![]() ![]() I squinted, unable to tell whether I was looking at a topographical map or an extreme close-up of a nutsack. Beneath it was a photo of a 2-ounce black bottle, boldly labeled Sack Spray against a background of subtle undulating lines. ![]() “Your pits aren’t the only place that need deodorant,” a line of ad copy said. A Chicago-based company called Ballsy had developed a pH-balanced scrotal deodorizer made with lavender, aloe vera, green tea, and chamomile. “Just been emailed asking if we’d like to review this-am trying not to be offended,” a fellow WIRED editor wrote in a group channel. The truth is that my search for rebirth began a few months later, with a Slack message about ball deodorant. ![]() I could say it started when I turned 33-my Jesus year, the year I vowed to transcend anxiety and exhaustion and do my most important work, the year I would emerge from my cave of pandemic isolation and early parenthood and couples therapy as the second coming of myself. ![]()
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