This is high on the possibly quite lengthy list of jobs you would not want to perform. Far above Denny's waitress, up in the realms of body bagger and teaser stallion, is the job of cat ball plucker.

It's truly astonishing what you can find just by clicking on a blog title with an old-fashioned word in it.

Such as:

How many of you can put on your resume that you were a cat-balls plucker? I can.

The interesting thing about the hair on a cat’s balls is that the hair comes out in nice clumps, like tiny toupees for wee gnomes. And there’s nothing quite as satisfying as seeing a cat’s freshly plucked sack. And I don’t mean that in a sick way, though I’m sure I just hit a chord with some of you fetishists. I mean it just looks, uh, fresh. It looks like a bald baby’s head emerging from the womb of a freakishly hirsute mother. Like a fleshy orb rising from a lake of fur. Like a bald nut sack on a cat.

Yeah, I'm glad he took the high road with that post. And aren't you glad I did:

No photoillustrations!