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Ah, the Gonad Cup, kindly donated by Jaeb, and the object of my hearts desire. Given the evidence I've seen to date under my microscope,, and although I've heard tales of the change in the upward pitch of your voice, and your altered gait as you stride Darwin's broad avenues, I can only assume that your gonad shining machine is a tiny scrap torn from the corner of a kleenex tissue, and given other scurrilous rumours arriving courtesy of Air Vincent, on a daily basis, from a tissue box pilfered no doubt from Wulagi supermarket. I too LOL (and I only figured out what that meant about six months ago).