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 Mustafa and Ali were a couple of Bedouins who used to race their
 camels. The problem was that's Ali's camel always won the race.
 
 One night as they were sitting by the campfire drinking coffee,
 Mustafa said to Ali, "Ali, my friend, we've known each other since
 we were this high. Why, our parents before us were friends too.
 Even our grandparents were friends!"
 
 "That's true, Mustafa, my friend" replied Ali, throwing another
 branch on the campfire. After a long silence, Mustafa says, "So
 tell me, Ali, my good friend; How is it that whenever we race our
 camels, yours always wins?"
 
 "Simple" answers Ali, "My camels have no balls, so they can run
 faster!"
 
 "Really?" Mustafa is surprised. "How come they have no balls?"
 
 "Because I remove them!"
 
 "No camelshit! How do you do that?" asks Mustafa
 
 "Well, Ali my good friend, this is how it's done: I take the camel 
 and sit him down. Then I drive a stake into the ground near each
 of his legs, and tie him down. Then I call my eldest son Hamid -
 you know him? - and I have him hold up the camel's tail." He lifts
 up one arm to demonstrate.
 
 "Yes, yes? And then what?" Mustafa is eager to know.
 
 "Well then, my good friend Mustafa, I take two rocks, and hold
 them, like so, on each side of the camel's balls, and smash them
 together!"
 
 "Ya Allah!" cries Mustafa. "But doesn't that hurt?"
 
 "No," says Ali. "Not if you hold your thumbs on the outside."

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