Shawn?

My friends, Brad, Emily and Gabby Tornabene spent last weekend with us at our house
in Belmont and we spent a hour or so playing and replaying one of the funniest
speaches ever in American cinematography.  Take a minute to read, and absorb,
the genius that is:  Dr. Evil.


"Very well, where should I begin?  My father was a relentlessly self-improving
boulangerie owner fromBelgium with low-grade narcolepsy and a penchant for
buggery.  My mother was a fifteen-year-old French prostitute named Chloe
with webbed feet.  My father would womanize, he would drink, he would make
outrageous claims, like he invented the question mark.

Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy.  A
sort of general malaise that only the genius
possess and the insane lament.  My childhood was
typical. Summers in Rangoon, luge lessons.  In the
spring we'd make meat helmets.  If I was insolent, I
was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds.
Pretty standard, really.

At the age of twelve I received my first scribe.  At the age of fifteen, a
Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles.  There really is
nothing like a shawn scrotum.  At the age of eighteen, I went off to evil
medical school..."

What is a "shawn scrotum?"