Lately, I have been overwhelmed by penis. Many women will tell you that men only think about their dicks, but that is not really true. We tend the pass most of the day without paying much attention to the trouser mouse unless we have to go to the restroom or if something “motivating” happens to pass by. However, the sad case is, the fellow is often neglected unless we need it for a wank or some other thing. You would think that it would be something that is thought of more often seeing that it is an appendage; we know it is there, we just do not pay it much thought. Unless we happen to be baseball players and have to give ourselves random gropes to keep the closet homosexuals watching the game titillated. Okay, now that is not fair. I know that all baseball fans are not homosexuals, and homosexuals around the world are probably better off for that fact.
But this is not about homosexuals or baseball it is about penises. The ones that have been overwhelming me lately. Ironically, I do have to admit that a homosexual/homosexual hater will be mentioned later on, and he happens to be one of the dicks that have been overwhelming me lately. If you have an image of me being covered by male genitalia or assaulted by a gang of cocks wearing leather coats, swinging chains, and singing about the glories of being a Jet, LOSE THAT IMAGE! I have not been invaded by schmeckels. Rather, I have been subjected to numerous media occasions that feature swinging meat of various types and flavors. Personally, I blame it on iPhone literature and the Kindle for the iPhone app.
Recently, I purchased a collection of horror stories that were all centered on cannibalism. Really. I want to say that the book is called “The Book of Cannibals,” but I am not sure. I could go and look on my iPhone to be certain, but that would interrupt my flow and my ADHD would lead me to other venues…like Lego Star Wars III: The Clone Wars…and this would never get finished. But I digress. One of the stories in this collection is titled “Of Priapism and Big Breasts” or something like that. The quick summary: a hot chick with big boobs lures men via the internet. She lures men with big dicks. She meets the fellows, drugs them, ties them to a bed, and cuts off their tumescent cocks. She then cooks said cocks and eats them in front of the poor guy as he bleeds out.
Eventually, she meets a guy with a tremendous member, who by virtue of being crazy, resists her drugs, ties her to a chair and cuts of and eats her bountiful boobage. Yes, that is quite a story, and the associated graphic is a bit “extreme,” but I do have a vivid imagination and I wanted to make sure that your senses were as overloaded as mine. In any case, after reading the story, I started noticing that I was surrounded by a sea of floppy hu-Man sausage.
I do not include Ally-boy in the penis encounters because I have encountered his cock, but rather because he sets my gadar off as if I were hanging out at a RuPaul show, apparently hates gays, and is an intolerant prick. He is one of the dicks that has overwhelmed me lately. Remember, this is the same guy who created an app for the iPhone that would instruct others on how to cure gay-ness. Apple pulled his app soon after receiving many complaints. Perhaps they did not see that his blog clearly identifies him as a “leading speaker on gender issues.” If they had know that, perhaps he would have been appreciated as more than a homophobic penis.
Having cured himself of his problematic gayness, Mr. Chambers seeks to spread the word to others that faith in Christ can help save you from your rump-rangery urges. Faith can help you stop acting gay and just keep up the gay look for shits and giggles or whatever reason you may be trying to pretend that you are a “reformed homosexual.” He believes that sexuality is a choice. If you believe this as well, then I ask you, if you are a heterosexual, when did you make that decisison?
For my next penile encounter, I have to travel back to last night. I watched a program on the learning channel called “Taboo” (sorry, no clever pictures here). This show featured “adult babies,” women who carry around real-looking fake babies, cosplay, and a thirty-six (I think that was the age) year-old virgin. I am not going to address the adult baby people. The man looked like a giant baby, his “mommy” had tits that hung to her knees (kind of like Ogra, from “The Dark Crystal”), and he disturbed me a bit. The other two items on the show…not too much to go on. The one item, I left out, was a transgender person, who is going to get a surgery to change him into a male physically. You see, he was a girl, and now wants to finish the look, so to speak.
Now, I am all for doing what makes you whole, and technically, I do not feel to comfortable including this story in the penis discussion. However, penis was in my face during this segment of the show as a surgeon discribed the procedure involved to create a penis out of female genitalia. A main part of this surgery is the installation of tubes that air can be pumped into for the creation of an erection. A cyborg balloon dick! Resistance is futile and safe to fourteen PSI! His lucky girlfriend is going to select the size his junk is going to be. Word on the street is that she is a size queen…
And that about does it for my pertinent experience with dick this week. I am sure there are others. There are dicks driving about all over the place, and generally showing up in everyone’s lives at some point to pee in the lemonade or spread their verbal smegma about the atmosphere to annoy and pester the general public. However, it should be noted that being a dick can be catching: if you spend too much time around penis you start to behave like one yourself. It has happened to me. What is coming next could be seen as penis-y behavior, but I am who I am, and sometimes, I am a dick. But you can still love me, I am harmless to most.
Yesterday I was Binging friends (Bing is my default search because I am too lazy to switch to Google; so I Bing things, I guess) and associates and I entered my dawg, Manthony’s, name for a search. First, I noticed that terror of language, Urban Dictionary, had a definition of Manthony. I was not amused. I was amused by this MAnthony, however. Oh, Mr. Secretary, if you only knew that skinny, Asian men are stealing your namesake and using it to promote their scrawny frames that they hope to turn into pillars of muscle in the future. After taking a closer look at the spelling of this cat’s name, I observed that he was not really a “Manthony.” He is a “MAnthony.” The extra capital letter really makes a difference on Facebook. Ha.
After reaching this Manthony, however, I immediately stopped looking for Manthonys and could not stop laughing. Really. I had to stop writing this, bribe my secretary to start writing this so that I could enjoy a hearty laugh. I think I need to get a drink to calm my hysterical nerves! This Manthony is like the opposite of the Manthony that I have grown to love and mock.