Because I write for a website—this one—the process isn’t as simple as sitting down at a coffee shop with a fashionable scarf on and asking scone crumbs as they rain down my neck and chest, “What shall I write about today?”
I have your needs to consider. The writer’s supposed to give you words worth reading. You can think of me as your call girl. I’m not your only trick, I know that, but I want to make our time together worth your while.
When I had the genius idea to write about penis size, one of the hottest topics, like, ever, I was beyond carried away with the call-girl metaphor. I was walking cold in torn pantyhose—metaphorically speaking—carrying a bottle of antifreeze you paid me extra to pick up across the street because your stupid sedan stalled out. When the idea hit, I dropped the antifreeze and ran to the nearest coffee shop. I didn’t have a scarf, so I fashioned my hose around my neck and got to work.
Big Penis Fever
As a teenager and well into my twenties, I scoured the Internet for a solution to the biggest question in all of Western philosophy: is my penis enough to satisfy a woman? I learned to evaluate research sources long before English 101. Learning to distinguishing pill-and-pump propaganda from legitimate statistical data taught me how to analyze data and to regard insightfully this strange looking dangling appendage that 1) gets rid of excess water when I overhydrate, and 2) transmutes sticky obnoxious bodily fluids into babies.
I learned the average is between five and six inches, but I also learned men can’t be trusted to hold measuring tape against their John Thomases and report honestly, not even for science. Somewhere, in the distant corner of space where the dead go to play exciting dead person games, George Washington is standing beside the apocryphal cherry tree he chopped down because America”s first president didn”t give a shit about the environment. “I can never tell a lie,” Washington tells his father, beneath his junior powdered wig. “And also, according to this primitive ruler I fashioned, my penis is precisely eight inches in length, and the circumference of a musket.” We”re a lost cause.
Science and statistical analysis, I gradually realized, couldn”t settle the butterflies in my testicles. Length and diameter are relative in regards to the woman or man staring them in their sleeping pirate”s eye. If men built mathematics and measurements, and all suffer from site-specific body dysmorphia, I was barking up the wrong cherry tree.
What I needed was a female perspective.
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According to my own measurements, I was about average. Not even what some sites call “high average.” I tried to console myself remembering a story my promiscuous friend had told me about a former lover with a bona fide micropenis. It was the size of a light switch. When he pulled it out, he said things like, “You know you want that big thing inside you.” She played along with his fantasy, as obnoxious as it was. I asked her if it was any good, and she said no. I asked her if she ever saw him again, and she said yes. A few times.
Based on my friend”s anecdotal evidence, and having seen the The Matrix, I recognized that my perceptions of my penis were not to be trusted. I could be better off than I thought, but I could also be mistaking a molehill for a very modest mountain.
Unsurprisingly, unless they’re out for maximum damage in an argument (“You”re so small”), or casino online want to hurry along a forever blowjob (“You”re so big!”), women don”t seem to talk about penis size with their partners. It isn”t worth the headache. Casually mention ex #3 was hung like a ‘70s ‘stache stag, and that shit”s going to fester and rot his self-confidence off.
I didn’t collect much in the way of empirical data. But I did manage to collect the following:
- I posed the question to my first lover directly, as all men do. Though she used troubling euphemisms like “decent” and “slender,” we had excellent bedroom chemistry.
- After a disappointing one-night stand with a friend, I asked her what the problem was. “Well, I wasn”t going to say anything, but my boyfriend was really big,” she said. “You can’t hit my spot.” I winced, but thanked her for her honestly. Then she said, “They make these great silicon sleeves. You should look into them.” That one stung for a while.
- I hit it off with a stripper visiting a mutual friend. We got hot and heavy a couple times, but it always stalled out just before. Again I made the mistake of asking if she had any idea what the problem was. “All my boyfriends have been really, really big. I”m afraid I wouldn’t feel anything with you.” I gave her the cold online casino shoulder until she left, and I never saw her again.
Besides these incidents, my partners never seemed to care one way or another. Which brings me to my current hypothesis…
Big Penis Wisdom
I’m thirty. My investigation concluded some years ago. Applying a multidisciplinary approach of quantum physics, existentialist French literature and Eastern philosophy, I concluded that I have a penis, and that my penis”s stature is a mental conceptualization specific to the consciousness behind the mouth, hand, vagina, or ersatz vagina interacting with it. So it”s relative, like everything else. Years of study, and the answer is, it”s just another ones of those things, just like everything. Physics is going to culminate in the same conclusion, just you wait and see. My penis research was ahead of its time.
But this misses the most fundamental point to be made about penises. I listened to Loveline for years, read magazine articles and message board discussions, and took notes on my ten years of sexual activity. It is my current and firm conviction that, whether they”re light switches or anacondas, penises look like monsters in the dark.
We shouldn”t be worried these freakish things aren”t big enough; we should be concerned they don”t escape and sit on the sleeping chests of the elderly as they sleep. The phallus is the visual basis of every gun ever produced. Architecture is founded on the unconscious example of something that looks like the Ultimate Warrior”s arms.
Two faces, side by side. Hunky Michael Fassbender and 1980s horror icon Freddy Krueger. Which of these bears the closest resemblance to a penis up close? Just be glad there are people out there who admire these things, big or small.
Big Penis Conclusion
My advice to men everywhere, especially those who found this article looking for advice: look away from the monster’s eye! That space creature is trying to hypnotizing you. Beef up your tongue and your imagination—with which to write sonnets, to speak such saccharine lines as, “My god! You’re like the sun and the moon crashed and leaked honey all into my stupid stupid eyeball holes!” A strong tongue to do something deliciously else too, but I’m not going there explicitly because all the size articles end on that note, and we should all appreciate by now the tongue”s incredible sexual prowess compared to that of the lazy mutant pirate at the heart of architecture, art, foreign policy, and civilization in general.
(“Eight and a half, Papa!” George pointed to the felled tree. “I was mistaken before. It’s eight and a half. I cannot tell a lie.”)