When Boy Parts Attack!
Today for Whack-A-Doodle Wednesday I was all set to do a blog on killer coffee but then I started thinking about Man’s Best Friend. No, not his dog, his Johnson, his John Thomas, his Will To Live. Yes, the nick names are endless on the World Wide Web. Pecker, prick, member, junk, sausage, pole, shaft, rod, wang, schlong, and the oddly named bacon plank though I kind of like that one. Yes, I am speaking of course about the penis. Let’s just say cock because penis sounds so clinical and wee. Cock sounds large, loud, trumpeting and obnoxious, just like it’s rooster namesake.
Why the male member talk this early in the morning? Why not? Isn’t it the first thing to get up? I have no idea since I don’t have one myself and frankly I find it a bit freaky. Picture this, there you are asleep in the early morning hours and all of a sudden, of its own volition, one of your body parts sits up and starts roaming around. At least it would if it wasn’t attached to your body. That is strange and kind of weird. Now maybe if science could create detachable members, your Roger could do something useful like get up and make coffee instead of creating havoc and mayhem. It’s amazing how the little meat puppet can get into so much trouble.
Men seem to put all the blame on their Willie for bad choices in life. They blame their best friend for everything from getting into fights, making bad decisions at work to coming home with Quasimodo after a long night at the pub.I’m starting to think either those men aren’t very bright or something sinister is going on that the government should look into. Are penises really jumping ship and running off in the middle of the night to create wanton acts of destruction? Was a skin flute really to blame for the oil spill in the Gulf? Can they be trained to pick up dirty socks and underwear before walking the dog? I really want to know.
You think I am blowing this out of proportion? Hardly. Just try to search for a male chicken on the internet and see what comes up, so to speak. It has nothing to do with poultry. Famous wiener expert Mark Wahlberg would slap people in the face with his 13 inch schlong. Don’t worry, it’s not a real one. Hell, that only happens in the movies. I hope. Anyway, Wahlberg starred in Boogie Nights, an excellent movie about the porn industry in the 1970’s. At the end of the film, you got to see his monster whang but it wasn’t real. Marky Mark may be a lot of things but having an oversized ruler in his pants is not one of them. It’s latex and he kept it in his drawer after the movie, slapping people with it for fun. Wow. I’m not sure how I feel about that. As a woman, I feel it’s very Animal House/frat boy/grade school on one hand and really creepy on another. I would be willing to bet if I pulled out a huge latex vulva and whacked some guy in the face with it, he’d cry. Hmmmmm…..
Then of course there is the whole running issue. What am I talking about? I’m talking about the hanging cock and balls combo. That kind of sounds like a pub! Come into the Cock & Balls for a pint! Nevermind, anyway… here is my question. With the rod and tackle swinging free, how do men run? Don’t they catch their wee willie winkle with their thigh? It seems awfully ackward to me but I don’t have to deal with dangly bits so I’m just a mite confused.
I was fully intending on writing about this strange guy I saw in Starbucks but this is what happened. I couldn’t help myself. Perhaps it is part of an evil plan? Long range mind control from space? Who am I kidding? I just thought it would be fun. Besides I found this EXCELLENT commercial that all men should watch if you’re interested in hygiene and Jaime Pressly.
or the antics of the World Famous Poxy Boggards.