3 April 2008

A Man, a Sausage, a Dick Joke...


I'm a man (baby) and as such I'm obsessed with my dick. Sorry, but I don't have a choice. It's the law and if I break it…well…maybe nothing will happen, but I'm not prepared to take the chance. You don't mess with your dick, the saying goes, or it will turn on you. There's an old joke about men giving their penises names because they don't like trusting 90% of their decisions to a stranger. This is an important organ, folks, I can't overemphasise that. Men are obsessed with it because it's both our friend and our enemy. We can play with it, wave it about, write things with it, do hilarious impressions. But then, like all friends seem to do at some point, it betrays us and makes us do something silly or look foolish (sometimes both). The penis is often held (so to speak) to be the embodiment of all that is male, and, to me, the metaphor holds up: unpredictable, unreliable, messy, unglamorous, self-absorbed, insecure - these are all male traits and they are all focussed in our dicks like some pink fleshy portrait of Dorian Gray.

There's a lot of talk about men feeling confused and insecure nowadays. And all this New Age baloney about men needing to hug each other is completely off track. Men don't need to hold each other. That just makes us uncomfortable because what if we get a stiffy and he feels it? The solution to improving men's self esteem is for blokes to simply remind each other on a daily (possibly hourly) basis that they have big dicks. I've tried it and it works. "You, my friend," I say, gripping your shoulder in a manly but compassionate way, "you have a large penis. Correction…an enormous penis. Hell, you're more horse than man!" A few days of this and even the meekest of men will be so empowered he'll want to invade Poland. Try it…I dare you.

Who cares whether it's true or not? Since when did the truth ever play a part in making people feel better? If it did, advertising wouldn't work. In actual fact, truth is anathema to self esteem. If you don't believe me, next time a woman asks, "Do I look fat in this?" say, "Frankly? Yes, you do. Your arse looks like two planets colliding in a pair of pants." Then see what having your dick cut off and shoved up your bum does for your self esteem.


I've often heard men say that "We are not our penises", and perhaps we're not, but that suggests that we're something more when, in reality, we're probably something less. Are we, in fact, "merely our penises", or are we just a bunch of dicks?

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