Tofu Plankton Meatloaf

Friday, July 01, 2005

Power to the Penis!

I am obsessed with my cock - I admit it openly and without shame.

Call it whatever you want: blue-veined microphone, boney maroni, the chromosome snake, crank, cum gun, ding-a-ling, Cockzilla, Captain Winkie, ding-dong, dipstick, El Firmo, fuck stick, fur-seeking meat missile, giggle stick, heat seeking moisture missile, jizz cannon, joystick, John Thomas, knob, love club, love missile, love muscle, love pump, lunch box, magic wand, main vein, manhood, man-sized manicotti, mean meat, meat whistle, Mr. Happy, one-eyed trouser snake, passion pole, pecker, peter, pee-pee, pink torpedo, pleasure scepter, pork sword, pud, purple helmeted love warrior, pulsating python of love, purple-headed mushroom-capped yogurt slinger, veined clarinet, skin flute, skeezer pleaser, schlong, schwanz, stiffy, spam javelin, thrill hammer, trouser weasel, wanger, wang-dang-noodle….or my personal favorite - the king. Whatever, I love my cock!

However, I suspect that this phallus obsession of mine holds true for just about every other red-blooded dude on the planet.

Now, considering that just about every man likes to think that he has a magnificent cock that would be worthy of be mounted on any sportsman’s wall, I think it’s literally impossible for any man to actually make any decision without using his penis. It governs over our entire lives *!

I know personally, I consult my penis before making any decision in my life, no matter how simple or insignificant. In fact, I would wager that the total number of times that I consult my penis over the course of a normal day would be impossible to be calculated by any of the world’s leading mathematicians – or super computers for that matter. There are just no words for numbers that infinitely large!

Everything from deciding what to spread on my toast for breakfast in the morning, to what to watch on television, to what type of shoelaces I should buy at the Dollar-Rama store are first pondered and filtered through my penis. I even doubt that we men would even be able to exist if we couldn’t utilize our penises to assist with our complex decision-making processes.

We would just be standing on street corners and at bus stops drooling over ourselves like mindless zombies.So next time a woman remarks that your “thinking with the wrong head", just instead inform her: “Yeah, so - you think my other head would ever allow me to bang you?”

* Not to mention: larger salaries in the workplace, greater chances for promotion, an natural inclination for BBQ, as well as extortionate car insurance rates.


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