I’m going to attempt to use as many euphemisms for the peen (and never repeating the same one twice) as possible during the writing of this post. Sort of as an exercise in creativity and because why not? Might as well have fun with it, which coincidentally, IS WHAT SHE SAID. Oh, and there’s gonna be a whole lot of potential TMI. You’ve been warned.
Penis envy is very real thing. You know how I know that it’s a real thing? Because I’m a man and I’ve literally had a woman examine my wang with envy. Like, while I was laying there, she treated it like a Frankenstein science experiment. Not doing anything remotely fun or exciting with it, just actual examination and asking questions. I’m talking real study. While I was watching television. Now, as a man, you kind of get used to this. I hope I’m not telling tales out of school, but I’m sure most men can relate. At some point after you’ve reached “be naked around each other for no reason at all” level of comfort, your woman will randomly hold your johnson in both amazement and curiosity.
[And security. I used to date this chick a long time ago who literally would hold my dong whenever we drove somewhere in the car. Without fail. Church? Grocery store? Blockbuster? She just felt more comfortable holding on in the car. It didn't seem weird until I just typed this out. Go Redskins! Wait, the football season is over? F*ck. Awwwwkward.]
You know, the fact that schlong envy is a real thing is slightly non-sensical. The pickle is really an inconvenient apendage in all other facets but sexual. For instance, I wrote this almost six years ago:
More nuttage: Getting my nuts caught in a door - Say I’m doing naked cartwheels in my house one day…and I’m having a dinner party. Why would I be doing naked cartwheels during a dinner party? I have no clue. Anyway, say I’m doing a carthweel thru my hallway and somebody goes in the bathroom and because I’m King Beef, they slam the door and my shit gets slammed in the door. Seriously, that’s some scary shit. That’s on par with clowns.
Why do I bring this up? Well, yesterday while perusing the social medias, I came across this post by Ms. Lucas of A Belle in Brooklyn fame entitled, “You Never Held It While He Pees?” – Her which made me laugh because, well, I’ve had that happen before. A woman I was dating asked me (and made a big enough deal that I relented) if she could hold my doodle while I peed. She actually used to want to do that frequently. I suppose its an odd request, but curiosity is a real thing so I understood. I mean I was always curious about the sun, moon, stars and sh*t like that. RICKYYYYYYY. It wasn’t until I read Demetria’s post that I realized women found it difficult to aim.
I suppose that all of our urinary moments are just constant practice at shooting straight. And lord knows you do get better over time. Any person with boys can tell you this. It’s a wonder bathrooms don’t just smell like urine if you’ve got little boys. The “if you sprinkle when you tinkle, be a sweetie and wipe the seatie” signs aren’t just decorative, ya know. It seems like some women just aren’t prepared for the power of the stream. And of course, boys being boys, well we do boy things like piss our names into snow, or into the urinals. I do it all the time. In fact, you are not only not f*cking with my clique, you are absolutly not f*cking with my urinary cursive game. You just aren’t. I’ve gotten to caligraphy, my nword. Caligraphy. But I suppose it can be hard to aim if you’ve never had to do it before. It’s like a water hose. Or shooting a gun. First time you do it, you aren’t ready for the recoil action.
Similarly, I’ve also had women ask to shave (my face) me before, which….Color Purple. You are not shaving me, Celie. You better go run through a field of purple and say makidada with your homegirl. Moving on.
The wanting to hold the dingaling thing does make some sense though. Most women I know have told me in various fashion what they’d do if they had a weenie for a day. This also lets me know how crude women are because nearly every single goal has included either beating off or coming remarkably close to rape. Basically, right after holding the twig and berries for a while, they’d go out and make sure to USE them. Can’t blame y’all actually.
On the flipside, I can honestly say that I’ve never had the desire to examine and fawn over the vajayjay, no matter how much I love it and its possibilities. I mean of course there’s the standard “it don’t smell” test, but that’s purely goal oriented. But rarely are most dudes going to just stand and fiddle for educational purposes. I’ve never wanted to sit down peeing or experience cramps. I’ve had shin splints though and like athlete cramps. And pneumonia. They all hurt. Fight me. Why would I want to add menstrual cramps to that. I don’t want an ovary. Or two. And Phillippine tubes seems like an Olympic event though I can’t decide if its winter or summer. I’m guessing winter.
And I don’t want boobs. Them joints can be maaaad heavy. Flat drinks we call A-cups.
But women seem to have that curiosity about the wanderings of pirate named, One-eyed Willie. Does the python do a dance? Can you make the snake slither? After reading the post above, I asked various women I know about holding a man’s pecker. Most were like, “ewwww, why?” but I got a few, “I mean, yeah, like I just needed to understand the mechanics of my mechanic”
So after all that, ladies, have you had an odd-ish type of requests for your man’s woody? Fellas, what about you? Are you as interested in the science of the beaver as they seem to be with the weasel? Who holds the peen in your relationship???
-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST aka MR. PUT IT DOWN AFTER YOU PICK IT UP, PLEASE AND THANK YOU aka GIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRL HE A 3