I was standing in front of my
designated urinal minding my own business when this skinny guy stood next to me
and started pissing. First, he violated the all important “urinal rule”:
There must be at least one empty urinal between two pissers. There were six
stalls, and yet he stood next to mine. I was wondering why he chose to piss next
to me. Did he want conversation?
Now, while I usually don’t do
this, I checked out his boy. This skinny guy had the goods. Damn, how is he the
genetic mutant while I am stuck with my…well, in comparison, teeny weeny? Of
course, I mean teeny in the sense that 12 inches is teeny. Suddenly, I recalled
that joke about a girl named Wendy and the line, “Welcome to Jamaica. Have a
nice day.” It didn’t matter that he was short, skinny, and balding. And his
dirty Jiffy Lube shirt indicated that he probably made less money and was less
intelligent than I am. Despite that, he was my superior.
So I became curious. I did a quick
random penis survey with all the hot gals in my office. Would you prefer a tall,
dark, and handsome guy with a short member, or would you prefer a fat, short,
and pimply guy with a long schlong? Of the ten women I asked (yes, it ain’t
exactly PriceWaterhouse research), only one chose the latter. She also proceeded
to glance at my crotch, but I digress. I asked my male co-workers a similar
question. Well, I asked if they would rather a) make over $100,000 per year, or
b) have a seven inch flute. Only one said the first. Of course, he said that if
you make a 100K, you can bed lot more women and apologize later. Actually, I
already have “b,” so I agree about the point he made. See, that’s how
insecure I am. I had to make two references to how big my little boy was in
these first three paragraphs. At this rate, I might make at least a dozen
references to my “friend.” One reference for every inch. Okay, the count is
now three.
Sure, women worry about sagging,
small breasts, a wide ass, cellulite, and weight gain. However, none of these
physical attributes causes such a wide anxiety as a guy’s member. Whoa, you
have no idea what you’re talking about, some women may argue. But let’s face
facts. You have to spread your worries over a dozen perceived flaws, whereas we
focus our energy on a member whose average height is a tad over 5 inches,
according to some national survey sponsored by guys with little members. Once, I
heard a girl casually mention that her boyfriend wasn’t that big. Not
surprisingly, they’re no longer together. This is either because he wasn’t
good enough, or he didn’t want his girl admitting that he had a teeny weeny.
Who knows? He may eventually become as rich as Bill Gates, but he will always be
the short man. If we knew that Brad Pitt’s measured way below average, us guys
could take comfort in knowing that we will always be one up. It doesn’t matter
that he goes home to Jennifer Aniston, or that can have his pick of fine-looking
women.
I don’t need to answer the
question of “Am I Big Enough?” Clearly, I am. But for those who don’t
measure up, here are some tips that I…er, someone has tried. First don’t
wear tight jeans, as they draw attention to the fact that you may be smoother
than a Ken doll. Second, make fun of your small penis. No guy would joke about
his smallness unless he was huge, right? Third, if some guy questions your size,
tell him to whip it out and compare. You could be bluffing with a King high
while he’s sitting on a Full House. However, the likelihood of that person
whipping it out is nil because no guy wants to lose the penis-off. Finally, if
you happen to get naked with someone who might be disappointed, tell that person
that cold weather can cause abnormal shrinkage. It doesn’t matter if you
happen to be in Venezuela during the middle of the summer. Make some medical
excuse why your boy isn’t its normal 9 inches. That’s what I do.
