On drunken moyles

A miracle happened the other day. Not a big miracle. Not like Jesus coming back and saying, "Lighten up, it was all a fuckin' joke." But a miracle, nevertheless.

A friend of mine told me his brother wields a half-circumcised dick. Miraculous. Why? Cause that's the second time I've heard about a rough-cut Johnson within a month. The first person who turned me on to this phenomenon made me swear I would never write about it. And believe me -- I desperately wanted to write about it.

And so I shall.

This is truly amazing. I've heard the debate between the circumcised and the uncircumcised, but I didn't know about the half-hooded cock. Guess you have to take gym class at the right high school. I always figured circumcision was an all or nothing affair, like a foot amputation or a tooth extraction. You never hear about someone suing a hospital because they left part of the heel. You never hear a dentist say he got the tooth but couldn't quite get all of the fillings. You never hear about a woman with only one breast implant.

"I'm saving up for the left breast. After my trip to Europe."

I imagine there's more than a few creatively-styled pud-porkers out there and I don't blame you for not speaking up, especially to me. But I wouldn't worry about it. I can easily envision an all-new marketing plan for those of the misshapen scrotum pole.

TROJANS: SEMI-RIDGED FOR YOUR COMFORT

Yeah, I can see a fad coming all right. Look at hairstyles. Who thought the buzz cut would be all the rage? I can see the same thing happening in penis-wear. Instead of whacking off the foreskin, some will leave fifty percent (we'll call this coif the "Half Moon"). Others will leave a quarter or less (we'll call this style "The Flapper").

And what exactly do you do with the extra foreskin on your paltry protuberance? Pierce the fuck out of it, of course. Colored bangles, silver spikes, green clovers and pink fucking hearts. Take your lopsided Willie and jazz that fucker up. Women will seek you out just for the freak factor. Trust me on this. Even I get laid.

Unfortunately, I don't see this fad catching on for some time, so I'm thinking my friend's brother faces hell on a daily basis. Besides owning a misformed member, this guy looks like a 200-pound jack-o-lantern left in the sun too long. That's to say, he's soft and overweight. Even by Kansas standards.

This guy must get laid like never. First, he's got to convince a girl to ignore his mug. Then he's got to convince her to forget about his girth. Usually that's enough spin doctoring for one guy, but at some point before hitting the sheets he has to have... The Talk.

"Have cobras ever been an issue in your life? Did the movie 'The Elephant Man' frighten you?"

It reminds me of an old joke:

Doctor: Mrs. Wanker I know you had a rough child birth, but I've got some bad news.

Mrs. Wanker: Oh, no. What could be worse?

 

Doctor: Well, your son was born without arms and legs.

Mrs. Wanker: Oh, no. What could be worse?

 

Doctor: Well, your son was also born without a torso.
Mrs. Wanker: Oh, no. What could be worse?

 

Doctor: Well, he's just a head and he's 100 percent blind and 90 percent deaf.
Mrs. Wanker: Oh, no. What could be worse?

 

Doctor: Well... he's real fuckin' ugly.

As to the circumcised vs. non-circumcised argument, I can only see one benefit from being circumcised -- you won't be called Fido, Rover or any other version of doggie-dick during gym class.

If you can handle that, let the foreskin roll.

STANDARD DISCLAIMER: This column aims to be funny. If you can read anything else into it, you're on your own. Copyright 1999 by Mike Jasper.