I wanted to let it go. I wanted to just let it wash over my eyes like a retinal shower. Then, I wanted to settle for letting it pass like a particularly troublesome stool. I wanted to act like an adult, to celebrate medical miracles while pretending I’m not juvenile to my very core. But, well…
A man in Boston who lost his dingle-dangle (doctor’s words, not mine) due to cancer, received a new hang-low this week after being three years groin-ferret-free. Side bar: What the hell, there’s dong cancer now!?! With David Bowie and Alan Rickman and artist Darwyn Cooke all dying from cancer just this year and now the threat of wang cancer, what more motivation do you need, cancer doctors? Get to curing.
Not sure why he wanted to be plagued with the burden of a new, stranger’s used hot dog. What, now he gets to pee standing up? Use his preferred bathroom in South Carolina? I bet if he really looked back critically and thought about how much trouble his old bell-end got him into, it would outweigh the number of good times he had with it. (Look at this dude, no offense to him, but it doesn’t look like he was out there laying pipe like the Public Works, he was more like the guy in a sitcom doing light plumbing and having the pipes explode in his own face. No judgement, though.)
What if this is an Idle Hands situation (no way any of you get that movie reference) or, for the bibliophiles out there, a Maurice Renard’s Les Mains d’Orlac situation where he received a killer’s penis and cellular memory compels him to murder with his love truncheon!?! What if this guy becomes a flasher? Or, what if the previous owner was into some weird stuff. Like, he’s sitting at home watching the rodeo and finds himself getting turgid after seeing the rodeo clowns get gored by a bull? “Well, I guess I’m into this now.”
What if they gave him a smaller swizzle stick? I mean, it can’t be smaller than the nothing he had for the last three years and beggars can’t be choosers but how disappointing would it be if he was an arch cocksman and now he has been reduced to a baby baby-maker? And are’t all skin tones different? “No, baby, it’s real and mine, it’s just that my family is Eastern European but my purple-headed yogurt slinger is Mediterranean . . . and smaller than my original.”
Most puzzling is, why did this guy agree to have his surgery covered by newspapers and splash his happily tallywhackered face all over the world? “That’s right, I am the proud owner of a new, used beef whistle. Who’s into some freaky stuff and wants to see if this dead guy’s Franken-Wang works?”
I get that he identifies as male and probably wants the equipment to match, but he had lived a full life with a kickstand, where’s his sense of adventure? Instead of sitting on his post-cancerous nubbin, why not turn it inside-out and take a swing at life with a love glove? With the death of space exploration, so too dies curiosity, I suppose. (I did it! I connected space exploration with bearded tacos and custard launchers!)
Strangely Naked 
I definitely watched the 90s Idle Hands with Devin Sawa multiple times, good sir. DEVIN SAWA!
Anyhoo, yay for new penises! (And old penises! All penises!)
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Whoa. You pulled Devin Sawa, that’s a pull I could not have conjured even with the help of Winifred Sanderson. (Good luck getting that reference–NO GOOGLING!)
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Uh, yeah, Gia isn’t alone on understanding that reference.
Devin Sawa. Elden Henson. Seth Green. Could those 3 names be any more 90s? You bring the spiked hair, I’ll bring the JNCO pants.
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I’m with you, Pickleope. No man should boast about a new used and likely uncircumcised penis unless his lover is dancing in the streets. And what are the odds?
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The myriad slang for wangs had me ROLLING. Thank you for this. Thank you.
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I hear John Bobbitt is next on the list.
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I would just be concerned about masturbation. I mean, at what point are you masturbating, and at what point are you just jacking off a complete stranger for life?
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Every hand-to-gland-combat is a noble endeavor. Every masturbatory interlude is a hand job. Might as well lube up your thumb and practice a self-imposed rusty trombone.
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ahahaaahahaahahahaaaa! OMG! All that over a used tally-wacker. Some of the comments were equally funny as well. Well done my friend. You hit this one on the head, so to speak.
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Mick: Wait a minute. If you chop off your right hand, how are you going to chop the other one off?
Anton: Oh no, man, the lefty’s a keeper. I mean, I guess it wasn’t idle enough.
Mick: Really?
Anton: Oh yeah, I mean, I hit the remote with it, light up with it, relieve a little tension. No, this is the answer.
A couple of good terms for masturbation: hand to gland combat, dating five-fingered Sally
I don’t wanna fuck that baldy used wing-wang guy.
Love,
Janie
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I love “hand to gland combat”, particularly when you follow it up with your signature line, “Love, Janie.”
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Nowhere in this post did it say that the new penis had any feeling. If they somehow managed to give the new penis just as much feeling as the old one, then I’m be doubly impressed.
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RIGHT!?! The dude allowed himself to be pasted across all media with a thumbs up BEFORE he checked if the surgery was a success. That’s faith. You hear that, people who believe that Kirk Cameron!?! Dude got a penis transplant and believed it would be successful so hard (pun intended) that he allowed himself to be outed as dickless before he took his new goods for a test drive. Your faith, whatever it is, has not been tested to such a degree.
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I have a vague recollection in the back of my brain about Idle Hands. I think you wrote this post just to come up with as many terms for cock that you could think of. Very well done, too!
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The ubiquity of knowledge about Idle Hands is truly shocking to me, particularly for a 17 year old movie that barely made 4 million in the US domestic box office and has 16% on Rotten Tomatoes (less than the movie The Room).
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I got the Idle Hands reference right off the bat too. Mostly because my brain’s storage is about 45% old movies (FYI: 25% is allocated towards comic book superhero bios, 20% for traumatic childhood events, 5% for old arcade-game button-joystick combinations & 12% is reserved for booklearning smarts).
I have to wonder though… What do you think’s worse: getting outfitted with… um… more compact equipment than you once had or getting one so much bigger that you pass out every time you get an erection because your body isn’t accustomed to diverting so much blood?
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Speaking as someone who was in the presence of someone who witnessed a person have 8 bags of blood transferred into her body and that person stayed conscious through the majority of it, a penis that would make you pass out from getting an erection would have to be at minimum a quarter the size of your entire body. The dude with the biggest dong in history was still able to get a comfortable raised flag without getting remotely sleepy until he finished (guess who went down a Google rabbit hole). In conclusion, I think getting a micro-phallus would be a bit more of a disappointment.
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HAHA the title is everything.
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