Why did you click? It's not as if you'll ever go out with me. The chances of us doing the mambo are between zero and iota. And do you really think weíll even exchange photographs?
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I can imagine you showing the picture to your friends, "Hey look girls, the guy with a small penis."
Nope. That ainít going to happen.
So why the curiosity? I mean would you have clicked on this posting if it said, "Iíve got a HUGE dick?"
Címon, would you? Be honest.
Well maybe you would. Maybe your vibrator is broken. Or maybe thatís exactly what you want. A big dick. Nothing more, nothing less.
In either case, how would you know for sure that the poster is being truthful?
Now I can imagine a big photo of a penis popping up on your monitor at work. "Look, folks, thereís a big penis on Sallyís monitor."
Anyway, back to what this post is really about: the size of my penis.
In fact, itís so small that key holes are sometimes tempting. Itís so small that I often use a pair of tweezers to masturbate. (Something to think about the next time youíre plucking your hair.)
Iíve tried everything. You know, all those e-mails you get on Hotmail. "Enlarge your penis in 15 days. Results guaranteed!!!" Yeah, those guys. One look at my plumbing, and they gave me my money back. Losers.
So I went to this doctor who specializes in prosthetics.
It fell off. Lack of support. Seesh! Doctors these days.
So I was wondering if I just prayed, it would help me increase the size of my you know what.
Hereís a list of gods, prophets and deities I worshipped:
Nothing happened. Zilch. Little Johnson is still little.
I donít know what to do. I donít have the confidence to ask any girl out. I cannot say, "Hey will you go out with me? Iíll write sonnets for you. Iíll discuss Greek literature and Roman architecture with you. Together weíll travel everywhere from Antigua to Antarctica. Iíll cook you dinners youíve never tasted or ever could taste in any restaurant. Iíll make little movies starring you, just you. Iíll walk right beside you wherever we go and Iíll walk on the side the traffic is moving. Together weíll make music."
You know, little things like that. Not for me.
Instead, itís Friday night and Iím writing the "Confessions of a Man with a Small Penis," on Craigslist.
Isn't that sad? But whatís sadder is that youíre reading this stuff.
You just spent your precious time reading fictitious stuff about a fictitious guy with a fictitious organ on a Friday night in San Francisco, the most beautiful city in the world, but you wonít go out with a normal guy like me. Thatís whatís really sad.
My MC: You. Who else?
Your MC: Time gone by.