Willy or won’t he?

Sex is like snow, you never know how many inches you
are going to get or how long it will last.

—Unknown

Gee whiz, am I supposed to talk about penises? Will I give away any secrets here? Where will I start?

Is it true that God gave men penises in an attempt to give us men a way of shutting women up?

How about a joke?

Why? Because we, that is the royal ‘we’, as in you as well, all joke about our penises. No not your penises, our penises. No one ever jokes about vaginas. Actually I don’t know that for sure. Maybe lesbians joke about vaginas but blokes don’t, we have respect for your love tunnel. You women and we men are always joking about our penises — and we like that. You see joking about our penises means that we have one. I know it sounds stupid, but it’s a bit like blokes walking around naked when there are female guests in the house. We all know we have a penis but it’s a bit like we have to prove it. Pathetic aren’t we. When you joke about our royal jolly rogerer you are basically saying we have a penis, even though everyone knows we have a penis because we are men. We like our penises being talked about, and we like our penises being talked about a lot — but only in a nice way.

So the joke, (or maybe my mum turned it into a joke):

My mum hears me screaming from the bathroom where I’m having my bath. I’m just a kid. She runs in and starts screaming at me, “Peter stop that, stop that right now, I mean it stop now. Stop it right now you naughty little boy”.

I reply, “Mum it’s my willy and I’ll wash it as fast as I like”.

Did you know this? Men love their willies; men want their willies to be bigger, (one mate said he wanted it smaller … and I agree); men believe their willies look great and men secretly try and look at their mates’ willies to see if they are telling the truth. Bet you didn’t know that?

If you mention your man’s willy to your girlfriends make sure your man’s willy really is a big willy, otherwise never mention it.

Interestingly, I have been made aware of women who have found out the lengths some girls will go to bonk a girlfriend’s new man if he has a big willy. When you talk it’s dangerous. You may be very surprised at the dirty low-down tricks that go down so she can bonk your boyfriend behind your back; this happens and happens more than you know, and yet no one talks.

At the end of the day it’s probably best never to talk about your current or ex-boyfriend and their willies unless it’s a harmless joke. The reason for this is if you mention your former man’s willy in a bad light, you will be sent to the evil anti-men chambers for the rest of your natural life … but not by us, we couldn’t give a shit, we already know you enjoyed riding the one-eyed monster when you were with us and there is nothing wrong with our willies. So who is going to send you to that female prison of ‘anti-men’? Well of course silly … your girlfriends.

This is how it goes. If, as a result, you are single since falling out of your last relationship, there is every chance it will be your girlfriends who will be the next avenue to assist you to get your introduction back to the world of twosomeness and sex. There is also a possibility it could be one of your male friends who will supply your next meat dish. The problem? You decided to verbally castrate your last boyfriend. So what do you think will happen when your girlfriend, your male friend or your girlfriend’s boyfriend have a male friend who is single? They will be talking to their friends, telling them to watch out for ‘that’ one, she talks out of school and this friend will never get the opportunity of being introduced. Your friends don’t want their male friends talked about like this if they were to get it on together and then break up. So be careful when discussing past boyfriends as you may just be digging your own lonely grave with your friends. To top it off, when a bloke starts dating a girl and she starts talking about her ex to us in a bad way, she doesn’t have a hope in hell and will be dumped faster than a bricklayer in Beirut lays bricks. On the other hand if she talks about him in the nicest of ways, then the opposite may occur.

So let’s talk about men and their willies, because men love talking about their willies … a lot … I know I do.

As you already know we love them but it’s important you know that men are not porn stars, even though we try sometimes. By the way we like our willies relished instead of cherished on the odd occasion. Our willies are gods to their owners and they are adored by us and, as such, should be adored by you and stroked accordingly. Our willies are also very similar to mouth organs and can sometimes be blown hard.

Did you know there are two types of willies, man’s willy and woman’s willy, and they belong together as often as possible … we either use it or we lose it. Willies are good at only two things as previously mentioned and both involve a relieving a bodily function. Also the smaller the willy the harder it gets, (my mate reckons he actually blacked out a couple of times when he had a hard on. Only problem is I think he was telling the truth). Big willies can also be similar to draught snakes and take a bit of work to get hard enough so even the cat wouldn’t scratch it.

Willies are our pride and joy. Willies do things that no other body part can do. If we want to lift our arms, jump on one foot, cough, blink, scratch, talk, breathe or piss, we can do it. We can’t just say ‘ejaculate’ and it happens.

So what do our willies like? Well, our willies are the things that make you happy. If our willy makes you happy, then we are happy. The fact we are allowed to put our willy inside your willy is important for us, as we then get the best of many worlds … having our willy inside you and getting pleasure from it, having you get pleasure, which is really important and, being able to have our willies inside you, looking you in the eyes and being amazed at the beauty you behold.

It’s a shame we men don’t really have beauty. You have something we can never have and we want that. You can have everything — from kids to beauty — and to top it off you can also have our willies. Lucky you! I suppose the only thing you can’t have is our balls. Actually I’m not too sure about that, some of you I’m guessing have bigger balls than a lot of blokes I know. Balls, testes, the fruit below the veg really are useless to you apart from producing the junket that turns you into a mum. When you really think about it, you can have everything — our mind, our souls, our happiness, our penises and most importantly of all you can have our hearts. You get everything; we get to be female life support systems to be turned on or off anytime you want. Yes we’ve heard all the lame jokes about women being oxygen thieves and life support systems for our willies, but it’s quite the opposite.

Empowering or what, eh!

There you have it. You are the higher order, the numero uno, the brightest star in the universe, the one true being. I guess the only thing you haven’t been portrayed as is Jesus Christ himself, but who knows. If you grabbed ten people and placed them in a circle, whispered into the ear something to one person and asked them to tell the person left of them and so on, by the time it got back to you it’s generally nothing like what you originally said. Maybe Jesus Christ was a woman and Mary Magdalene was her sex slave whose name was really Mickey Magdalene. With two thousand years of handing down a story from generation to generation there would have to be discrepancies associated with what the original story was. It stands to reason in some ways. If the brilliant Michelangelo could have worked out that Magdalene was at the Last Supper, then maybe 11 blokes were just idolising her and she was getting Jesus to do all the hard work. I can just hear her now…“Hey lame arse, break some fucking bread for dinner will you!”For all we know Mary could have been a bloody pole dancer. Whatever, between Jesus and Magdalene one of them was a woman and I reckon the female was the one in charge.

So we’ve said ‘empowering’. You the woman, who we thought was our sex slave, our feeders of life and beauty to our windowed souls, are empowered. Empowered because you have beauty, intelligence, warmth, tenderness, touch, soft hair, moist fertile fun buckets and bobbing fun bags. We are mesmerised by you, astounded by your superior capabilities, amazed by your softness and incapable of matching your physical capabilities and inner strengths.

We need you more than you know it and, the reality is, all we could be good for is our sperm to keep the reproductive cycle of life continuing. Well not exactly true. You will eventually need us to get up during the night to help with the children, drive kids around on weekends, mow the lawns, stoke up the occasional BBQ and pick you up from girls’ nights out — not to mention, of course, that we do listen occasionally, unlike your vibrator. Well at least that’s what I have been told and because I believe everything you say, I believe it to be the truth. I guess vibrators are hopeless kissers as well and I do know that women love to kiss and be kissed. But since this chapter is about penises, willies, dongers, johnsons, Mr Happy … then I guess we should talk about them.

You see, we don’t really know what you think of our willies, because we don’t know whether you are telling us the truth or not when you say you love our willies. We don’t know whether you are telling us the truth when you start telling us that our willy is perfect for you. We are glad you say it by the way. Understand, we want to believe you but deep down we know that sometimes you are lying. How do we know this? Simple, women talk and when we, as the male, are accepted into a women’s group because we may be considered safe, now that we are married or in a very stable relationship, then you can’t help but overhear conversations with girls talking about their new partners or old partners and their willies. The incredible thing is these women who talk about ex-partners or current partner’s penises are generally always single, or about to be single, and they seem never capable of keeping a relationship. They always seem on the hunt to pick up something better for themselves.

So you know that a bloke’s willy is important to him. This is not a sex class and I won’t pretend I’m a sex therapist, in fact far from it.

We love our willies and you should love our willies as well.

If you are kind to our willies then they will be kind to you. You see its God’s fault. It was God you know, that possibly make believe or maybe real supernatural person that invented us men as a result of some weird scientific experiment.

There was a day a long time ago and on that day there lived a man, a real man, faster than a speeding bullet, able to leap tall buildings in a single bound and sporting a huge donger. His name was God. He was conducting an experiment trying to make either a second-class of perfection in a new type of woman, or was trying to invent an ultra-superior woman. He took a very ugly specimen of a woman from Sweden, (it was a very difficult to find her), and placed her on the gene pool operating table, and began his experiment. He started by injecting Botox into her vagina, because that’s where any man would start and God was a man. The result was a donger but not as big as his. Unfortunately the Botox injection contained a minute trace of brain stem fluid that God had been experimenting with earlier. The resultant experiment meant that man was invented, but unfortunately invented with two brains with the second brain being called a willy. This resulted in women having just one brain and men having two. Now when the experiment was finished God thought he had done a wonderful job. His initial thought was he had mastered the invention of ‘Mankind’, and now wouldn’t have to concern himself with perfecting it anymore. He already thought women were perfect.

So what happened to stuff this experiment up? Well, he got the brain part right. Men have two brains — one in the head of their head and the other in the head of their other head. The problem is God didn’t think the whole thing through and, just like a plumber forgets to reconnect a hose, God overlooked his plumbing and only allowed blood flow to be directed to one head at a time, and never to both at the same time.

Hence men can only think with one brain at a time. Unfortunately, when the little brain works without consulting the big brain any number of uncertain events can occur.

So our willies are real people to us, or so we believe. If you think about it, I reckon our willies get more soap per square inch than any other part of our body. We wash it once and not like we wash our forearm. Then we wash it again two minutes later. Then we wash it again … just because we can. We’ve all heard mothers screaming at their boys in the teenage years telling us we are spending too much time in the shower. “What do you do in there?” Then we wash it again for good measure.

So what else is there we can discuss about our penises? That’s right, did I forget to mention to you that our willies are living, breathing, lovable ‘little’ creatures, who love being cuddled but not wrapped up to the point where they cannot breathe.

What I’m saying here, (if you are not capable of working it out), is we just don’t like condoms. In fact we hate condoms. When your willy wants to cuddle our willy, to embrace him and make him warm to the point of volcanic action, we don’t want to suffocate. The Goddess had a great idea on this and actually sent me to the doctor to get a full report. No one had ever done this before but it was good because I found out a few things. I had a perfect liver, which must be a joke or the ‘liver machine’ was on the blink, kidneys were great, cholesterol was within healthy limits, no herpes, no other spots and no HIV. Yep, passed the test so we could get on with it without ‘it’.

Unfortunately it revealed a few other things I didn’t like. I’m an inch shorter than I was 30 years ago, (no, not down there), and my blood pressure wasn’t great. I fixed the blood pressure quickly and I’m reading a book on bats now.

Oh the condom, well, if Peter Wright was a porn star he would have called his book Sperm Catcher instead of Spy Catcher. We hate condoms because we can’t feel a great deal through them and it sort of wrecks post-coital action having to remove the defender from the offender, so if there is a choice can we not use them please. There may be an answer to all this when you keep your new partner hanging out for a month before he gets to lighten the rocks. Send him to the doctor for his tests whilst you visit yours for a prescription or an IUD. I know I’m in deep shit throwing the responsibility your way to stop taddy making us a daddy, but I think it may be better this way. If not, tell me I’m wrong and enjoy the heavenly world of 10cc condom kingdom.

The amount of consciousness with which you can ravish your woman — the size of your ‘spiritual penis’, so to speak —
is determined by how fully you have surrendered as openness
and love. Practice opening as a free being, as unbounded love, even as thoughts come and go, fears clench and pass,
and desires ebb and flow.

—David Deida