The Penis Monologues Are Coming!
The vibrant phenomenon that redefined the male body will soon be here. Until then, please read these wonderful excerpts. Come, and you will never be the same again.
For years I have asked men of all classes and races the most personal questions and recorded their answers. At first, there is always a pause, a recognition of moving into a different world. The taboo, the forbidden. But once the men I asked overcame their inhibitions, their experiences came freely from them, adding and layering until their many voices began to come together into a single warm stream. I asked them about their penis, how they thought of it, what they did with it. It took only a short time to realize that every man had his own special, unique penile identity. Here is related an untold story that has for too long been suppressed. It is a story of vitality and virility, of beauty and sadness. It is the sum part of my interviews, the Penis Monologues…I had thought it was all my fault when it happened, but with time and greater knowledge I realized that my wife had no appreciation for the true beauty of penises. She would hardly even look, it was a region that I now realize she avoided; she would always avert her eyes from my cock. She was heartless and had no consideration for my needs day after day until she finally left me and took the kids. I’ve hardly been able to see them ever since. She’s always trying to keep me away from them and the courts invariably back her…
If you could dress your penis what would you do?
-A tuxedo, my penis is a gentleman.
-I’d give it a Roman legionnaire’s helmet.
-Definitely a disco suit.
-An astronaut suit, nice and tight.
-A bathrobe, mine is the casual type.
-It’s naked, at one with the natural order…What would your penis say?
-“Ramming speed!”
-“Please, please, oh please!”
-“Just hanging out.”
-“Almost there, almost there!”…
Hilda was a perfectly boring woman. Not a single trait distinguished her, but she loved penises. She would stare at them all for hours and hours, fascinated with every shape and size. She loved them when they lay in limp repose amongst a lush foliage of pubic hairs, she loved them when they stood to the height of their nobility, towering above the leafy canopy below…Cock. Cock. Cock. There, I’ve said it. That forbidden word of penile identity. A word that hails far back in time to the ancient religion of the Celts. It is a strong word, a sacred word that referred to the potent part of a man, a word that has been suppressed by society. With its every utterance we become free of the forces that hold back our penile identity. Let us all say it and throw back the powers that be. Cock! Cock! Cock!…
My penis. My penis. The flaming spear of Ares, the passionate arrow, the pillar of creation, a great mountain of fire seeping white hot lava! My penis, my penis, me…