50 Ways to Love Your Lever

Girls ... girls ... girls ... please.

A seemingly innocent post about a news story about some Indian men and their difficulties with prophylactics has started a mini-Bloggerstorm of comments, questions and concerns over the size of our junk. Katie asked a question in my comments box (no pun intended), Pam added Kerosene to the fire by answering her and Kimmyk put up an entire post asking about the average size. Penis this, penis that ... penis, penis, penis. Holy shit, Hannah.

Geez, girls - get a grip. Let's talk about shopping.

'Tis the season ... Or so it seems. I guess the season we think it is depends upon our upbringing.

Every time the Christmas (excuse me, the holiday) shopping season comes around, it makes me think about the variances in our lives and how those variances interact with those of us who get in the way.

The first thing that comes to mind is that we are all forced to drive someplace. Driving is one of those social skills that not all of us posses, but all of us must do. It puts the lesser skilled at a disadvantage when they are forced to interact with those who have a skill. Because everyone is forced to drive, they make it difficult on those of us who have the necessary skills. We deal with them because we have no choice. There are no alternatives, so we blow our car horns, point and gesture. It doesn't help them, but it makes us feel better. "Dumbass! Get off the road!" Now, I feel better.

Shopping at this time of year is a similar experience. Regardless of whether or not they want to be there, the shoppers are out. Many of them only venture to the shopping mall once or twice a year. The other time may be for a birthday gift or some special occasion, but holiday shopping is universal, and the unskilled are out and about, harassing us. They have no choice but to be there, and their cluelessness is our misery.

These are the same people who wait until the end of the checkout to start writing the check (please ... the ATM card!) or stand at the counter packing up the remaining belongings of their purse/wallet while the rest of us wait. Tedium. Buy your shit and get out of the way.

In case you don't know, I am a man (with a penis) who is well aware of the vagaries of shopping. So much so, that I am easily irritated by the clowns who venture out at the holiday season (got it right that time) to buy a gift, regardless of their institutional knowledge of the process.

And so, my trip to the local mall on Saturday was bound by the once-a-year shoppers, seemingly unaware of my existence. They were left to bump into me, brush against my arm and otherwise make my shopping experience miserable. I could see the blank looks on their faces and the clueless wander of their gait as they meandered around, unaware that there were other people or other stores available than the ones they had focused upon.

I tried to be understanding of their plight. They may spend three hours in a shopping mall in a year, and their clueless expression would bear that out. Part of me wanted to help them. "What are you looking for?" I would ask. The other, bigger part of me wanted them to get the Hell out of my way, and the obvious choice would be for them to get a computer and buy it on-line. Some of us are trying to get to the food court, and your aimless wandering in search of the Yankee Candle store is in no way helping me. I'm tired and hungry.

It's almost over, this annual clueless-man shopping trip. Soon, the mall will be mine again. Mine, and the rest of my mall brethren who are amply experienced in the ways of shopping that allow us no mercy for the clueless shoppers who step on our feet, bump into us and generally contribute to the mess that is the Christmas (holiday - damn!) shopping season.

As far as the size of their penises, I really have no clue nor interest. It's tough enough carrying this stuff around without the constant worry of whether or not my girth is adequate. First things first. Let me get a date and I'll have my girlfriend post a comment about how many girth units I am and where I stand in the vast realm of men and their peni.

In the meantime, I'll be at the mall, buying her an expensive gift that will make all discussion of penis size, girth or any other such units irrelevant.

Besides, I don't think I heard anybody mention anything about tongue size.