I'm puzzled by all these ads proclaiming their products will make you longer-harder-better because when I was a single gal I never noticed a rampant deficiency in penile size among the menfolk, and without getting into specific numbers I think I witnessed a representative sampling. Out of all my encounters with the male member there was only one time that I thought to myself, Is that all there is? And also just one instance where the phrase "hung like a horse" honestly sprang to mind.
That littlest weenie was on one of the tallest guys I ever bedded, while the biggest was on this pretty short dude, so keep in mind, ladies, that height is no indication of what awaits you down below. We women pretty much don't know what the hell we're getting until we're at least at the groping stage, whereas men can see upfront the bosom that's in store for them, Wonderbras aside, and decide whether it looks like it's worth it before they so much as buy that rack a drink.
Still, I mostly trusted that whatever was going to be unzipped would be sufficient to get the job done, and it's hard for me to imagine that things have changed so much that there are now hordes of guys in desperate need of a penis patch, which sounds like a nicotine patch for a spent member hankering after a smoke. My guess is it's the men who are anxiously concluding their johnsons could use another inch or three, while the women consider their toolboxes to be perfectly fine.
It makes sense that males would be focused on physical size since they're so obsessed with bigness when it comes to breasts. They just assume that we females slaver after long dicks the way they hunger after large hooters. At a party I attended, a few guys brought up an image on the computer of an absolutely humungous erect penis -- it must have been a foot and a half long. The guys eagerly called me over to see what my reaction would be, but all I could say was "Ouch."
We want it big enough, but that's about it, fellas. This jumbo dog was photographed so the human attached to it wasn't even visible, making it that much less appealing. We women aren't wired to drool over a detached body part, despite the vixen in the picture sticking out her tongue like the pole was a candy cane.
We don't single out men's privates for scrutiny, either, the way they do our boobs, or certainly not with the same adoring fixation. I've noticed that when my husband and other men chronicle past relationships they often identify the women in terms of their breasts, such as, "She had the ninnies that pointed off to the sides," or, "Hers sloped down with really big nipples," or even, "Yeah, she was brilliant and the heiress to a fortune, but she had no tits," as if this of course explains their blowing the opportunity of a lifetime.
In contrast, I confess that the penises that have passed through my, ahem, portal are pretty much one big blur, other than the standouts of the biggest, smallest, uncircumcised, and that one with the a funny crook in it that got to what I guess was my G-spot. OK, so maybe there were a few distinctive features, but overall a dick is a dick.
I just don't picture myself nodding before the fire in my twilight years reminiscing, Now that was a male member, by God! But I'd bet money that my husband will still be fondly flipping through his mental scrapbook of jugs.
So my advice to all you men is to relax and take a pass on the promises to make you "king of the bedroom." By just having a penis you already are, and you should thank the Good Lord every day that he gave you something that inspires us women to put up with your crap.
Besides, it's scary to contemplate what might happen if millions of guys buy these products and they actually work, or if genetic engineering gets to the point where parents place specific orders for their unborn babies' characteristics. You know what every father's request will be: "I want a genius male child with a huge schlong!" And there'll be a whole lot of women walking around as if they've just gotten off a horse. Ouch.