Okay, long-dongitis is not actually the name of a real disease, but that only underlies my point—it’s a very real issue that has flown under the radar for far too long. It’s time we bring this stealth dong out from under the cloak of shame and into your living room. Into your lap. Into you face.
Having a large dong, as I do (And it’s huge! If it were a city, it’d be Hong Dong. If it takes a village to raise a child, it would only take one dong to destroy that village. My dong. If the Japanese made movies about my dong, it would be called Dongzilla), is not all it’s donged up to be. The porn industry and Madonna have glamorized long dongs for so long that it’s easy to forget all of the heartache, pain (physical and emotional), and embarrassment that go along with it.
Presented, for the first time, is a comprehensive list of issues faced by the penile-enhanced based on exhaustive scientific research and of course my own ginormous dong-related experiences. Because I have a big penis. I just wanted to make that clear.
1. Lack of Sexual FulfillmentOtherwise known as Kenny Rogers Syndrome.
I'll see your $20 and raise you a gigiantic dong.
Picture it, if you will. The Gambler is seated at a table in the back of a dusty saloon. His Stetson is low over his eyes. The dealer calls and he smiles. He’s looking at a straight-fucking flush. He slides his pile of cash into the center of the table and smiles that Kenny Rogers smile that used to make women throw their panties, but now just makes them want to buy chicken.
“All in,” he says. “I’m all in.”
That’s the kind of moment that makes you want to have a cigarette after. It’s just that good. When all those hours of training and losses and loneliness are about to payoff in a big, big way.
However, when you’re dong is plus-sized, you never get ‘all in’. Ever. You can train all you want, there’s never going to be a total payoff.
I completely lost track of this metaphor, so I'm just going to move on to the next issue.
I'll call this one the John Holmes Effect. I have a black friend who’s on the tall side. If I had a quarter every time someone wondered aloud if he played basketball, I’d have enough money to finally get to the last level of Ms. Pacman. I’m sure large Samoans, Jewish Bankers, and Jamaican bobsledders endure a similar kind of auto-prejudice.
The same can also be said of those long in the dong. I can’t uncoil my massive member at a public urinal without someone commenting, “Wow! You must be a porn star!” And I’m totally not. I gave that up in the 90’s.
But meanwhile the prejudice continues and we of long and schlong suffer it in silence. Where is my million dong march? When will someone stage a sit-in for my dong? Who will join me as I burn my customized underwear in front of the White House? Stand up my brothers!
Picured: The Million Man March. Granted, there would be some major overlap.3. Social Stigma and Repression of Dongedness
The world does not embrace the king-sized dong. No cup can contain my dong. No shorts are long enough. Speedos reject my dong faster than a midget hooker--only the Grand Canyon is a match to accept my dong.
Ambidexterity takes on terrible connotations when speaking of dongs.
Left-handed individuals face this on a daily basis. In a world where 90% of the population is right-handed, most tools and procedures are designed for the righties. But those with KDS (King Dong Syndrome) do not have to struggle with trivial things like mismatched scissors. We have to take extra cautions when using public toilets lest our dongs trawl the bottom of the bowl, which of course can lead to all kinds of medical issues.
4. Medical IssuesI suffer fainting spells. If I so much as see a hint of side boobage, I swoon like Scarlet O'Hara. It's not that I'm prudish or pining for a large southern gentleman to break my fall, it's just simple laws of distribution at play. When a guy pitches a boner-tent, blood floods to his winkie. In most cases, we're talking a minimal amount of blood and the body hardly notices the re-distribution. But when your dong rivals the Jersey Tunnel, the blood loss is simply too great and I collapse like a sack of potatoes. If, you know, those potatoes were really big dongs. I also suffer back problems, chaffing, and vision problems (from constantly poking myself, not from furious masturbation).
Makes you rethink the whole character of Captain Feathersword, doesn't it?
And there is no relief in sight. If a woman is sporting massive mammary pillows that weigh her down, she can pop in to her primary care provider and get those babies sucked down to a pert B cup and be back in the mall for lunch at Chipolte.
But there is no such thing as dong reduction surgery. You can't my friends, chop down a redwood tree. At least, not without destroying the entire forest.
So what can you do?God, I envy you--those of small in penis. You know who you are. By now you're probably putting on your tiny, tiny shoes and wondering 'What can I do to help? I had no idea it was this bad.' And those of us who must coil our anacondas around our legs to get our pants on appreciate your concern. The outlook, however, is grm. There really isn't a lot you can do. Don't stare. Don't whisper. Don't run screaming out of the bedroom. Wait until we fall asleep then leave a $20 on the nightstand before you go. Do what you can to make our torturous existence on this planet as comfortable as possible. For we are people, too. People with really big dongs.