October 25, 2004


The Man With the World's Smallest Penis is outside my house, right now, even as we speak. He is smiling, despite the fact of the miniscule genitalia. He actually seems oblivious to the invisible to the naked eye status of his package, in that he exudes waves of self-contentment, arrogance, and, even from a distance of over 50 feet, Hai Karate.
The Man With the World's Smallest Penis has outted himself to his physical limitations in the most basic mistake of middle-aged men in the thralls of that intoxicating second childhood that only a good discount toupee can provide: He is on a motorcycle that costs approximately the same as a good house in Newport Beach, or possibly even Malibu if you are willing to forego that fifth bathroom.
And it's a loud motorcycle. It's shiny, and covered in little dials and mirrors and leather bags thingys, and it's loud.
I know it's loud, because The Man With the World's Smallest Penis is sitting astride it directly in front of my apartment and revving the motor up to decibel levels that make the baby Ted Nugent cry. He revs the motor, nodding his head to some inevitable Warrant song about cherry pie, lets it subside down to mere window-rattling level, and then with a brisk jerk of the wrist (a muscle group he's more than proficient with) cranks the engine up to DC-10 volume again.
Once in a while, The Man With the World's Smallest Penis will tilt his head, as if listening to the screams and curses of neighbors, passing cars, and people three counties away. But trivial things like this never slow The Man With the World's Smallest Penis, and he continues to aurally stroke his ego for the rest of the afternoon.
At no time did The Man With the World's Smallest Penis ever disrobe in view of the neighborhood, nor does anyone personally know The Man With the World's Smallest Penis. So how, you might ask but I doubt I could hear you since I've been rendered stone-deaf, can I say The Man With the World's Smallest Penis does in fact have the World's Smallest Penis?
Because the smaller it is, my friend, the bigger one you will behave like.
Metaphor is a comfort in times like these.

Posted by LeeAnn at October 25, 2004 03:28 PM | TrackBack

As an avid sailor there a sign we flash whenever a truly obnoxious powerboat goes by.

A raised pinky finger.

Posted by: Stephen Macklin at October 25, 2004 07:04 PM

Yep. The same with a rediculously expensive sports car or Hummer/H2.

Under my breath I always say: "Sorry about your penis."

Posted by: Margi at October 25, 2004 07:30 PM

Heh - in our other neighborhood we had a guy like that - hey maybe it's the same guy!!! Except he would roll his buddy out of the garage and zip through the neighborhood at full screaming DC-10 steam at 5:30am every single morning. I hated that man!

Posted by: Teresa at October 25, 2004 08:51 PM

I'm large in the enhanced male package area so it takes a HUGE bike to haul mine around. I just wanted to be sure everyone here knows that. VRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMM!

Posted by: Bob at October 26, 2004 11:36 AM