I'm getting a new kind of spam. Along with all the rape and incest sites, I'm getting an invitation to buy pumps or drugs to increase the size of my dick. Weird. Why do they think I'd want to do that? I guess they know that a secret anxiety about penis size is fairly common in our culture, so they're onto a winner. 'O God someone's found out and they've sent me an email'.
Most dicks I've seen are round about the same size - with one or two notable exceptions - so the perception of dick size is in the head. Half the male population go round thinking 'Whoa! Get a hold of this monster' and the half go 'You mustn't see my dick. Its so humiliating.' And they are all about the same size.
Maybe women have the same thing about tit size? Some women with nice tits want to have surgery to alter them. And you get these really attractive, androgenous women with small boyish breasts, and they want to have implants so they can look like porn stars. Then they look awful.
Maybe penis surgery is going to come in big. Guys with 6 inch dicks having them made up to 9 inches with a dildo implant. 'Grab hold of this monster' and then the thing drops off.
Spring is here tra-la. Spent the morning pruning rose bushes instead of painting. Oh and baking bread, which is one of my therapies.
Most dicks I've seen are round about the same size - with one or two notable exceptions - so the perception of dick size is in the head. Half the male population go round thinking 'Whoa! Get a hold of this monster' and the half go 'You mustn't see my dick. Its so humiliating.' And they are all about the same size.
Maybe women have the same thing about tit size? Some women with nice tits want to have surgery to alter them. And you get these really attractive, androgenous women with small boyish breasts, and they want to have implants so they can look like porn stars. Then they look awful.
Maybe penis surgery is going to come in big. Guys with 6 inch dicks having them made up to 9 inches with a dildo implant. 'Grab hold of this monster' and then the thing drops off.
Spring is here tra-la. Spent the morning pruning rose bushes instead of painting. Oh and baking bread, which is one of my therapies.
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Bread?
Something about the smell of a fresh loaf.