It was a bit cold last night. I wasn't sleeping well and doing some tossing and turning. Unfortunately on one of the turnings I got the left one caught under my armpit. It's not my fault, stupid Newton and his law of gravity. If it hadn't been for him I might have stayed pointing straight out instead of dropping on my feet.
Anyhow in the aftermath of squish extraction, I wondered about men.
I suppose if they wear PJs, their tackle wouldn't go wandering too far but if they don't, do they ever have squish moments? A sudden roll over in bed one way and the jewells go the other?
And edge of the bed moment and they fall over the precipice? I guess they'd have to be well endowed to really do damage on that one.
What do they do with all that outdoor plumbing when it's not confined?
Using my imagination about this. It's too long ago to remember.
*wanders off to curiously peruse fridge door*
33 comments:
I thought it just shrivelled up and dropped off after the age of 40, along with their memory of what it was actually used for ? :P
Jayne, that's just wishful thinking but we could ask Hot Andrew. I bet he haaaaaaaaaas a loooooooooooong memory.
My man sleeps nekkid, always has, with no problems at all. But then he's not a huge man.......
Oh yes? Compared to who? ha ha ha.
Hello darlings (baby the rain must fall) my little doodle has always been cautious, most respectful, having learned to check the price before showing interest.
Sincerely.
-Robert.
jayne, no it's still here and I just keep wondering why it is that women don't remember how useful it can be.
As frequent house guest Brigitte Bardot oft used to exclaim, "Is that a tent in your bedroom, or are you just pleased to see me?"
river, as the saying ought to go. "Size doesn't matter. It's what you can't do with it."
(Cues Hughes ...)
Re us women folk Jahteh - I just sort of scoop myself together as I roll over and everything stays wthin the two arms and then I hug myself as I go to sleep - not qiote the real thing but it has a certain security with it...sigh.
"stupid Newton and his law of gravity. If it hadn't been for him I might have stayed pointing straight out instead of dropping on my feet"
If push comes to shove I can point you in the direction of an understanding, ask no questions chiropodist.
"*wanders off to curiously peruse fridge door*"
So you still have that bonsai polaroid Hughes eponymously sent you?
Men are actually very vulnerable, when you think about it with it all just dangling, hanging out potentially in harm's way. Their hard, penetrative, thrusting, aggressive, reputation is for most of the time, just a squishy front--apt to get caught in zippers, snipped off with scissors, jammed in doors, caught in a vice, bitten off, crushed in a steely grip, et cet era
Mine prevents me from rolling over in my sleep. And girls, they are not made of delicate crystal. We may easily flinch, but they are made of tough stuff.
It hangs out to be handy, ready to go; feminist fantasies are two cents each, you'll never win.
Get yourself a dog middle child, I've got three -and myself, all in a single bed. Enormous security.
Truly, my career in romance matches my career as a poet: total disaster.
But still, if I took the same time to get a hard on as Miss Jayne's blog takes to boot up it'd be even worse.
R. H. Gpt the most lovely affectionate dog on the planet - but he's too large and old to beallaowed or able to get up onto any bed...he's just lovely though and about my best mate.
"caught in zippers, snipped off with scissors, jammed in doors, caught in a vice, bitten off, crushed in a steely grip,"
Caroline, so that Copper "can't keep a secret" witch has been blabbing to you about my fetishes then!
Lord Sedgers, I fully remember how those weapons fail in their aim at the all important bowl :P
Bobby-boy, Robert-me-lad...if you take less than 11 seconds to get up to the bar then I'd suggest you cease those little blue pills :P
Speaking as somebody who, to paraphrase an episode of Friends 'Goes Comando', I can reassure the female readers of this blog that certain male dangly bits not only cause problems in the night but also during daylight hours. Sit down the wrong way on a bus and the attention of the other passengers can quickly be drawn to the tongue-biting yelps of agony.
Having said that, I am hung like a butcher's window, so this might not apply to all men. As for it not having much use after forty, there are still plenty of jobs around the house and garden that require the assistance of a sturdy wrecking bar.
Well I remember...I think.
Out damned spot!
River, you stopped before you finished the interesting TMI.
Rh, "Little"?
MiLord, women have 'selective memory' but in your case 'total amnesia'. A bonsai Hughes, interesting but does it come with a magnifying glass?
Therese, scooping is something I should take up. Sleeping alone must be really hard for you now, perhaps when Thorn the wonder dog goes, you could buy some new puppies, several kittens, maybe a rabbit or two and a larger bed.
Caroline, wonderfully graphic, but you forgot the boiling oil, scalding tea, melting point coffee and the dropped cigarette.
Andrew, I see our Miss O'Dyne has granted your wish and you are now blogrolled as 'Hot Andrew'.
Not made of crystal, SHOW US THE MONEY!!!!
Don't believe him Caroline, the only fetish he has is trying to find it on a dark night without his glasses on and them remembering what it was he wanted it for.
"A bonsai Hughes, interesting but does it come with a magnifying glass?"
Nope, it comes fully kitted out with pair of secateurs ... no, I misspoke, a single secateur suffices.
"the only fetish he has is trying to find it on a dark night without his glasses on and them remembering what it was he wanted it for."
Phhht! I never had any complaints when I was shacked up with Helen Keller.
What do they do with all that outdoor plumbing when it's not confined?
Spend time rearranging it and attempting to draw attention to it.
What's wrong with spending time rearranging things?
'Twas done with the deck chairs on the Titanic before it went down
You can laugh (and yes I have a little one), but never discount the dialogue between a man and his doodle.
Read my paper: My Doodle and Me, presented to the Williamstown Historical Society, 12/4/1989.
Like Sedgewick says, size doesn't matter.
"Like Sedgewick says, size doesn't matter."
As the Jack Russell said to the Great Dane...
Fleetwood, 'hung like a butcher's shop', you have a hook in yours?
Phil, as long as the Qld mould doesn't get to it.
Sedgers, I knew you were older than you said.
Rh, a giant intellect makes up for nature's shortcomings.
River, ditto.
Oz, fiddling comes in handy, stops them picking their nose.
Lord Sedgwick is so right, re-arranging too much and down it goes.
No...bursting with sweetmeat goodies and cumberland sausgae.
Giant intellect? If only......
The man is a mental health statistic.
Sorry, Jahteh's judgement is very good on these matters, I'd have to agree with her.
A great misfortune in life is a small brain and a small cock.
I call it the dirty double.
A friend (male) often reminds me -it's not the size of the dog in the fight, it's the size of the fight in the dog.
So, arm yourself with a leash and you'll be right, J lol ;)
Bad luck Fleetwood, I'm a vegetarian.
River, all men are mental health statistics, that's why women were invented.
Jayne, I know that somewhere in there is a gem of wisdom, I'll just get the dog biscuits and try and find it.
Rh, nobody could be that unlucky but it would help if he was rich.
I know a generously well endowed young woman who turned over in bed one night (sleeping au naturelle) - and almost took her husband's eye out with her nipple when it flung over and the momentum and gravity hit him fair and square - he didn't complain and nor should he and she's a blonde
So she's the 40DDD blonde responsible for giving us Stevie Wonder, Ray Charles and Blind Boy Billy-Jo-Bob ... I should be so lucky, lucky, lucky!
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