Last night, in a post about a new bar in Ypsi, I noted my dislike of trough urinals. This admission attracted the following comment from an Ypsilantian by the name of Karen.
If you’re ashamed of your penis that much, you should get a catheter for when you go out to eat.
In a later comment, she went on to speculate that I may suffer from “discoloration problems,” or that there may be something unusual going on with my testicles.
Well, after consulting with my family, and several local clergymen, I’ve decided to make a statement.
There’s nothing wrong with my penis.
Truth is, I just don’t much enjoy excreting bodily fluids in front of strangers.
For what it’s worth, I also try my best not to poop in front of people that I don’t know.
And, I should add, that has nothing to do with the shape, coloration or functionality of my anus. (It’s exquisite, by the way.) I just think that some things are best kept private.
But, as I know that many of you, like Karen, are suspicious by nature, and think that there’s some kind of penile deformity lurking beneath the crotch of my Toughskins, I’ve asked Linette to submit a sworn affidavit describing every subtle nuance of my genitalia. (She’s been keeping detailed notes on it for close to two decades now, so the report should be somewhat exhaustive, and I’m hoping that it will put any lingering doubts to rest once and for all.) And, if this doesn’t satisfy Karen and the other Penile Truthers in the audience, I’ll submit to examination by a neutral party (preferably someone with a lab coat).
And, for what it’s worth, my mother says that I have a beautiful body.
17 Comments
Does anyone remember that there was an outcry from the Tea Party, at the height of the so-called Birther movement, demanding photos of Obama’s penis? They apparently thought that his circumcision, or lack there of, would prove something.
And how ironic that I’d be forced to release this penis information the same day that Romney was forced to share his tax records.
We demand the long form.
Subpoena Hasan!
I think I know your secret.
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-2089360/Hazel-Jones-Woman-2-vaginas-rejects-1m-pornography-offer.html
I can wear a lab coat.
The City has made an official statement:
http://cityofypsilanti.com/Government/BoardsCommissions/DirectoryofBoardsCommissions/tabid/126/ctl/Access%20Denied/Default.aspx?message=It%20is%20our%20sincere%20belief%20that%20Mark%20Maynard%20has%20an%20exquisite%20anus%20and%20no%20penis%20discoloration%20or%20deformity.
Given the nastiness of the comments, I’m guessing Karen Maurer. Am I right?
Yep, nothing egomaniacal about Mark Maynard. Even the jokes he turns back on himself are narcissistic. The tool he should be hiding from the public is himself.
Technically, I think it’s a schlong form, Dirtgrain.
I am new to the area. I am a doctor from Spain. I would be honored to do the analysis.
Sincerely,
Dr. Alberto Rodriguez
http://imgur.com/JOuNs
Karen, given that you’re apparently cool with urinating in front of people, I was wondering if perhaps I could watch sometime.
Hi Mark. :) Miles thinks that trough urinals are ‘too splashy’ as well. Do you find that to be the case? And who is this ‘Karen’ anyway — aren’t you allowed to say what your preferences are when it comes to the loo? Maybe she prefers the heated seat kind with the little warm air blower that gently dries you off after the ‘refreshing’ cleanse. Sheesh.
If Karen refuses your request, Steve, there can only be one explanation. She’s ashamed of her mottled vulva.
I’m sure you’ve already caught on, but Dr. Rodriguez is not what he seems. Please do not allow him to inspect your junk.
Now I’ve got that song “If I Said You Had a Beautiful Body Would You Hold It Against Me” stuck in my mind. Combined with the last line in this post, it’s creeping me out.
J, if I give you a few bucks, can you put other messages up on the city’s website? I’d like to, for instance, compliment a woman I say today wearing a sweatshirt with a giant airbrushed image of Fred Sanford on the front. I think that deserves an official shout-out from the city.
$5 to the first person who either asks Karen in person to watch her pee, or tries to console her about her mottled vulva.
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