Curt the Cocky Cowboy or Pirate Pete the Penis. Your choice…

Oh, this is really too much. Even for me…        

Image by Fireflies604 via Flickr

Remember my penchant for attracting togder photos? Well, I decided to give the penis a special mention in the internet dating guidebook I’m trying to write.

The chapter kinda goes something like this: Ladies, make sure you have eaten a light breakfast before reading this section. Take a couple of steadying breaths and hold my hand while I take you into the murkier side of online dating.

Tallywhackers. Biggus Dickus. Cockosaurus Rex.

Sisters, welcome to the world of Mr Winkey.

From the moment you sign up, be prepared for an inbox full of Purple Peckers in all their morning-glory. You’ll get short ones, skinny ones, fat ones, hairy ones, Brazilian ones, bent ones, thick ones, winking ones, smiling ones and even Mr Sad-Faced ones.

Instead of leaving it there, I had to go one step farther and add the ridiculous:

You’ll get willies in wellies, raincoats and berets…

I was playing around with other ludicrous images to finish the sentence – Stetson-style cowboy hats, Elvis quiffs and custom-made Ros Stewart wigs.

As you do.

But I couldn’t get the phrasing right, so just for fun, I Googled ‘Penis dress-up outfits’. Well! Tickle my foot with a feather, they do actually make dressing-up costumes for Wally the One-Eyed Wonder Wiener! Seriously! You can have Pirate Pete the Penis, or Phallic Fred the Fireman. There’s Private Willy who stands to attention in his army fatigues, or George the Gangsta Genitalia! If you’re in the mood for riding rough, slip your favourite cock into a cowboy costume. Or fancy playing Doctors and Nurses? That’s right! Pick up a set of scrubs for your very own Dr Dick.

And the best bit? All these outfits come complete with matching hats for Happy Harry’s … head!

Don’t believe me? See for yourself!

Or if that’s just a little too wacky for your tastes, but you’d still like a gift to keep your Main Man snuggly, try a dish-cloth penis cozy. Yep, Bernie’s making ’em to order over on One Mixed Bag.  Send her the required measurements and the sparks’ll soon be flying off her crochet hooks!        😉    

As for me, I’m gutted. If only I’d believed in my own stupidity, I could’ve been that Dress-up-your-Dong-dot-com-millionaire!

10 things guys should never say on a first date…

Image by sninky-chan via Flickr

• My penis is called Mr Winkey ~ Do I need to elaborate? No, I thought not.
• Do you like it doggy style?  Maybe, but you’ve just lost the chance of ever finding out. Introducing anything sexual on a first date is like signing your own death warrant. A girl wants to be wooed, not rude.
• I live with my mum ~ and I’ve never had to take responsibility for any of my actions, or do my own washing. You won’t ever make a steak and kidney pie to match my mum’s, but I’ll expect you to spend your life trying. And laundering my Y-fronts.
• Hi, my name’s Stuart and I’ve written a book ~ if a bloke ever says this to you on a date, take my advice and run! Don’t look back, just run. Run like your arse is on fire.
• Can I kiss you? What a wussy-wufty thing to say! But it tells me everything I need to know: this guy is an insecure schoolboy incapable of taking the lead. He needs to man up and grow a pair.  Instead of asking permission, he should just bloody well do it!
• You look much younger in your photo ~ crikey, and that’s before he’s seen you naked. Imagine how cherished he’ll make you feel when he’s got your flabby thighs wrapped around his neck.
• God! Did you not ask anyone how big your bum looked when you put those jeans on? See above.
• I’m on antidepressants, and/or I cry a lot ~ just put the poor bastard out of his misery right there and then, and stab him with a steak knife. Seriously, if he coughs up this much intimate info on a first date, he’s way too happy in his own wretchedness, and clearly not yet ready to let go. If you haven’t got the stomach for murder, walk away. Now. Before you’re begging him for Prozac.
• Are those for real? Nobody’s ever made this comment to me as it’s pretty damned obvious I’ve never had a boob job; who in their right mind would pay  for a couple of fried eggs (penny-sweet-sized) boobies? But rather more endowed friends have assured me this is a common question. Ye Gods!
• I’m still a virgin ~ only acceptable if your date is aged sixteen. If he’s reached forty and claims never to have done the dirty, then don’t be fooled; he’s either lying or he has no pecker. And God help us all if he really is a middle-aged innocent. I mean, who wants to re-live that particular cherry-popping moment – ‘No, love, technically you’re still a virgin. It doesn’t count if you come in your pants.’

Men are so contrary…

It seems the more I ask for the todger pictures to stop, the more I bloody well receive!

A couple of days ago it was this fearsome purple-headed monster…

A purple-headed monster

And then today, I got an e-mail saying, ‘As requested in your blog, a photo of my tackle while I eat a Mars Bar. Seems a peculiar request, but..’ and up popped this not-so-little beauty…

What a beautifully proportioned Mars bar...

Thanks, Dan and Alya. You both had me ROFL-ing  🙂   🙂  🙂

Over to you, Mr Bananas. Can you resist the challenge? 😉

Just one cock-up too many…

Image by wstera2 via Flickr

Can someone help me out here, please? Preferably before I scream and scream and explode in angry frustrated blobs that splatter the walls and make a mess of the carpet….

Remember me telling you about the deluge of indecent Purple Pecker Pictures I kept receiving in my inbox? Well, to stop the willy onslaught, I added my own appendage to my profile page:

Oh, and please DON’T send me photos of  your dangly bits. There’s a time and place for everything, and ‘Hello, here’s my todger’ isn’t one of them!

To me, that’s fair enough, and straight to the point, if you’ll pardon the pun. So why then, do I have an e-mail lurking in my message box, entitled: Hello, would you like to see my one-eyed trouser-snake?

Tell me where I’m going wrong, people. I mean, was that too subtle a message? Too sophisticated? Too obfuscating-ly oblique?

And it’s not that I’m a prude. If I was dating someone and we’d already done the jiggly jiggly, and he sent me a picture of his doodle along with a witty comment like ‘Meet me for dinner. I’m bringing desert!’, then I’d be as skippy as a teenager at a Justin Bieber gig.

But coming face-to-head with a strange, disembodied penis during your morning cuppa? It’s enough to scramble your eggs…

And, for the love of Mars bars and other things holy, don’t tell the  gorilla. He’s extremely protective. If he finds out other men have been flashing their wares in my face, there’s no telling what he’d do. In fact, he’d probably go completely bananas 😉