Even though I was once told not to blame
my penis for my mistakes, it continuously betrays my youth.
Whilst some may think insanity and the
inability to control one’s thoughts is an undignified disposition I find
the involuntary activities of my loins a much more troubling state of
affairs.
Excusable as it may be for a teenaged
boy to pitch a tent at the high school ball slow dance a grown man who
harbours the growing expression of his most primitive reflexes is near
unforgivable. Just imagine sharing a dance floor with every guy and his
pride and glory.
But the shaft is not just a shaft. It
has a head and with this head comes a mind of it’s own.
Sometimes we
don’t even know why there’s suddenly no space in our pants because we
were busy typing a spreadsheet document. Maybe it’s reminding us to take
a quick browse at Youporn. Priorities.
It is important to note that, once our
dear friend has his mind made up there’s no talking yourself out of it.
One cannot compare the urges of Madame Pussycat, aka the vagina, with
the aching of a man’s loins. When women are overcome by desire they’re
still functioning, taxpaying members of society and women, on the most
part, can maintain their standards.
(But) when the penis takes over the mind
of it’s owner it has little to no regard for reputations, standards and
office deadlines.
Please understand, ladies, that this is not an
excuse. It’s fact. There are hundreds of millions of men wandering in a
seemingly aimless zombie state with sex in their eyes. We are but leaves
in the winds of our lustful wants.
So I implore you to please forgive my
penis for it knows not what it does. Hell, I don’t even think it’s mine
most of the time.
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