2 old ladies on a bench

Image by lamazone via Flickr

 Well, Edna, it’s Tuesday, we’ve had our all-you-can-eat lunch from Sushi Itto and now it’s time to exercise our brains. Stop complaining, you old cow – I told you you shouldn’t have had dessert.  Let me get my glasses. Where’s that discussion list we made up? Oh, here it is. The topic today is – penises. Yes, you can turn red if you want to act missish, but I’ve known you for 60 years. No dementia for me! I remember what you used to do when you weren’t in chapel! Used to be one of your favourite interests, you old kilt-trollop, you! Just don’t go starting to get breathless on me. Where’s your inhaler?  Okay, here it is. I’ll go first.

I guess you could say I’ve seen a lot of them over the years – penises, that is. I mean, you know my three brothers? They loved to run around bare-assed and they always invited me to watch when they peed outside. Of course I went! Winter, summer, didn’t matter. If there were two of them together, they had to pee outside. They used to make designs in the air or in the snow.  But even though I was a late bloomer, so to speak, I’ve looked at maybe dozens since I grew up: stubbies, chubbies, brown, white, old, young. And all of them fine, in their own way. They felt real good, too. Stop rolling your eyes, Edna – you were there before me, most of the time! Hmmm. I used to be able to make them stand up with just a look. And talk about making them perform! I sure did. I was bad, there for a lot of years, but I sure had me some fun. It’s been a while, but I remember every one of them.

Always amazed me, though, how a couple of ounces of skin and muscle between a man’s legs could be so important. Men kill with it, kill for it; women want it when they don’t have it and try to chop it off sometimes when they do. Heh, heh. Men, women, dogs, monkeys. Doesn’t matter one bit. They even make them out of life-like plastic. What does that mean, ‘life like’? Does it sweat or squirt or get erectile dysfunctional?  Did you ever try one of those new multiple-speed ones – you can tell me, Edna.  Do you still have the one I bought you in Las Vegas before Stan passed on? Ain’t nothing like the real thing, though, as the song says.

Seems to me men must have spent a lotta spare time thinking up what to call their privates. Did you ever think of all the names they have for it? Prick, dick; rod, log; prong, dong, schlong; pecker, peter; pork, dork. My, my, but there must be thirty or forty ways to say penis – and that’s only what I know in English!  What? You read there are over a thousand names for it? Well, I’m not surprised. Personally, I don’t care what they call it, as long as there’s some talent and energy built in. Umm, ummm, ummm. A lotta men personalize that thing, too, so they can be on a first-name basis with what’s making a fool of them – George, Sammie, Arthur, Fred. Amazes me, sometimes, Edna, the things men say and do about their wing-wangs. And they start early, too.

Couple of years ago, my grandson was sitting out in the backyard in his kiddie pool. Must have been about eighteen, twenty months old. As I recall, he was built pretty good for a baby, too, but that runs in the family. Of course he was naked – what does a baby need with a pair of pants in a pool of water? Hot as hell that day, too! Anyway, I’m sitting there on the deck to see that he don’t drown and I’m sneaking a smoke and reading, then I look up cause it’s gone quiet all of a sudden. Well, don’t you just know, he’s sitting there in about 4 inches of water and he has this look on his face.  Well, any woman who’s had sex with a man a couple of times would recognize that big-eyed, happy stare, like his eyes had come unhinged. And I sneak out of my chair and stand on the edge of the deck. I look down and sure enough, he has his little pecker in his hand and he’s rolling it between his fingers like it’s a cigar. And he is smiling and humming away. I call out to him, Eddie, but he doesn’t hear me – just sits there rolling and grinning, with his little toes curled up tight, bobbing his head and breathing sort of fast.

I had to shake my head and laugh to myself. That little baby boy was already learning what it meant to feel what a man feels. Just like a man, too, cause half a minute later, a bug landed in the water and he forgot what he was doing and went after it. I laughed my head off at that! Penises. Yeah, I’ll take a couple. Any time, any where.  Hey! You ever done it with more than one man at a time?