Friday, December 08, 2006

BAD NEWS ON THE BULGING BONER FRONT
In my previous posting, I expressed how comforted I was by the fact that 28% of women would be quite happy to tickle my tiny todger because they don't care about size. However, I spoke too soon. This morning, I received a new email with the stunningly honest title of "Adding few more inches to your Johnson" that dealt a crippling blow to my already fragile ego:

"Salute Chap

I don't care why your woody is so small, but 88% of women do.
They are pretty sure that bigger thing will make their desire
stronger. You have the chance to change your life."

Oh my Lord, the goalposts have been shifted. The acceptable 28% has become a frightening 12%, which, if it represents a mathematical progression, suggests that if I don't around to swinging the strawberry snake this weekend, by Monday there's a good chance that zero percent of women will be interested in my minuscule Moby.

So it now looks like that if I want to join the ranks of those guys with tremendous tallywhackers, I'm going to have to shell out for the "Prolonging the Perpendicular Pickle" program after all. I just hope it doesn't involve weights and string.

Addendum
Also in today's fun-filled can of spam I received an invitation from Dr. Nikolai N. Vaganov of the "Children's Clinical Hospital" to "Save Children." Tragically, I already have two and no space in which to save any more. Sure, the ones on sale appear to be relatively cheap - about the price of one Starbucks latte per week but without the rich, satisfying aroma and smooth, tongue-caressing flavor - but in my experience, they have a high operating cost. Besides, they are also difficult to flush down the toilet when you get bored with them, unless you cut them into tiny pieces and that's messy. I recommend hamsters as an alternative because (a) they flush easier and (b) can make a tasty kebab snack if you have a few of them.

Still, don't let my experience of saving kids put you off. Why, I hear there are lots of sad, lonely men out there, surfing the Internet, who would be only too pleased to save a few children. I bet Dr. Vaganov could even charge a premium for some of them.

Monday, December 04, 2006

I REALLY DON'T CARE ABOUT MY SMALL PENIS - HONEST!
Truth in Advertising. There's a phrase that is often preached but not always practiced. However, at least some folks in the Spam world are brave enough to say it like it is. Take for example the e-mail I received some minutes ago with the no-nonsense, in-your-face title of "Hello man, your woody is really small!"

Kudos first of all for getting the right gender. I get particularly annoyed by spam that exhorts me to increase my breast size or pay more attention to my feminine hygiene. The least a spammer can do is identify me as a male.

I also have to admire the way in which the spammer leverages right into the common male insecurity of penis size. After all, which guy actually thinks his schlong is too long? No, 99% of men think they are under-endowed; the other 1% are fooling themselves.

The text of the message is even more honest in tone:

Hei dude


Don't tell me why your thing is so small, I will better help you to make it really Bigger!

Why bigger? Because over 72% of all women need a longer prick to satisfy their desire!

Go there and get your solution.

It'll really help you!

We will ship it worldwide within 24 hours, and if you find our product useless - we'll refund all your money!

I could, of course, resign myself to having a small penis and be content with finding the 28% of women who, apparently, don't need an extended tallywhacker to reach satisfaction. But then again, a simple click to a website could open up my potential pool of partners.

I hope the "solution" includes a way of advertising my new-found length. After all, what's the point of having an enormous three inches if nobody knows about it. How are those 72% supposed to be cognizant of the fact that I can now bring them to the heights of sexual ecstasy with a mere wave of my magic wand? Maybe the spammers have an e-mail list of these women and will be happy to send them my address. Or perhaps the solution comes with a T-shirt along the lines of "I have a big penis - wanna take a ride, baby?"

I can't lose because they will refund ALL my money if the product is useless, although if I have a small penis and continue to have a small penis, do I really want to go through the indignity of proclaiming that fact to the world?

Still, I can't fault these folks for honesty when it comes to describing what they are marketing. Sure there's no picture of the "solution" (which could be, for all I know, a strap-on extension or an eight-pound weight on a piece of elastic) but if it makes Little Timmy into Big Bobby, then life's good, yes?