Dear Ray Harvey: I’m one of these guys with a big belly and an extremely small penis. I’m heterosexual, and I drive a truck for a living. I do not get a lot of exercise. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been pained by the size of my penis. I’m seriously considering surgical augmentation (in my late thirties). Do you have particular thoughts on this issue? Should I, or shouldn’t I?
— Dick Weed
P.S. Pumps don’t work.
Dear Dick Weed: Indeed, I do have very particular thoughts on this issue, despite the fact that, as fate would have it, my problem is the opposite of yours. My thoughts are these:
Don’t do it.
Quoting from the gospels:
“A man’s life consisteth of more than the size of his dick” (The Gospel According to Ray, Chapter 1, Verse 1).
Didn’t you hear about the plastic surgeon who hung himself?
Listen, Mr. Weed, when it comes to satisfying a woman, you know the commandments:
Don’t stampede the clitoris.
Don’t neglect the labia.
I give you a new commandment now: The journey is the way.
Truckdriver, that’s an old German dictum, and what it means is something I’d like for you to take with you from here on out, every time you enter your bedroom, your wife, or your rig:
Sex is not a race, and intercourse isn’t the only kind of sex. There are plenty of things you can do with your lug nuts, your digits, your tungsten wires, and I’m not just blowing your horn when I say that.
At a bar where I once worked, a customer told me that his penis was only three inches — but he swore up and down that most women didn’t like it that thick.
Mainly, Mr. Weed, what I’m suggesting to you is this: learn to enjoy the journey, because the journey is the way; your penis is only a small part of it (so to say).
Slow her down, friend, and I promise that your extremely small penis will be all the penis she needs. It’s not as if you’re trying to make Amarillo by morning (or are you?) Enjoy the process, soup-to-nuts, because as you know, the end will come soon enough, and all ends are bitter.
Now keep on trucking, big daddy.