WHEN THE JUNK MAIL GETS PERSONAL
WHEN THE JUNK MAIL GETS PERSONAL
by jason mashak
Each day I check my electronic mailbox, bewildered
I’m not shocked by it all
Even though 20-30 strangers
seem to know the size of my penis
More concerned than I am, they offer assistance,
remedies that must grow something
(a third nipple perhaps?) if not
the promised “majestic rod that will make her writhe in pain”
I ignore them, fairly happy with my little guy
as it does its job most of the time
“One Penile Enlargement Kit checked to an Austin Powers…” –that’s not mine babey! Ha! Short and sweet piece (poem and your unit!). LMAO with “majestic rod that will make her writhe in pain”.
I think we’ve all been in a situation where we had to ignore the critics. Is this poem from the perspective of a male porn star, or is it just office gossip aka word of mouth that these critics have ascertained the size of the author’s ‘little guy’? In any case, very funny. I’m reminded, well, somewhat of genitalia humor, of that movie ’40 days’ (is it?) where Josh Hartnett gets this ‘walls closing in on him’ feeling when with other girls after a big breakup with his girlfriend…and his friend says “No! you are going to strap on his helmet and get back out there!” …ah, i’m gonna gave to re-rent that one.