14 July 2015


It's impugned that I own guns because I have a small dick.

This accusation is also slung at people who own Corvettes, which I do.

Tell you what, haters...

I do have a small dick.

It was small before I bought my first gun.  I was small before I bought the Corvette.  It remains small.

Even though it's small, I am not compensating for it with possessions.  Mostly because having a little dick has not bothered me since High School.

What compensation I do make has had more to do with tongue and fingers than buying shit.

If I was compensating there'd be a list of why I bought what I bought with lots of non-dick related justifications and no admission that I have a below-average size sex organ.  Compensation doesn't work the way they think it does.

The "force" of the impugnment is I should feel threatened by people with normal or large sized penises and that my purchases are a sort of display that proclaims to all that, "my cock is the same size as everyone elses!"  The corollary is I am correct in feeling bad that I don't have a normal sized prick, like they do, but I am merely choosing the wrong means of feeling better about it.

What they are doing with the comparison is cock-shaming me.  Once again, something that would be considered vile and off-limits in another context is allowed because of guns.

If I were to infer that a woman bought something expensive to compensate for her small breasts, how do you think they'd react?  But it's OK to shame me over both my small penis and my preferences in cars?

Bravo you inconsistent idiots.  Wait, that's not right.  You're consistently idiots, it's you inconsistently apply your "logic" because you're idiots.

PS:  A free bit of psychology:  The people who are most insecure about something are often the fastest and loudest about finding that insecurity in others, whether it exists or not.  Compensating for their (often perceived) inadequacies by ridiculing others in the hopes that nobody notices they are as inadequate as they claim the other they are making fun of is.


  1. This sort of pop Freudianism irritates me, but it infuriated my mom. Her attitude was that she'd busted her a$$ for that Masters in child psychology (Yes, I know. The cobbler's children are always worst-shod, and the thatcher/roofer has the leakiest roof in the village.) and having assclowns pretending to expertise they didn't have, based on a misreading of Freud, enraged her. Not that that took much...she was, particularly after her head injury, the most even-tempered person I knew, as in always simmering mad.

    1. Well said, I think I'll suck a cock. Wait, it's just a cigar.

  2. And in the end, who fucking cares about the size of your crank? It's not like you're on the market, so people can cock-shop. It's not like you'll be inflicting a small wiener on some anti-gun dude (let's face it, the dick jokes are all done by dudes), and it's not like you're standing with your kilt over a steam grate so we can all see what god gave ya.

    Just the oddness of the whole thing gets me.

    1. Especially since there are so many other reasons to stand over that steam grating in your kilt!


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