“I Don’t Want To See Your Junk”


For All But The First 3-1/2 Years Of My Life …   

And, Not Once In The Ensuing Decades – Through Accelerated Puberty, Compliant Adolescent Self-Evaluation (?), Coming-Of-Age Shenanigans, RealManDumbness – Have I Ever Cared To See Another Dude’s Toolbox. 

“What He’s Packing?  Nah, Thank You.  I’m Good, Bro.”

… Curious?  Fuck, No.  I Know What Your Shit Looks Like Without Taking A Peaky-Boo-Boo Over The Urinal, Dougie.  



I Can’t Even Look At A Pencil For Too Long Without Get Squeamish …  

And, Forget Sharpies.  Kryptonite, Baby.  Ditto, Zucchini. 

You Should Know I Haven’t Eaten A Bah-Nahn-Er In Almost 40 Years.  Google It:

“Neurotic Man-Child Claims He Hasn’t Eaten A Banana … Since Duran Duran Charted ‘Hungry Like A Wolf’ In 1982.”



Un-See-Able, Right?  You Can Thank Me – Or Shank Me – In The Comments Section.

Applauso, Ragazzo.  Credit Goes To Shutterbug75 From Pixabay 

“Let’s Leave Fruit Out Of The Phallic Symbology Study.  Now, What Would Professor Robert Langdon (Da Vinci Code) Say About That To His Harvard Art History Students?  And, Kids, Can We Also Stop Giggling At Eggplant Emoji’s?  Really, Courgettes Are Where It’s At.”

Mimetic Imagery.  Frozen Popsicles.  So, 2012.

26 thoughts on ““I Don’t Want To See Your Junk”

    • Michael A. Kuch

      I found another collection of white asparagus, but decided against using it. Serious question: in your career, have you ever encountered a patient being treated for phallophobia? I didn’t know it was a real phobia until reading briefly about it this morning.

      Liked by 1 person

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