.45 Caliber Headspace

I know this is nothing revelatory, but I’m really getting burned out on spam for penis enlargement products. It’s a relentless assault on my attention for something I don’t need. “Would you like to buy a third nipple? No? You should really consider a third nipple. Do you want a third nipple yet? I think you’re underestimating the value of a third nipple. Give it a minute—I’ll be back. How ’bout that third nipple? You’d be amazed what a third nipple can do for you.” See what I mean? I don’t need a damn third nipple, or not metaphorically, a millimeter more reach on my Eiffel Tower—as I call it, being the place where lovers meet.

Is this millimeter really going to make all the difference? Could it be that I’m just a millimeter away from pleasure I could only have imagined before? “This is the Promised Land, buddy. Buy your ticket now or forever be just a millimeter shy of true joy.” Oh, this millimeter! If I could only have this millimeter, all my dreams would come true. I would defecate currency in large denominations. I would rule a kingdom. “He is the greatest leader, for he has the millimeter!” Only testicle pulsing specimens of the female form would surround me at all times, and they would fix my cocktails and sing my praises while dancing in a celebration of the greatness that is I and my millimeter. “Could you ever be so humble as to bestow on us…we millimeter deficient hordes of the finest work of our Creator…could you ever be willing to grace us with your millimeter?” All in turn, my divine admirers, with some in pair or more! You shall all bathe in the rich, purifying waters of my millimeter.

Why do we, as men, have to be so singly defined by our depth reaching fortitude, or lack thereof? There is so much more to a man, like barbecue and consumer electronics equipment. I, for one, would like to be targeted for more dignified forms of self-improvement, like literature (irony noted). “Be more of a man with some Hemingway!” Now that’s a third nipple I could use.