You guys, I had a whole other post written up. I was all set to tell you about awesome stuff on the Internet and my cool new nails and then somebody.
Somebody sent me a penis.
In theory, I like penises! Penusi? What is the plural of penis, when it regards the receiving of multiple peni into one’s Snapchat inbox?
Not that I’m an expert — I’m ashamed to admit. Or perhaps, relieved? This is probably my second or third random photograph of a penis sent to me by a stranger who added me on Snapchat, lingered for hours, then sent me a photograph of a penis.
And not even, like, a good penis. I think it’s widely known that I can appreciate a good penis when I see one. Part of my disgust is that these photographs are so poorly lit, and taken from such odd angles that it is necessary to peer through squinted eyelids, turn my phone sideways, bring the screen up close to my face and — Yep, that’s a penis. I should’ve suspected as much.
But of course, the primary objection to receiving a photograph of a stranger’s penis without warning, without notice, is that is cums (sorry) comes out of left field. It just grates my Parmesan to think that here I am, imagining my audience reading my words and finding some truth. My fans, chuckling at my jokes and relating #hardcore to my personal struggles. I’m putting myself out there with my writing and my humor and you, penis-sender, see this. You have found me on the Internet, maybe you have even read my tweets or watched my snaps, and the only thing you can think to do in response, is pull your penis out and send me a picture of it.
I get it. A penis is a body part. So is a vulva. And they’re no more or less a vital component of one’s corporeal essence as, say, a knee. Or an armpit. I wouldn’t be making this argument if I made a hobby out of randomly friending people on social media and filling up their DMs with grainy close-ups of my collarbone, or my earlobe, or looking up inside my nose. Honestly, sending a photo without a message is just creepy anyway, especially when it’s a disembodied, close-up of a part of your body shot from an odd angle. Then I just feel like I’m playing CSI: Unit Unit. “Is that a thumb over the lens?” “Zoom in, let’s look for more clues…”
I guess what I really want to know is why, but I think I already know the answer. It’s because you’re just trying to make a little human connection in this crazy world! Well, isn’t that why I write my blogs? To expose a part of me that most people don’t see in everyday life to strangers over the Internet? Aren’t we all, as bloggers, whipping it out and hoping our readers don’t “ugh!” in disgust and block us forever?
I’m sorry I blocked and reported you on Snapchat, Random Dick Man, because I know you’re sad and lonely. But that’s still no excuse to shove it in my face.