It began with a charming correspondence I maintained with Aggro Littleton at DearBlogger.com, who believes that identifying the size of my penis as “pequeño” is a protected form of free speech. It continued with several emails to Holly Lisle, who slandered me further by suggesting that I might be a slattern (there is only one definition of the word!), but who would not allow me to send her a full-scale JPEG of the penis in question (along with three notarized statements from former lovers attesting to the size).
I know there are differing reports about my anatomical dimensions, but this is getting ridiculous! The lies, damned lies, and assorted hysteria directly caused me to ply into a bottle of Stoli last night. It is Littleton and Lisle’s respective charges that are not only slanderous, but have caused me considerable emotional and physical distress. (Physical distress indeed! I was, for example, unable to jerk off last night, because I was still stewing over every sentence, every word, and even the comma placement contained within Littleton’s wholly lost and unfounded charges.)
Now I’m wondering whether or not I even have a penis. And I won’t know for sure until I take a shower. And even then, can I truly count upon my own perception? But I must! For I am right, and nobody else can correct me! I have nothing to learn from disagreement. Thus, the appropriate measures have been taken.
Rest assured, I have contacted lawyers. I will be filing at least five lawsuits this morning. And if this isn’t enough, I will file five more tomorrow. My legal team will be taking a shower with me this morning, to determine if, in fact, the penis allegations are true. We will have very precise diagrams, blown-up as exhibits, that we will bring with us to court.
My lawyers will shut down every blog that deals even remotely with books. And they will do this on Christmas Day. Justice must be exacted for charges, real or imagined. And if it inconveniences bloggers as they attempt to celebrate the holidays, then these bloggers SHOULD HAVE KNOWN WHAT THEY WERE GETTING INTO IN THE FIRST PLACE!
I will fight, fight, fight, and then fight again. I’ll take this to the Supreme Court if I have to! I’m a blogger, dammit. And if this means point-by-point rebuttals of pedantic arguments, posted publicly and then further commented upon by readers, who will then take sides and waste additional time, then I accept the absurdities of a cruel universe.
“And I won’t know for sure until I take a shower.”
Can the world really wait that long for an answer, though?
Sorry, dude, you walked right into that one.
All writers have small dicks. That’s not really a secret. And, no, Hemingway’s cock wasn’t gargantuan. He had a tiny penis and was gay. All women writers are flat (the good ones).
DearBlogger.com says it’s “under construction”. Is that the correct address?
This question has nothing to do with the size of your penis, which I am choosing to believe is ample.
The penis size accusation is juvenile, and should be reserved only when referring to men with large redneck trucks.
Just tell them only your gynecologist knows for sure.
Then snicker as they try to wrap their head around that one.