I Love My Penis

I love my penis.

It is absolutely true. I love my penis. Nothing in my life, other than perhaps writing and my friends and my original Nintendo and my anus, has brought me more pleasure than that danglin' flesh tube swinging between my legs. Nothing in my life has brought me more drama than my penis, but you take the flaccid ugly with the hard love.

Penises, to the undiscerning, are often thought to lack the symmetrical beauty of the vagina. I have often heard the penis described as “ugly.” While I have seen more than one unfortunately malformed penis...ones that have curved so far to the left or right, up or down, that they should have had one of those bright orange signs with the squiggly road on it to warn me before the owner dropped his pants...the truth is...I find most dicks to be beautiful.

Fat ones, kinda fat ones, big ones, average sized ones, veiny, smooth, big head, small head, baseball bats to maglites...I love 'em, I love 'em, I love 'em.

Now, to be fair, I believe way too much importance is attached to the penis. True, it is a magnificent source of pleasure, and, it looks mighty fine packed into the pouch of a jock strap or a hot pair of boxer briefs where you can just make out the cock outline...but...in the end...it is a piece of meat.

Unfortunately, in this world of ours the fact that I have a penis can, and often does, mean I will get more of just about everything than a woman (even adjusting for race and faggotry), with a perfectly lovely vagina, and a PhD will ever have. I will make more money in my life than most women...because of my penis I will, in many circumstances, garner more attention than the penis-less of the world (except some of my so damn hot trans men friends that have penises that are sometimes kept at home). I will have better access to housing, health care, and basic human respect because of my penis.

And thank God I was given an amply sized penis cuz that is just...well...icing on the dick cake of life.

I love my penis, but I don't love what is necessary to maintain the privilege of having a penis. I don't enjoy watching women beaten, unpaid, paid too little, not paid enough, underpaid, over worked, pimped out, beaten down, overlooked, beaten, raped, ignored, sold, and killed as ways to maintain the power and privilege of the penis. I don't like seeing the fear in the eyes of the 75% of women that have or will suffer some form of sexual violence in their life. As a survivor of rape, I understand just how scary the penis can be.

The penis is a beautiful thing. But it's beauty is not found in the power that it gives me. It's beauty is about the opportunity it gives me to connect with myself and with my fellow man (men....as many men as possible). It is a beautiful tool that allows me to use the privilege that I have been accorded, wrongfully, to open doors, windows, and smash glass ceilings hand in hand with my sisters (biological and otherwise) in this grand world of ours. And not to leave my intersexed family out...I use my dick privilege to help redefine gender so that it is deep, wide, long, hard, soft, round, smooth, and veiny enough for all of its incarnations and manifestations.

I love my penis. But I love a world where love, opportunity, peace, and safety are freely and justly given and not reserved to those that get to pee standing up.

Rookies vrs. Renegade

Another week has gone by, which means more softball shennanigans. For the previous two weeks, we played at Red Hook fields in Brooklyn...just past the Ikea. This week, we were at new fields on Randall's Island. For those of you kiddies that have not lived or spent oodles of time in New York, there are several islands in between Manhattan and the outer boroughs.Most folks know of Roosevelt Island...but...much to my suprise...there are three or four other islands out there.

Today we happened to be playing on Randall's Island...which...is largely covered by sports fields, a soccer arena, Cirque du Soleil, and a giant mental hospital. Fun!It's nice to know that if anyone on the team has a break with reality during a game on Randall's Island, help is just a bus stop away.

...David and I managed to get slightly lost on the way to the fields today. The fields were tucked away on one end of the island between a tributary to the East River and under the Triboro bridge (more or less). But, thanks to quick action by the team, Josh found David and I walking under a bridge and drove us to the field.

So, to summarize our games today...we got lightly spanked the first game. The second game we got our asses cut off, deep fried, sprinkled in powdered sugar, and handed back to us with a nice honey glaze.
Here's what happened.

So, to begin with, I pitched 14 innings today. I am proud to say that not only did I walk only 3 people (should have been a couple more...but the Renegades were swinging at some crappy stuff...but I thank them for their generosity). I also managed to strike out the pitcher from the other team. I often target the pitcher from the opposing team, as I feel that I should have a rivalry with that person. If this were 1765, I would have walked up to him, slapped him with my glove, and then had a duel with sabers. But, since running the opposin' teams pitcher through the heart is illegal in the state of New York, I was satisfied with when I struck him out. Of course, I walked the next batter up at bat...but we are going to focus on the positive.

I also managed to whack the ball well one time, which earned us two runs...and...at one point...I was supposed to run from 2nd to 3rd...got halfway to 3rd...turned around and ran back to 2nd...only to see Dan comin' into 2nd...at which point I ran back to 3rd...which totally freaked out the 3rd baseman from the Renegades, who was so discombobulated that he tossed the ball to 2nd...Dan was safe, I made it to 3rd, and I ultimately scored. Talk about dumb ass luck.

Of course, Her Softball Majesty, Mason Regina, First of her Name, pulled the play of the day when he caught the ball while falling down...and ended up on his rear (which we all saw later on as he was changing his pants...and...from the rest of us to you...NICE BUTTOCKS!).

Vinny did some great outfield magic, and, of course Noahngelina and "Dan not David" also pulled some magic out of their hats for us. I won't mention out loud the fact that in the first inning of the second game the Renegades went through their line up two and a half times before we got our first at bat...as if I mentioned that in my blog Reggie threatened to do unnatural things to me.

The real highlight of the day came when Mr. Big Daddy Hot Crotch came marching up the road behind our field. Our entire dugout got whiplash checking the man out. He was well over six foot, had broad shoulders, a neatly trimmed beard, a bubble butt, and he walked like he had a big thick juicy veiny 11" penis. I heard the anal lips of half the team smacking and clapping through their shorts.

David was the only softball spouse with us today, but he was faithful again...making sure the Icy Hot and snacks were at the ready. And he is responsible for the fabulous pictures on this blog.
I will end this posting by saying that Mason told me that I did a good job today, which is like the Pope telling you that you are a good Catholic. Thanks Mason ;-). Until next week!