Search Results for: penis

While the lowest of the plebeian proletariat sits in its dank environs typing its fingers into nubs, the exalted ruling class sits in the lap of luxury on a beach in Florida tormented by the ceaseless wondering of why the hired help is being so slow to refill their Mai Tais. While we are forced to wear socks under our mittens as we chip ice off of our desks, because heat is too expensive in winter, our prestigious principals, those lofty lions of media, are forced to suffer through the heinous act of adjusting their own chaise lounges.

Yes, I need a satire font.

Nevertheless, things are what they are.

And, like all children left unattended, my first thought was to throw an office kegger and invite over some of those nice ladies with low morals. But that thought was quickly dismissed when it became apparent that said kegger would be an ice sculpture within an hour.

Add in the fact that “frost bite” and “funzies” should never be used in the same sentence, and you have a recipe for disaster.

My friend and former Playboy model, Debra Jo Fondren, thought it would a great day to write about kitties. More specifically, the Sunda Clouded Leopards which were recently discovered in China. Sure it might be fun to write about a new species of cat, but what do I say after “Hey look! It’s a new species of cat!”?

Yeah, that about covers it.

Then I thought I’d bookend my masterpiece about penis festivals around the world with its female equivalent. After all, fair is fair. But as it turns out, the only real excitement out there, after Amanda Palmer’s stunning look at her – ahem – map of Tasmania, is a rising cult of women who steam clean their vaginæ.

Not even I want to go down that particular road. Even so, I still feel a strong desire to party with Monica Garske.

Of course, as long as I’m writing about nothing, I guess we could take a minute to talk about a former television show about nothing. However, since said show featured a cast of characters whom I wanted to beat to death with a hammer – both individually and collectively, there’s not much there for me to write about.

On the other hand, I guess I could lead us all in a rousing chorus of If I Had a Hammer. But given the fact that we are a shocked nation looking for avenues of peaceful discourse, that seems a tad inappropriate.

Were I a smaller man, I could gloat over the fact that our leonine leaders will be forced to deal with thunder storms, rain and high waves today. In fact the weather will be so bad they’ll have to suffer through the indignity of drinking Mai Tais indoors.

But, like Whitman said, “I am large, I contain multitudes.” So I won’t do that.

I guess I could write about the baby Godzilla found in Riverside California. But “the cops found a lizard and the lizard was nice” is a pretty boring story.

Even by Californian standards.

In other words, there’s nothing for me to write about today. So I’ll just let you get back to whatever it is you’re doing and hope for better news tomorrow.

Today I’m in a professorial mode. I have my sweater, with the obligatory elbow patches, my pipe, with the obligatory cherry flavored tobacco, my teacher’s aide, with the obligatory need to get her grades up and my laptop, so that I can work unmolested by the masses. I have done all of this because I am going to take a scholarly look at an ancient, historical, ritual; penis worship. Even before 1877, when Hodder Westropp issued his famous treatise on the many ways cultures have bowed down before their favorite phallic icon, history has recognized the joys of fertility worship. Today, thanks to the Al Gore, people all over the world can become enlightened on the proper procedures for worshiping a whoopee stick.

In Japan the annual penis festival (pictured above) is a wonderful, family, event that involves parades, balloons and giant wooden penises for the young ladies to ride. Yeah, you have to click that link. I’ll wait ’til you get back.

You’re back? Good.

But, far from being some limited cult item, the one eyed wonder weasel has come into its own as a cultural icon. Pop culture commentators, B3TA, hold an annual awards ceremony for the best use of a phallus in a print or television commercial. Sadly, moral restraints prevent me from actually telling you how they describe this turgid honor.

Architectonics purists, Cabinet Makers, held a recent contest to find the most phallic building in the world. And, yes, Chicago’s very own Willis Tower was in the running. But, for reasons that escape me, the Hancock Center was not.

But Chicago is not just limited to priapistic architecture, far from it. We are the proud home of the world’s leading penile sculptress, Cynthia Plastercaster. Cynthia’s handiworks have been erected in museum exhibits the world over. In fact, her life story was made into an award winning movie by Xenon Films.

As you can readily see, right thinking people from all walks of life respect the penis.

All of which brings us to the, ahem, point of today’s blog.

All Weird News is reporting that the International Penis Museum, in Iceland, has finally gotten its first human specimen for display.

Sigurour Hjartarson will finally get to claim the penis promised to him by an Icelander 14 years ago. It will be the first! The donor of the penis, Pall Arason, passed away on January 5, 2010 and Hjartarson, the curator of Iceland’s Penis Museum, is now preparing to collect the museum’s first human specimen.

Hjartarson said while he does not know if the agreement – made 14 years ago – will be respected, he does not think there will be a problem, according to media reports.

The Icelandic Penis Museum has penises of every species of living thing that has a penis except for a human. Hjartarson told the local media he has long waited for a full human specimen.

Just in case the Arason deal doesn’t work out, the curator has three other donation pledges for a human specimen.

Hjartarson is founder and owner of the Icelandic Phallological Museum, which offers visitors from around the world a close-up look at the long and the short of the male reproductive organ.

His collection, which began in 1974 with a single bull’s penis that looked something like a riding crop, now boasts 261 preserved members from 90 species.

The largest, from a sperm whale, is 70 kg (154 lb) and 1.7 meters (5.58 ft) long. The smallest, a hamster penis bone, is just 2 mm and must be viewed through a magnifying glass.

A German, an American, an Icelander and a Briton had promised to donate their organs after death, according to certificates on display at the museum.

The American, 52-year-old Stan Underwood, supplied a written description of his penis — which he purportedly nick-named “Elmo” — for display alongside a life-size plastic mould of the member as well as his pledge to donate it.

The museum, originally opened in Reykjavik in 1997, has now moved to the quiet fishing village of Husavik, 480 km (298 miles) northeast of the capital.

Open from May to September, it is housed in a plain brown building, the entrance marked by a tall brown phallus near the door and a penis-shaped sign over the front porch.

A growing number of people from all over the world view the collection each year, 60 percent of them women.

The specimens, most of which were donated by fishermen, hunters and biologists, are kept in glass jars of formaldehyde or dried and mounted on the wall, creating an atmosphere that is part science lab, part trophy room.

Okay okay, go ahead with the Tickle Me Elmo jokes.

One thing about this story that peaked my interest was wondering how the donations were made? At what point are you out with some buddies, hunting an 8 point buck, when you ask “Does anyone have a knife? I know this dude in Iceland who’ll love this!”

On the other hand, at what point do you wake up and say “The heck with stamps, guess what I’m going to collect?”

Nevertheless, whatever the motivation, it’s heartening to know that this millennia old tradition continues to be accorded the respect it deserves.