I am no stranger to men’s anatomy. *oh, really? and we thought you ended up with three boys by immaculate reception after three hail marys…* I grew up with a brother, not quite two years younger than myself, and along with our younger sister, had to sit in three inches of tepid bath water each night until I was about seven. If you knew my mother, you’d understand the time-saving, environmental, and financial sagacity of this particular routine.
To further expound on my familiarity with those meaty appendages found on the nether regions of men, I’ve been nearly the sole female in my home, not counting dogs and cats, snakes or guinea pigs, for more years than I need to count on a Friday morning.
Factor in that I have taught Sex Education to adolescents once a year for nearly ten years, and can position the diagram of a penis on an overhead projector in a room full of boys and girls faster than you can say “Voila!” ignore their snickers, snorts, and audible ughs of despair with the expressionless face of authority?
As I said, I get it.
But could someone please tell me what “penis pills” are? Although I’ve been quite efficient with the on-going spam I’ve been getting lately regarding male anatomy, this one has me flummoxed. Usually I’m more than cautious about noting that I do not know anyone named Caroline Messer, or Juanita Woodruff even though they are attempting to familiarize themselves with me. And at this point, I’m not sure I’d like to know either of these “females” because one email indicates that “she” may have a few anatomical appendages that I lack. I wouldn’t quite know how to break the news to her that if I took her advice and “whipped out [my] improved, giant [wonder],” not only would my friends be less than “charmed,” the MoH would pass out knowing I had way too much time on my hands…
It’s easy to delete this nonsense, and have a few chuckles about the spambots that send it out. How sad that the pathetic machines can’t get women from men sorted out, and just click and whir along each day, happily sending emails. Hasn’t anyone in SpamLand Inc. gotten the memo that Friday is an Email-Free Day? It’s so unfortunate that they can’t even get my name correct, leaving me to pity the addressee, “Fabianiwamba,” and am left to puzzle over what his mother was thinking when she named him — er — his appendage, perhaps?
But penis pills?
I know. I should have been able to figure this out, because clearly, everyone else has, and quite some time ago. Whatever. Perhaps I’ve led a much more sheltered existence than I may have thought. Um…and do they work? Sorry, insatiable curiosity.
But there’s good news. This morning, I read that the condom industry will no longer have to deal with complaints about their product being “one size fits all.”
Fascinating, isn’t it?
If this doesn’t mean there should be national cause for celebration, I don’t know what does.
Perhaps “The Science of Knots Unraveled?”
I could have written about that instead, but I’m not an expert on knots… 
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