This is my Penis, There are Many Like it, but it is My Own…Bitch

I like theatre, I’m also pretty ignorant which is why I try to avoid the show “The Vagina Monologues.” Theres a good chance that I’d probably get kicked out of that fish market for doing something like referring to it as a fish market. However I had the privilege this weekend of going to an after party of the performance. I didn’t go to the show, instead I got pretty drunk at the bars then decided to show up to the get together with a friend. We of course had to get drinks for the party first. Our choice? 40’s of King Cobra, because nothing screams “I’m a progressive male that won’t rape you” like a 40 of malt liquor.

Going to this party would prove to be a chore though. Our friends were hosting the party and I didn’t want to get them in too much trouble from my ignorance, so other than drinking to the point of vomiting, and making one poor comment about a girls shirt (I’ll get to that) I feel like I was pretty tame by my standards. I didn’t bring up my problems with “The Vagina Monologues” at the party, so I guess I’ll do it passive aggressively through this blog.

I think the show is well written, and am all for women’s empowerment, but I am always angry at any double standard in society. I know all the double standards that handicap the broads. I’ve taken enough sociology classes to be tricked into feeling guilty for being a white male. The thing they never teach you though is the double standard given to men and women when it comes to talking about their genitals.

“The Vagina Monologues” proves that if a woman talks about her snatch for two hours, its art. If I talk about my dong for two hours then I’m crude and selfish (probably pretty funny too, and most likely compensating). Why do our universities and institutions not teach us about this great injustice? To misquote Eve Ensler, I’m worried about penises…That salad there, thats a penis salad…alright enough quotes from the play removing the word vagina and replacing it with penis.

The two inventors of the "I ❤ My Clit" T-Shirt

How am I to come away from a play like “The Vagina Monologues” thinking I learned something when I know that as a man I cannot make the same proclamation about my genitals? I can’t. Whenever I see or hear about this play I weep for my wang because he cannot have the same sort of exposure and be praised for it. In fact whenever I give my penis any kind of exposure I am labeled a pervert. I say no more!

This brings me back to the girl’s shirt that I made a supposedly poor comment about. Her shirt read “I heart my clit.” I told her “Hey I like your clit too.” Apparently I can’t talk about her clit even when its being advertised on a t-shirt. She should feel privileged that she can even talk about her clit and that other people want to talk about it too. I was robbed of the male version of the clit when I was a baby, I didn’t get to know my foreskin but I’m sure she is well acquainted with her clit. What if I wore a t-shirt that said “I heart my penis” to parties? Would I be a progressive theatre student who dabbled in modern performance and knows Eve Ensler’s work throughly? No, I’d be a pervert.

Well jokes on you enemies of men’s suffrage. The XY’s around the world unite everyday to fight this injustice and to them I salute. Everyday men meet in their homes, bars, schools, YMCA’s, rest stops  etc. and talk about their penises and someday we shall overcome! No longer should men only talk about their penises in the company of other men. Men of America whose hearts bleed for acceptance, talk about your penis! Brethren of the baby’s arm in a boxing glove, talk about your penis! Wielders of the blood encouraged mayonnaise cannons, talk about your penis! Keepers of the fallopian fiddlers, talk about your penis! I dream that one day my children can live in a  world where regardless of race, creed, gender or religious affiliation all can talk about their genitals openly and freely!

 

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