Take My Penis Enlarger, Please

The first thing you probably want to know is, Hey, Julieanne, why do you have a penis enlarger? Well, I have a question for you: why do you NOT have a penis enlarger?

Feb 21, 2012 at 10:00am | Leave a comment

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Believe it or not, there once was a time when there was no XOJane, and I worked for another web site. It was a simpler time, when the word "swag" exclusively referred to free things, loopy frosting ribbons on cake, or detailing on that yellow dress Belle wore when she danced with the Beast. Which was a mean thing to call him in song, to his face, now that I think about it.

The Women's Web Site where I was an editor for a year and a half shut down about a year ago, before being renamed, repurposed, and ultimately subsumed by a nice Greek lady with very soft hands.

When I left that office, I absconded with several banker's boxes full of Original Definition "swag" that I'd acquired over my time there -- mostly shampoo and books and the last-picked-for-kickball alcohols that nobody chose from my "free pile" (surely somebody will pick Midori! No? Poor Midori.).

It wasn't until I unpacked the last of these boxes last month or so (what? I was using two of them as a nightstand/burglar trap) that I found the penis enlarger.

The first thing you probably want to know is, Hey, Julieanne, why do you have a penis enlarger? Well, I have a question for you: why do you NOT have a penis enlarger?

Specifically, this one. I do not want it.

Here's what it's doing in my temporary care. From time to time, at my old site, a company would send me an ADULT PRODUCT to try out, although it wasn't really that kind of blog and I'm more of a "A strap on? For your head? Ha ha, you crazy kids!" kind of sex-toy writer.

I'm not saying I'm not proud of being the first Google result for "pussy pump" (definitely the highlight of my LinkedIn profile), or that I didn't have fun placing a vibrator that syncs with an iPod next to an obese cat and playing "Black Suits Comin' / Nod Ya Head (The Theme Song From Men in Black II)."

On occasion, some of this stuff was "for gentlemen."

On one such occasion, I got an inquiry from a company we'll call, oh, I don't know, Weyland-Yutani. Weyland-Yutani guaranteed that their "enhancement system," properly used, would give anybody a couple extra inches of penis, and who wouldn't want that? (Answer: my friend "E." I don't even want to talk about the Umbro viper that poor guy has to haul around every day like a grotesque bandolier of secondary sex characteristic. He wears a backpack full of free weights most days, just to maintain equilibrium.)

I was unsure why they sent the pitch to me, an ostensibly female women's web site editor. Maybe, I thought, since I'm starting with zero inches of penis, I make for a pretty interesting "control."

But no, the Weyland-Yutani people were suggesting that I "road test" it on my "boyfriend." (Even though I'm pretty sure that, while legal to put this thing on your own penis, administering it to somebody else is outlawed under the Geneva Convention. Penis enlarger? More like penis indanger! READ ON.)
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The problem with the "Try it on your guy!" line that these publicists love including in pitches is that the Smolinski General Store doesn't usually stock and trade in Man. I mean, I'm like 80% Not Gay (At least while Gillian Anderson's around. Right ladies? What are we, made of stone?), but I rarely find myself in a mohoganist (sp?) relationship. I can't tell you how fun it is to reply to publicists about how I was unable to test Lifestyles' new "You'll Love it When Your Peehole Burns a Little, Just Trust Us" Sensationz condom or whatever they're infusing Trojans with to make the married, ethnically homogenous couples in their ads have foghorn orgasms.

"Dear Durex, thank you for sending over samples of the new 'Arctic Explosions' collection. It's been so long since I've seen a naked man that when I do, Saint-Saëns' 'Aquarium' will probably start playing and I'll grope at him with blind, stiff hands, whispering, 'What... is this place?' In the mean time, I will look forward to watching your condoms crinkle and age in my handbag and make appearances whenever I pull out my wallet too quickly in front of a hot barista. XO Julieanne."

I told the nice people at Weyland-Yutani that I am single and they suggested that maybe I have a guy friend I could ask to test their product.

Well, that cheered me right up. Because Weyland-Yutani was right. I may not have a boyfriend whose penis I find unsatisfactory, but at least I have a great guy friends I can conscript into putting their penises in scary penis traps. Wilhelm scream!

So I mass-emailed some pals to see who was interested in imperiling their general dick health for the sake of my web site (don't worry -- everybody was BCC'd. I'm not a monster).

One (married) buddy of whose penis I had no foreknowledge seemed game. Weyland-Yutani sent over a big mailer with not one but TWO penis enlargers. I made the drop to my pal at an ice cream parlor, and played "the waiting game."

After a while, I started getting emails from the Weyland-Yutani people, like, "Hey, girl! Just checking in on you. Seen 'Avatar' yet? Also, how are all your married friends' penises?" and I would write back like, "How did you get this number?" and they'd be like, "This is an email" and it got very Norton Juster.

Eventually, I casually asked my friend just what was ON that informational DVD included in the Weyland-Yutani kit, and ascertained that the "system" basically involves dressing up your penis like one of those guys from "Murderball" and attaching a series of gradiated weights to it help! why? what? no!

I'd been prepared to nag him about abandoning his mission, but this is the kind of stuff you let friends take a bye on (stuff like hurting their genitals for you). Also did I mention you're supposed to sleep in it? I mean, my sister grinds her teeth and won't wear her molar guard because she says it's uncomfortable.

As we've discussed before in this safe, safe space, I will freely admit that few of my female friends look for "small enough to want correction" as, you know, a penis general attribute.

But guys also tend to favor girls with great laughs, and I would never risk putting my tender sensitive laughter tissue into that thing from "SAW." If I were composing a list of "things to not place your penis in," it would go: science fair baking soda volcano, Ted Nugent's favorite teen niece, rusty bear trap sprayed with champagne vinegar and bird flu, Weyland-Yutani. But hey, I mean, the DVD is subtitled "Penis Traction: Explained" so maybe if you're just curious about penis tra--- HRRRRRRRRRRRRRRk sorry, I just fear-vomited like someone who ate a huge meal right before their state execution.

But, look. Like I keep telling people, I do not have a penis. So I can't tell you that all the potential ballasting (yikes!) and stretchery (owwwww!) actually feels as bad as it looks. It might not! It might not hurt to have your most delicate parts pulled on like church bells by a tiny unseen hunchback. Life is full of surprises.

What I can tell you is that this thing looks like some serious, Eli Roth's "PENIS" (2011) shit. This looks like some violent crime in your south central, gentlemen! This looks like something that begs for a companion DVD about getting over your silly fear of penis traction. The Weyland-Yutani web site FAQ contains the frequently asked question, "Is it safe?" But what I think they meant to write was, "Is it safe? Is it safe? Is it safe?"

So please. Help me divest my home of this HR Geiger urological night-terror.

Because I can't throw it away. It's expensive, for one thing, and for another, I don't know how to sort it, recycling wise.

So, attention, intrepid small-donged masochists or the women who love them. I'm going to pull a Jumanji here and offer you guys the chance to experience this thing for yourselves. If nobody claims it, I will be forced to leave it in a public park so that other stupid children may find it and potentially also be eaten by lions (metaphorically). So as not to make it look suspicious, I'm going to write PENIS ENLARGER! on it in sharpie.

Interested parties are invited to email me for a crack at it or just wander around Central Park looking for abandoned boxes. I sincerely look forward to hearing from you. And for the last time, I don't have a schlong.