Why Men Name Their Dicks!

Fellow Gatherers, today I’m going to reveal to each and every one of you one of the great, yet seldom mentioned mysteries of our time. One of those things that y’all know is out there, but seldom if ever gets talked about. Yes, fellow Gatherers, today we’re gonna talk about why most guys of the male persuasion have pet names for their own dicks.

We really do, you know. And if y’all think about it, it makes perfect sense. Most of us guys, over time, are accused of being dicks, or of being dickless, or of even thinking with our dicks, whatever the case may be. And if y’all wanna just tell it like it is, we really do! Hey, I can remember back years ago as I was getting out of the shower one morning, I happened to note that my one-armed trouser monkey was standing at full attention. In fact, it was standing at such attention that it reminded me of a geographical guide to the North Star. Anyway, I looked down at it, it gave a one-eyed look back up at me, and I swear to God in my mind that I heard it say,

“Ed, c’mon, let me take a dive into Lake Blonde tonight!”

I responded back, something along the lines of,

“Fred, you know she’s as crazy as a ringnecked loon!”

“Crazy or not, have you noticed her bazongas? And how she smells? And how she walks like she always needs to take a pee? Let me tell you, she wants me to do a love dive off the springboard right into her Lake Poonie! We’re suiting up for it tonight, aren’t we?”

“Fred, let’s be realistic. She’s got the IQ of a case of diaper rash, and her voice would be enough to take us all back to silent movies.”

“Ed, face it. As soon as she leans forward in your car tonight, and you see that Grand Canyon depth-level line betwixt her boobalas, you’re going to let me out of my pants prison here and let me do some love regurgitation – admit it!”

Bad thing was, he was right that particular time. And a few others to boot. And, I’ll bet that beyond the nodding that many of you ladies out there are doin’ right now, the very next thing y’all are thinking about is the fact that I actually do have a name for my dick. Well of course I do, and I think it makes all the sense in the world. I happen to call my dick “Fred,” for both comedic and practical reasons. When I’m in a really good mood and he wants to make his way out of his pants-ly cave, I refer him as, “Fred, Fred, the Peckerhead!” When I’m thinking of things in a more normal type way, he becomes Fred Lamar Williams, III, the kinship between he and I being obvious. We’re both part of the same person, we do both communicate with our body through our heads, and it just makes all the sense in the world to have our names be as close as possible to the same thing.

Now, if there are any ladies out there who think I’m exaggerating or making this up, I can quickly prove to y’all that I’m not. The way I can do so is through a very simple test. If y’all haven’t already given your significant other’s dick an affectionate (or lack thereof) name, then just walk up to them and ask this question,

“Honey, I read this really wild article and I was just wondering, have you given your dick/pink crusader/massive man sausage/trembling trouser trout a name? And if you have, why haven’t you ever told me about it? And who gave it that name in the first place, you or someone else?”

I promise y’all, if they have that “deer in the headlights” look and start stammering, then you’ll have all the proof you’ll ever need. They, like me and most other guys, have given their tallywhackers a name, an identity, and a purpose. And they’ve also just helped me prove the premise of my entire article, so please thank them profusely for me if y’all would.

Now, would anyone care to share a few trouser tube monikers with the rest of us? We’re all waiting……..