I talked with my cousin Nancy from Memphis a little while ago. She was telling me how the University of Memphis campus has changed since we were at school there.
“The clearest memory I have of the campus and buildings is the parking lot on the way to Central Towers,” I said.
“How come?” she asked.
“Because that was the place I saw that guy squatted down between two parked cars man-handling himself. That thing was so long it would have scared a horse.”
“I think I saw that same guy. Did he have red hair?”
“I don’t know, all I saw was about 17 inches of man-flesh bobbing up and down.”
“The guy I saw was behind a bush just goin’ at it with that man root.”
“Man root?” I laughed.
“You’ve never heard it called ‘man root’?”
“Never have, but that’s what I’m going to call it from now on.”
“Well,” Nancy said, “you talk about long. When I went to spend some time with my dad in Trinidad one summer while he was in Naval Intelligence, he set me up to stay with this young couple who had a house. The husband worked with him. Anyway, this guy’s wife was this sweet little thing, innocent and really pretty. I liked her a lot, but he was a creep.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. His man root was so big you could see the mass of it in his shorts, like he had some kind of creature in there. It rolled around when he walked. Sometimes the tip would poke out the end of his shorts. I’m not kidding, it was like nothing you’ve ever seen.”
I don’t know why, but talking about this part of a man makes me laugh hysterically. Listening to her story, I was nearly bent over double.
“One time we were all sitting in the living room, and his wife was in a chair where she had to twist her head away to see the TV. He took that thing out and was rolling it around in his lap, like he was stroking a pet. It was as big as one of those things kids float around on in a pool – one of those noodles. I could see him out of the corner of my eye. He was unbelievable. Biggest thing I’ve ever seen. Like something that should be in Ripley’s Believe It or Not.”
“What did you do?”
“I couldn’t tell my dad because he would have killed him. And I really liked his wife, so I didn’t want to make trouble. I was in high school and didn’t know what to do. Luckily I had a girlfriend there and asked if I could stay with her and her family, so I switched places with my dad’s blessing and he never found out.”
We laughed some more about unbelievable sizes and getting out of crazy situations. What’s so odd is that just about every woman I know has a story similar to this. Let me go on record right now, and I think I speak for most women, that those things are not, generally speaking, an appealing sight to women. Even Tarzan had enough sense to wear a loincloth. Men, please keep those things under lock and key. And I don’t care what you might think, bigger is not better. I would run like I was being chased by a swarm of yellow jackets if something like that tried to cozy up to me. Oooo, gives me the heebie jeebies just thinking about it.
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