Thursday, July 14, 2011
Is Losing Your Johnson a Fate Worse Than Death? (No homo)
I'm not really the squeamish type. There aren't too many stories that I have to actively avoid when I'm reading the Daily News with my breakfast. Mass genocide in a third world country? Pssh, pass the bacon. Horrific child death? Extremely sad but more butter for these pancakes please. But the one story that really turns my stomach more than any other (and I'm sure I'm not alone) are castration stories. This one from the other day is particularly gruesome. Stories like this beg the age-old question: Would you rather have your manhood Bobbitted or just die?
For me, the answer is simple. When presented with the choice to either be killed on the spot or having my frank and beans permanently removed, I have to choose the latter. This isn't to say I'd choose a weinerless life of misery, never to know the touch of a woman again, or having to piss through a catheter (ouch). I think in the future there will be scientific and medical advancements that will allow for prosthetic schlongs, be it through stem cells or perhaps preferably, the cocks of dead homeless people or John Does. Who wouldn't sign up for the chance at the donated member of a deceased drifter? This would also open up the doors for what we've been working towards all these years: (say it with me) Haunted penises. Yes, no one could blame you for the wrongs that you inflict with your jimmy, blame it on that dead hobo who was gracious enough to donate his junk against his will. Of course, the less gruesome and optimal method of male genital reincarnation would be through stem cells and cloning. With the recent strides made by the marriage equality movements, social conservatism seems to be losing the culture wars. Next up: super dongs. The progressive movement has always mostly been about finding ways to make the perfect dick. You may doubt this could ever happen but I say YES WE CAN create a cyborg like super dong. Like Robocop, the pecker will come back stronger than ever to avenge it's death (hopefully that creepy dad from That 70s show isn't involved though).
What do you think? Would you rather take a chance on whatever awaits you in the afterlife, or go about in a pathetic dickless existence hoping that scientists aren't working on curing cancer or AIDS and developing mutant cock and balls for jerks who were castrated? Death or castration, what would you choose?