Hey, it’s me “little Jonathan,” you know, your penis! Let’s chat.
I get it, it’s not easy having me around. I make it difficult at times to think about anything other than sex. I apologize, I guess you could say I’m just wired that way.
Thing is, we’re past puberty. We’re both adults now, and the time has come for us to grow up. There’s no excuse for your behavior. Yes, I’m referring to you taking pictures of me and sending them unsolicited to women. Not cool. That’s literally harassment. Frankly, I’m more than a vessel for entertainment and pleasure, and I’m tired of your attitude.
I get it, you’re sitting around thinking, Yeah, I’m one of the lucky ones. I have less than $10,000 left on my student loans, some say I’m handsome, and my dick is on point! Thing is, I AM MORE THAN JUST A PRETTY FACE.
Okay, look, maybe I am on point and I’ll take the compliment. It’s just that we can’t go around literally putting me into everyone’s face. Julia, who you met while shopping at Whole Foods, sure didn’t want to log in to Facebook and see me pop up in her messenger box, and lord knows Gretchen from pottery class was in no way interested in that private Twitter message where you blew up my spot.
Here’s the thing: if you want to show me to someone, you have to get consent. It’s a pretty simple concept, and yet somehow you fail to understand this, over and over.
I have other functions, too, you know. I’m your vessel to potentially having kids one day (although if you keep this up, I might get permanently damaged in some sort of justified punch in my face). I’m also here to evacuate your urine. You do know that without being able to pee, you can literally poison your body, right? RIGHT?
Again, if I get sucker punched, and probably deservedly so based on your pattern of behavior, I’m not gonna be able to do any more of that urinary cleanup duty. You will be poisoned to DEATH! And for what? Your hubris and ridiculously entitled behavior. JUST STOP!
This isn’t like the time you were thirteen and decided to sneak into Wedding Crashers and I was so so scared I literally shriveled into a tiny mess. Or when you and Kyle lied to your parents that you were staying the night at each other’s house so you could sneak out and joy ride Kyle’s dad’s Lexus. Or that time you drank fifteen Mike’s Hard Lemonades and tried to hook up with Tiffany. Remember what happened? I just stayed there flaccid.
I’m trying to make a point and you aren’t listening!
I’ve had it. The picture of me in your “cool” MeUndies boxer briefs that you just sent to eleven different women really pushed me over the edge.
Yeah, that’s right, I’m protesting until you stop this behavior. In fact, I’m gonna start making your life miserable. That night with Lisa, or Lissa, or Melissa or whatever, that was fun, right? Well guess what, mofo… it’s going to burn when you pee from here on out! Maybe a case of the clap will teach you to stop.
If that doesn’t do it, then you know what? I’m just gonna develop a GODDAMN BLOOD CLOT and it’s going to require some sort of procedure where getting an erection will be impossible. Lord help you if that doesn’t work, because I know a way to get gangrene. Not the noticeable, early treatment kind, the kind that requires us to GET A DIVORCE.
I trust you’ve gotten the point.
Next time I see my picture… you know what, there better not BE a next time! GROW UP! STOP HARASSING WOMEN!!