Archive for May 1, 2006

An Ode To The Above-Average Member or, Why I Date Losers

I guess the old adage is true – once you go Magnum….you pretty much can’t settle for less. I know, I know, that wasn’t rhyming or funny or witty but, whatever, that’s how real it is. I’ve discussed this with enough women to know that once you’ve slept with a Magnum, it’s a difficult process to go back to, well, non-Magnums i.e. the average-sized man.

And I hate admitting it, because, contrary to popular belief, most women don’t want some 13-inch stud. Most of us would like our cervixes to be intact. Magnums don’t necessarily have 13 inches on ’em; rather, they have something called Girth and Girth, my friends, is the most important quality a man’s penis can have at any length. When a guy doesn’t have girth, sex can feel, sorry to be graphic here, like something just worming away down there that you just want to stop the whole process altogether.

While guys of average size can have girth (I remember when I was in high school, and very much a virgin, reading some blurb in a glossy that said the best penis size would actually be 3 inches wide, but the size of a doorknob. I remember thinking about it for a minute and actually agreeing…think about it, ladies), with Magnums, the girth + length = OH MY %&*^* GOD! I don’t like to exaggerate but seriously.

The best part is that these Magnums are nothing but humble. You will not find a Magnum who acts like he’s a Magnum. You usually won’t find out he’s a Magnum until the very moment the condom appears. My first time with a Magnum, I, like most women, had the “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me” reaction i.e. oh no, not another guy who thinks he’s all that and will get me pregnant or give me herpes because the shit will fall off. Then he just gives a little bashful, adorable grin, the lady sees the reason and just sighs, knowing she’s in for trouble because she’s just fallen in love.

Magnums are always the quiet ones, the ones who sat in the back of the class not saying much but enough for you to know he’s no fool. He’s the one in the group of loud guys who just grins at obnoxious jokes and sips his beer. He’s always the friend of the guy you’re seeing who tips his head and you can’t help but wonder if you’re dating the wrong guy. He’s the guy who takes control of you in bed but listens in conversation. He’s the who guy you can tell has a titillating,thrilling secret.

So here’s to you, my larger-than-lifers……

…….and this is also why I dated the biggest loser of all time…well all my time so far since I’m sure this isn’t the last.

See, as I said above, going Magnum is difficult unless you’re absolutely sure you’re going to marry this man. Because, of course, there’s always the chance you won’t stay with this man and, thus, lose the Magnum moments.

Well, sadly, that’s what happened with a guy I was seeing (note: we’re still friends, you never cut off contact with a Magnum, ever). I’d like to say that’s why I started seeing and, sadly, sleeping with Barely Average. Barely Average, ladies as you well know, is just that. Enough to get you off, but unfortunately, more likely to remind you of what you’re missing. About 2 more inches in diameter and in length to be exact.

Barely Averages are your first boyfriend in high school or college. He’s the one in the group of friends making the loudest jokes. He’s the one who’s the most argumentative (compensating, anyone?). He’s the one who’s been patiently then urgently waiting for that extra inch only to live with an eternal disappointment. He’s the one whose insecurity is weighing on his shoulders so much he has to be the best at everything, even though he’s actually…average. Worse, it’s the Barely Averages who tend to be the proudest, the loudest, and, in this case, the most trifling.

The first time we had sex, he made a comment that was so out of left field, so not worthy of his member that I thought perhaps he was being ironic. Now I know we can’t be held too responsible for what we say in bed but don’t ever ever ever refer to yourself in ways that your partner could find debatable. Suffice it to say, I was asked if I was “ready” for his Barely Average member and, folks, let’s just say I remained ready all night. I guess it could have been worse, he could have called it something He-Man-ish like, say, “The Pulverizer” or told me the sex was going to be “Hot Like Fire.” See, if Barely Averages don’t say anything, then we ladies will get what we get and make the most of it and, many times, it can be a lot of fun. But when Barely Averages (and they are more often than not, wont to do this) raise expectations, well we ladies are left with disappointment. Once I got what I was supposed to be ready for, I had the horrid thinking-during-sex revelation, “Hmmm, I’ve had better.” No woman wants that moment – it’s a terrible moment where you have to get all the thoughts of what or who you’d rather be doing instead of Barely Average out of your head. While he may have thought my biting my lip was a sign of pleasure, it was unfortunately my trying not to cry out Magnum’s name in desperation.

Some of you may think there were other qualities that made seeing this guy worth it as is usually the case when the sex isn’t spectacular. Sadly, no there weren’t. The first time we met up, he nodded at me while his friend bought me a drink. We didn’t go out because most of the time, he was broke (Remember I’d just lost my job, by the way. You’d think the very least he’d have done is give me a conciliatory “Fuck your bosses” night of drinks or din-din). We didn’t do much but hang out at his place. Once, when I’d spent four hours coming back from Boston, ridden the subway to my place and hadn’t been in my apartment in four days, he called to welcome me back and asked what time I’d be at his place, then called me a “Diva” when I protested that that was a little audacious of him to ask of me. When I told him I found it annoying that he’d make tentative plans with me but never follow through, he said I was acting like a girlfriend. Oh, and he’s a full-time writer which I’d normally respect. But then I discovered two things: he’s 30 and calls himself a full-time writer because he’s a blogger. In NYC, at this point who the hell isn’t blogging? Oh yeah, and all of the above plus he’s 30.

I know, I know, why was I dealing with such a lazy person who’s also bad in bed? Who’s 30 and bad in bed!? Why did I even drunk-dial him recently knowing I’d have more fun eating chicken and watching re-runs of Nip/Tuck?

Because of Magnums! You’ve had the best and when that’s cut off, you’re desperate to have it again, you’ll take anything. It’s the cokeheads who get so crazed, they go to the crack when they’re dealer gets locked up. The only way you learn there’s no substitute for a good thing is when you get the shittiest replacement and that’s what I did. In my mourning over my end with Magnum, I got with the first penis to come my way. I know some ladies know what I’m talking about. It’s like trying the fat-free version of your favorite treat.

Well, folks, I’ll take the extra pounds anyday.


May 1, 2006 at 4:55 pm 18 comments

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