Take me at my smallest
When I first heard the joke, I laughed. Putting aside the annoying smugness of the professor, it is funny. But it got me to thinking. Take me at my smallest; by putting me on drugs that inhibit circulation (tobacco’s a good start), sending me to do some strenuous cardiovascular activity and then throwing me in a pool of freezing water. Then - if I’m still alive - measure my manhood. Then compare that with my dick at the peak of its raging, tumescent glory (few and far between these days, I’ll admit) and I would bet… I would bet my favorite guitar (Gretsch 6120 - Chet Atkins, it’s a beaut!), that the volume - we’re talking three dimensions here - of my peak erection, is more than ten-times the volume of my shriveled nub at it’s smallest. Now, just to make one thing clear, my guitar is not in peril, as I’m not going to hurl myself into a freezing pool, let alone with a ruler and measuring tape close at hand. I only mention it to demonstrate my confidence in my assertion and to illustrate a point; there are two types of men in this world: Growers and Show-ers. And I’m a fully paid-up member of Growers Anonymous - my name is Paul and I’m a grower.