See dick? Run!

I was reading in Men's Health the other day -- do you read that, the Men's Health magazine? It's like Cosmo for guys. Seriously, think about it: They both feature an incredibly appealing cover model whom the target demographic would very much like to emulate. There's these titillating headlines like "Super Sex Secrets!" "Fantasies she's to shy to tell you -- but she told our editors!"

And there's always some variation on "5 New Ways To Burn Belly Flab." Really? I've barely assimilated all the ways to burn belly flab from last month's issue! Come to think of it, I've been subscribing to this magazine for 6 years. I must know 3,000 ways to burn belly flab.

If there was any truth to this magazine, the cover would just say: "Men's Health -- all the shit from last month? Still true!" But I guess they're not gonna sell a lot of magazines that way.

In all seriousness, it's a pretty good magazine, better than a lot of them. Most of your men's exercise magazines are just thinly veiled gay erotica. Or not even that veiled, frankly. Hairless, muscular bodies, posed provocatively, all oiled up. Bulging thighs and buttocks protruding from snugly-fitting Speedos... what? like I'm the only one who's ever jerked off to it! Whatever...

(Just a joke, folks!)

But, in the interest of full disclosure, on the heels of such a joke, I feel I should come clean and admit that I did give tranny porn a shot once.

Tell me if you've ever done this: You say something as a joke, just to be glib, to get a laugh... and then you end up spending the rest of your life defending that statement.

I seem to do this a lot, and in this particular case, well, I said at a party once that I would rather do it with a tranny who looked just like Britney Spears, but had a penis, than with an old, fat and/or ugly chick.

(And, by the way, I can't tell you how happy I am that Britney is hot again, so this reference is once again current. The minutes I wasted on awkward explanations back when she looked like a haggard, strung-out grocery store clerk from my small hometown in Illinois, I'll never get those back. To all you guys who use Jessica Simpson as your go-to example of feminine sexiness, you have my sympathies. Inserting the phrase "but, back when she was hot" into your stories gets exhausting.)

My thinking was this: I'm a visual creature. I'm into the plumage, the presentation. And option A, while yes, she does have a penis, is only really about 5% objectionable when you assess the entirety of the situation. Whereas, option B, ya know... I'm sure probably has a dynamite personality. I thought this was pretty sound logic. Air-tight reasoning.

Not the case, at least not according to a jury of my peers.

Apparently, I'm the only person I know who feels this way. The way I figured it, guys are always trying to bang girls in the ass anyway, so how different would it really be?

Fast forward to now, after half a dozen vigorous defenses of this point of view, I'm to be forever branded "The Tranny Guy."

(Coming this fall from CBS: The Tranny Guy!)

But I was looking at internet porn one night -- I know, scandalous. You're shocked and appalled. Look, do me a favor and keep this between you and me, okay? I'd hate to lose my job as a youth minister.

So I'm looking at internet porn, and slowly a very disturbing realization washes over me: I've seen all the porn.


All of it.


I'm like: [click] Seen it.
[click] Seen it.
[click] Seen it, with director commentary.
[click] [click][ click]

And I start freaking out. "Oh, fuck! I'm gonna have to wait for a whole new crop of girls who hate their dads to turn 18 before I have something to whack it to!"

Then, as is often the case with the internet, I wind up some place I wasn't expecting to go -- a phenomenon which explains nearly all the traffic to sites like Engrish.com, I reckon -- and before I know it, I wind up on a page of Tranny Porn.

Chicks with Dicks.

But, you know, their own dicks.

I thought, what the hell. Any port in a storm, right? Let's take my little theory out for a test drive.

So I download a scene, and I'm watching it, and I'm thinking, "Okay, cool."

She's kinda cute. Tight little body. Nice fake tits, too much makeup -- in fact, her makeup is wearing too much makeup, but beggars can't be choosers. Dressed all slutty, alright. Here comes the guy. Now they're making out. Oh, now she's stroking him off, nice. Now she's blowing him, cool. Okay, okay, now they're having sex. And now he's...

Oh! No! Why is he doing that!? No! Don't do that! Take that out of your mouth! Why would he do that!?

Why would he do that??

And right then and there, my love affair with the mythical Britney-Tranny died. And, I think, a little part of me died with it...

* * * * *

I'm sorry, what the hell was I even talking about? Oh, yeah, Men's Health. So I'm reading an article that claims watermelon is nature's viagra. Apparently there's something in the watermelon that acts like viagra, keeping all the plumbing working, keeping everything all nice and engorged.

And it makes sense if you think about it, because aren't black guys supposed to have huge penises?

Ah! See, now half of you are laughing, and half of you aren't racist. Everybody wins!