Showing posts with label healthy penis. Show all posts
Showing posts with label healthy penis. Show all posts

Monday, March 13, 2023

Dick is in the News

Dick is in the news.  

According to a recent paper in the World Journal of Men's Health, "The average erect penis length has increased over the past three decades across the world. Given the significant implications, attention to potential causes should be investigated."  And it increased significantly: "After adjusting for geographic region, subject age, and subject population; erect penile length increased 24% over the past 29 years."  That's a lot of dick growth!  To draw this conclusion, the authors searched "the literature" for "studies that evaluated penile size. Search terms included: 'Penile Length' OR ('Width' OR 'Circumference' OR 'Dimension') AND ('Erect' OR 'Flaccid' OR 'Stretched')."  I suspect "the literature" was stuff I've covered here previously.  Anyway, this is proof that career options abound for Genital Studies majors.

Also in the news: 50 Cent's dick.  Fiddy sued a spa/plastic surgery center for posting a photo of him with the owner in a manner that suggested he received penis enlargement services.  He also sued a gossip blog for perpetuating the rumor.  He settled with the blog but the dick-measuring contest litigation with the spa continues.


Also in the news: Dick Van Dyke appeared on Masked Singer as a gnome.  

Then he busted out Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious and even did a little jig at the end.  Pretty impressive when you realize he's 97.

Also impressive: Dick's wife is 50.  He picked her up at the 2007 Screen Actors Guild Awards (back when he was 81 and she was 35) by spitting serious game--he said "Hi, I'm Dick."

And no bag of dicks would be complete without a Trump in it.  DJ Trump has a hot new joint out called "Justice for All" in which his hot fire verses are interspersed with singing by the J6 Prison Choir.  I am completely not making this up, the former President of the United States of America made a song with a bunch of jailed insurrectionists.  Apparently the inmates were recorded over the phone (in case you were wondering about the logistics of getting a recording studio into a prison).  Positioned as a "charity song," managed by Kash Patel and Ed Henry, "[f]unds are slated to go to an LLC run by Henry, who will then disperse the profits.  Recipients will be vetted to make sure proceeds do not benefit families of people who assaulted a police officer."  A master class in dickishness, unbounded dickery if you will--it dicks around with democracy, decency, the rule of law, even Metallica gets dicked in this story.  Here's the song.  Just be warned that watching it will probably contribute a fraction of a cent to some dickhead insurrectionist or directly to DJ Trump (which I guess is the same thing).


Saturday, March 26, 2016

Rappers Are In Danger

KRS-ONE's lyrics are timeless. "Sound of the Police," "Bo! Bo! Bo!," and "Who Protects Us From You?" are all 20+ years old but these anthems against police brutality are relevant today. "P Is Free," "Love's Gonna Get'cha," "Drug Dealer," and "Illegal Business" are also 20+ years old but still reflect the impact of illegal drugs on American life.

Also relevant is his 1995 single Rappaz R.N. Dainja in which he states "Some rappers like to come to the party, hopin' to leave with somebody, check, I come with skills and I leave with your motherfuckin' respect."



Simply put, MCs can't stay out of court.

The latest rapper to put down the mic and file a complaint is Andre Roxx, whose real name is Marques Andre Johnson. Andre Roxx (not to be confused with Greg Rocks) is a member of the Midwest Killa Beez. I'm not sure what that means exactly, but he asserts that this makes him an "affiliate" of the Wu-Tang Clan--apparently there's a West Coast Killa Beez and presumably other directional Killa Beez consortia.

This is relevant because there's a guy named Andre Johnson who goes by Christ Bearer (not to be confused with Paul Bearer), and he's a member of the West Coast Killa Beez. In a haze of drugs and depression, Christ Bearer decided to cut his penis off and commit suicide by jumping out a window. He was successful in all but one aspect of this endeavor: he survived the fall. A reattachment procedure failed, but he's past the depression and in a good place, positing "I'm alive, penis or no penis."

You can intuitively see why this story is newsworthy. Somewhere along the way though, the injured party's identity got garbled. "Wu-Tang affiliate and Killa Beez member Andre Johnson" was confused with "Wu-Tang affiliate and Killa Beez member Marques Andre Johnson" and the penile puncture was attributed to the wrong rapper. Various media outlets reported that Andre Roxx sliced his schlong when it was really Christ Bearer who diced his dong.

You can see how this might happen--I've addressed this exact situation before (in the comments). These types of details are important, at least to Andre Roxx. As an initial matter, Andre Roxx was in a Pennsylvania jail when Christ Bearer mutilated his manhood and jumped out the window at a party. While this provides factual cover for Roxx, his fellow inmates didn't appreciate this nuance and took it as an invitation to start "threatening, harassing and attacking him." He wound up in protective custody and isolation.

Once released he "made thousands of telephone calls, to every disc jockey and promoter he knew, as well as cold calls to clubs and promoters, but was unable to generate any interest." The take-home here is that if you're going to present yourself as a tough-as-nails MC from the streets of Shaolin, you have to have fully intact genitals. Indeed, Bar Stool Sports opined "How can you be a rapper without a dick? What's even the point? Would be like being a blogger with no hands."

Despite the fact that most if not all of the media outlets covering this story corrected the self-immolator's identity within a day or two, the Wu-Tang Clan went so far as to renounce Andre Roxx on their website, stating "This M*********** Ain't Got S*** to do with The WUTANG Brand" next to a photo of Andre Roxx (and not Christ Bearer). He thus lost his Killa Beez status, and with it the opportunity to make $2000-$4500 per performance, with bookings occurring 4-6 times a week.

Predictably, social media commentators piled on. Upon the online release of his next single, people commented stuff like "This shit so hard make me wanna hack my dick off and jump off something tall" and "Look, it's the dickless wonder" and "bye bye Johnson" (a play on his last name).

Perhaps the most painful impact is on his social life, "as many people who might otherwise be social or romantic connections do not want to be seen in public with him." Everyone swipes left on Andre Roxx because they think he's cockless.

So he did the only thing he could do. He hired a bankruptcy lawyer and filed a complaint in Federal court in Delaware. Well, I suppose he could've hired a commercial litigator or, heaven forfend, an IP litigator to handle the potential soft IP causes of action. Instead he has two counts of libel and a false light invasion of privacy claim. Negligent infliction of emotional distress might've been a nice count to include and maybe something like a Lanham Act violation for improperly tarnishing Andre Roxx's brand, but who knows what the laws of Delaware look like. It's not like they're available online or anything.

Andre Roxx requested a jury and as usual I think being impaneled in this case would be a hoot. And the closing argument will be a snap. After Andre Roxx takes the stand and drops his pants to establish his unmarred member to the jury, his lawyer can simply state "His junk's in place so he wins the case." Or "His dork ain't cut so it's open and shut." Or "His pecker is viable so defendants are liable." The closing really writes itself.

I'll let you know how this all shakes out.

Friday, August 22, 2014

Pour one out for my vas deferens

By the time you read this, a middle-aged Norwegian man will have his arm elbow-deep in my mighty nutsack, rummaging around in search of a garden-hose sized tube called the vas deferens so that he can isolate it, pull it out of my testicular pouch, and snap it in half with a bolt cutter. This procedure will sever the link between my testes and my dickhole, thereby preventing my omnipotent zsperm from running unfettered into unwitting ova. I will allow said Norwegian to perform this act of seeming barbarism so that I will not have any more zchildren, because, well, click on this link to my last penis post and you'll understand.

The doctor was intimidated by my manly girth at the consultation visit. Based on his reaction I understand that my vas deferens is some heavy-duty stuff. I suspect it's like a fuel line--braided stainless steel, something like this:


Hence the bolt cutter.

In light of my recent snafus with my health insurance carrier, I made sure to stay in-network. And I also made sure to consult with G:TB's foremost vasectomy expert, Danimal. His advice was invaluable. He made it clear that you shouldn't just pick the vasectomist with the fanciest degrees or the highest ratings, you gotta find a guy with flair. For example, Danimal pointed me to Dr. James Baldock. If you're going to let someone crack your ballsack open, shouldn't he have a name like Jimmy Balldoc?

This led me to Dr. Eric Seaman. Unfortunately, as you can see from his bio, Dr. Seaman specializes in vasectomy reversals, but he doesn't seem to cut the cord too much. I guess he's more interested in letting the Seaman out and not keeping them cooped up inside.

I then found the troika of Dr. Zoltan, Dr. Colon, and Dr. Yanke in Brooklyn. Despite being a zperson, Zoltan specializes in the bladder and the prostate. I assume that Colon only works with lower intestines so I crossed him off the list. Yanke seemed like a good fit, given that you're supposed to "produce a sample" after the procedure so that the doctor can put it under the microscope ... and given this:



But he's a kidney stone guy. And Brooklyn is just too far to travel to have someone pry your scrotum open.

Ultimately I found a guy less than five miles away with degrees from Bowdoin and Columbia who "enjoys relaxing with family, cooking spicy food, collecting vintage jazz, soul and salsa records and building hi-fi equipment with vacuum tubes." Anyone who builds hi-fi equipment knows his way around the business end of a soldering iron, so he should be amply prepared to cauterize my deferens shut, sequestering zsperm in znads for eternity.

By the time you've made it this far through the post I'm hopefully at home, resting peacefully on a bag of frozen peas, the tattered remains of my vas deferens flopping aimlessly inside the velvety sac of my family jewels, the world saved from enduring any further zchildren.

Post count!

Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Part II: Blood is Thicker Than a Solution of Water, Urea, and Creatinine, Alternatively Titled "I Realize That I Have Something in Common With Daniel Snyder"

In Part I of this piece I told the story of the time my son kicked my dick so hard I pissed blood. I concluded with the realization that "Just like Dan Snyder, I piss burgundy and gold!" This realization coupled with some comments last week about the use of the word "Redskins" got me thinking about some legal wrinkles in the analysis.

Here's some quick background that will make my upcoming rant more understandable. You can register a trademark with the federal government if you use that mark in commerce in connection with goods or services. In particular, you register the mark with the United States Patent and Trademark Office (USPTO or PTO). You submit an application and an examiner decides whether to register the mark. You have a back-and-forth dialog with the examiner but if he won't give you the mark you can appeal his refusal to the Trademark Trial and Appeal Board (TTAB). If you don't like the TTAB's decision you can appeal that to the US Court of Appeals for the Federal Circuit (CAFC). After that you're shit out of luck (SOL), unless the Supreme Court of the United States (SCOTUS) will hear the case but that's highly unlikely. If you don't like someone else's trademark you can challenge it in the TTAB, and the owner of the mark has the option to remove the matter to the US District Court for the District of Columbia (DDC). You an appeal the DDC's decision to the Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia Circuit (CADC), and again you're probably SOL if you don't like their conclusion.

In 1992 a group of seven Native Americans petitioned the TTAB to cancel the REDSKINS trademark because they found it disparaging. There were many proceedings before the TTAB, DDC, and the CADC. In the end six of the Native American petitioners' claims were dismissed based on a laches defense -- the mark was registered in 1967 and they didn't sue until 1992. Simply put, they sat on their claim for too long. (I can't believe I'm writing about laches here again.) The seventh petitioner was only a year old in 1967 so he couldn't have sued when the mark was first registered, but he turned 18 in 1984 so he waited 7 years and 9 months to file his petition. Through various intellectual convolutions, DDC decided that he wasn't reasonably diligent in bringing his claim and CADC affirmed. Here's the CADC opinion. There may have been more opinions after this one but the gist is that these folks waited too long to complain that they were offended by the use of the name REDSKINS.

The obvious solution to this problem is to find a bunch of Native American kids with the same birth date and file a petition on their behalf on the day they turn 18. This is why people hate lawyers.


In fact I think someone has already started to put such a group of petitioners together. But what happens next? Well, the TTAB or DDC have to decide if the mark is "immoral, deceptive, or scandalous" under Section 2 of the Lanham Act. What does that mean? That means the petitioner must demonstrate that mark is shocking to sense of truth, decency, or propriety; disgraceful; offensive; disreputable; giving offense to conscience or moral feelings; or calling out for condemnation.

How the hell do you do that? Sometimes it's easy, like when you have a smutty mark. CAFC recently affirmed the TTAB's refusal of "COCK SUCKER" which was intended to be used on chocolate lollipops shaped like roosters. Apparently the target audience was students at the University of South Carolina and Jackson State University because they both have gamecock mascots. Seriously, read the opinion.


"COCK SUCKER" is clearly vulgar and I don't know why CAFC needed 13 pages to reach that conclusion but I'm not a judge so what do I know. Similarly, the following smutty marks have been refused by CAFC and/or TTAB:

1-800-JACK-OFF
JACK-OFF
A photo of a man and a woman with the man's penis exposed, used to promote swinging
CUMFIESTA
CUMGIRLS
PUSSY
SEX ROD (opposed by the Red Sox in part because it was in the same font as their trademark)
YOU CUM LIKE A GIRL
DE PUTA MADRE
BULLSHIT
W.B. WIFE BEATER
TWATTY GIRL
GRANDMA SCHITTHED'S OUTHOUSE BROWN
GRANDPA SCHITTHED'S INKY STINKY PALE ALE
SCHITTHED'S
DICK HEAD'S

But they allowed "BIG PECKER BRAND" because "use of the term 'pecker' meaning penis is rapidly becoming archaic" and just isn't offensive anymore. So start throwing that term around the office and if anyone reports you to HR tell them to take it up with the TTAB.

In the context of disparaging marks, the TTAB applies the following test:

(1) what is the likely meaning of the matter in question, taking into account not only dictionary definitions, but also the relationship of the matter to the other elements in the mark, the nature of the goods or services, and the manner in which the mark is used in the marketplace in connection with the goods or services; and
(2) if that meaning is found to refer to identifiable persons, institutions, beliefs or national symbols, whether that meaning may be disparaging to a substantial composite of the referenced group.

How does this play out in practice? Oddly. For example, in In re Squaw Valley Dev. Co., the TTAB concluded that the marks "SQUAW" and "SQUAW ONE" were offensive when used to sell clothing or retail store services in the field of sporting goods or equipment. They reached this conclusion after reviewing a plethora of dictionaries, articles, state laws, and other sources showing that "SQUAW" is an offensive term for a Native American woman. However, they decided that "SQUAW" was not offensive when used to sell skis, ski poles, ski bindings, and other ski equipment because Squaw Valley is a ski resort and it's often referred to simply as "Squaw." Again, people hate lawyers for a reason.

Similarly, the mark "HEEB" was refused (by a panel of judges named Seeherman, Holtzman, and Kuhlke) as disparaging to Jews. But by contrast, "MAFIA BRAND" and "JUNIOR M.A.F.I.A." (Biggie!) were allowed because "MAFIA" isn't disparaging to Italians ... according to two panels of judges named Chapman, Hairston, and Bottorff; and Simms, Walters, and McLeod, respectively.

Sometimes reading cases is fun: "BLACK TAIL" was used to sell noodie magazines and it was allowed because:

As the Court said in Mavety, and as the present record shows, the word “tail” can have a variety of meanings as applied to an adult entertainment magazine. In particular, the dictionary definitions show that “tail” can mean “buttocks,” and there is no indication from the dictionary definitions that such a meaning would be considered vulgar.

Having reviewed the issue of BLACK TAIL magazine which is of record herein, we find it difficult to believe that anyone, seeing the mark used for such a publication, would consider the phrase to refer simply to buttocks. The photographs in the publication are photographs of nude and scantily-clad African-American women, and while many of the photographs feature the rear ends of these women, a large number feature their breasts and genitalia, often showing the women using their fingers to further expose themselves. However, our principal reviewing Court stated quite clearly in Mavety that, in view of the existence of an alternate, non-vulgar definition of “tail,” the Board, without more, erred in concluding that in the context of an adult entertainment magazine, a substantial composite of the general public would necessarily attach to the mark BLACK TAIL the vulgar meaning of “tail” as a female sexual partner, rather than the admittedly non-vulgar meaning of “tail” as rear end. 31 USPQ2d 16 1928. Given that opposers have not provided any further evidence as to the meaning of “tail” than was present before the Court during the appeal, we cannot conclude that it is the vulgar meaning that the relevant public would attach to the mark, nor can the Board substitute its own judgment for that of the perspective of the relevant public.

Can you imagine reviewing back issues of Black Tail magazine in your office with a valid work-related reason?!? I need to get a job on the TTAB! Out of respect for the women of G:TB, this is the only Black Tail photo I will post here.


So what does all this mean for "REDSKINS"? My hunch is that it will be canceled. In order for a mark to be offensive "a substantial composite of the referenced group" must feel disparaged. Here are some data from the TTAB proceeding involving the REDSKINS mark:


As we already saw, "SQUAW" was not allowed in some circumstances (i.e., when it wasn't clearly tied to Squaw Valley) because it was found to be offensive, but less than half of Native Americans (47.2%) surveyed felt offended by it. So you don't need to demonstrate a consensus to establish that a mark is disparaging. In fact, the judges who denied the HEEB mark noted that "While case law does not provide a fixed number or percentage, it is well established that a 'substantial composite' is not necessarily a majority." Given that 36.6% of Native Americans surveyed (i.e., more than 1 in 3) and 46.2% of the general population are offended by "REDSKINS," I can easily see the mark being canceled (once the stupid laches shenanigans are avoided). The "HEEB" opinion suggests that if a sub-population within the group in question is offended, then the "substantial composite" requirement is met, and a smart lawyer should be able to parcel out a particular sub-population of Native Americans to win cancelation.

To that point, Rick Reilly clearly isn't a trademark lawyer. There was an LA-based rap group called N.W.A. that was popular in the late 80's/early 90's. You may have heard of them. According to their Wikipedia page, N.W.A. stands for "N***az Wit Attitudes." N.W.A. registered the "N.W.A." mark with the USPTO. They did not, however, register "N***AZ WIT ATTITUDES". Clearly they aren't offended by the word "n***az," and neither are countless other emcees who throw the word around, so in Rick Reilly's world what's the problem? In fact, many people have tried to register marks containing this word but none have been allowed. And obviously the NAACP would win if they petitioned the TTAB to cancel a mark containing this word. So just because some Native Americans don't mind calling themselves "REDSKINS" doesn't mean that the term isn't offensive to other Native Americans. Or perhaps to put too fine a point on it, what does Rick Reilly think would happen if they changed the team name to the Washington Niggaz? Chris Rock pondered this previously but I can't find the video.

Of course, even if the federal registration of the REDSKINS mark gets canceled, Snyder et al. can continue to use it and can probably even enforce infringement of the mark in state court. But can you imagine how shitty Snyder would look if a panel of federal appellate judges decide that "REDSKINS" is too racist a word to receive federal protection but he continues to use it nonetheless? No one can be that tone deaf.

I joked yesterday that they should become the Washington Hematuria but I did a google image search and found nothing that would look good on a helmet. So here is a handful of suggestions.

WASHINGTON WASPS - tons of them in Northern Virginia and they'd love to rock "WASP" hats with plaid shorts and Topsiders. They can keep the colors too.


WASHINGTON VICTORS - hail to the victors, hail victory. The song writes itself. And it needs to be rewritten.

WASHINGTON RATTLESNAKES - they can keep the "R" trademark and the colors, and this particular snake is found in Maryland:


WASHINGTON GIBBSES - how fucking dope would this look on a helmet?


WASHINGTON RHINOS - tough as nails, they keep the "R", and no one else uses it. Sure, there are no rhinos in DC but how many Native Americans do you see in the District?

My work here is done. Next week I'll solve another major American crisis that arises in G:TB's comments.

Tuesday, September 24, 2013

Part I: Blood is Thicker Than a Solution of Water, Urea, and Creatinine, Alternatively Titled "I Realize That I Have Something in Common With Daniel Snyder"

I spent the first 36 years of my life operating under the assumption that I would never have children. I don't like spending time with kids very much and they seem to be a massive financial loss center. My general lack of parental role models coupled with my miserable shrew of a first wife made me feel like I would be doing our offspring a disservice by trying to raise him or her.

But then I met zwoman and realized that being married with children could be a good thing, and it turns out this was the best thing I ever did. I am happier than I've ever been and I love my son beyond words. Indeed, I cannot find the words to explain why I still love him so much (or why I even allow him to continue to live in my house) after the events of last Saturday.

zson enjoys climbing and jumping all over me and I enjoy the roughhousing almost as much as he does. He's only 2 1/2 though, so his toes are very small and the bones inside them are sharp and pointy, with not a lot of meat surrounding them. That is to say, it hurts when he pokes you with his toes.

zson was doing one of his favorite maneuvers: while I sit in our recliner with my feet on the ottoman, he walks across my legs and jumps from my knees into my body. We've done this many times with nary an injury. Until last Saturday. As he had done countlessly, zson walked onto my knees and leapt forward like Jimmy Snuka.


Notice how Snuka's left foot is cocked back? That's exactly how zson flew at me. As all 40 pounds of him flopped onto my chest, he whipped his shoeless foot straight down, impaling his pointy little toes flush into the shaft of zpenis. To say that I experienced pain is to say that the Grand Canyon is a big hole. It was not unlike this. I folded up like a jackknife. I saw stars. My mouth snapped open but no sound could come out. zwoman's hand immediately shot to her mouth. zson laughed and rolled off me so that he could do it again.

The pain subsided relatively quickly. About 30 minutes later I felt no lingering effects from the affront to my schwantz, and I went into the bathroom to pee. I let loose the Kraken and it showed no ill effects from the blow it suffered. I pulled out the jammy, aimed it at the bowl, and let pee fly. For a second nothing happened; what happened next will haunt me forever. A large, shiny, burgundy mass shot out of my dick, much like John Hurt's famous "chester" scene in "Aliens" ... with my dick playing the role of Hurt's chest.



The blob looked like a cross between that little alien's head and a squashed grape. It hit the inside of the bowl with an audible "splat" and was followed by a contrail of what looked like fruit punch. But it was not fruit punch. It was blood-soaked urine. I finished before these events could register in my mind, wiped the fruit punch off of the rim, and flushed the alien baby down.

Once I realized what had happened I staggered into the family room and took to my iPad. I entered "blood clot in urine" and what I read sent me into a cold sweat and a Tony Soprano-esque panic attack. Kidney failure. Bladder cancer. Urinary tract infection. Kidney stones. Prostate cancer.

I relayed my fears to zwoman and because she is the most wonderful woman in the world she calmly noted, "Well, you did just get kicked in the dick ... really hard." She suggested I go to an urgent care facility. I peed fruit punch again (but no alien baby blood clots) so I went. In a long discussion with the doctor, I realized that I just had a physical for life insurance a few months earlier and that my application was approved, so I can't have all of the diseases I feared. The doctor (who was a lady and kindly did not make me whip it out for examination, but did ask for a sample of my fruit punch) said "You have a lot of blood in your urine but I think your son hit you just right and broke a capillary or two." Just right indeed.

I went home with my fears allayed. The next time I peed it was much less fruit punchy. And then the time after that produced a yellow bowl with just a few maroon streaks. Because I'm an idiot my immediate reaction was "Just like Dan Snyder, I piss burgundy and gold!"

Stay tuned for Part II coming tomorrow: my legal justification for changing the Washington Redskins' name to the Washington Hematuria!

Wednesday, April 24, 2013

Equal Time

We're longtime and unabashed supporters of all things vajayjay, but as men (at least legally - we'll leave the question of maturity for another time), we're obviously concerned about our own, um, attributes.

So it's with no small sense of gratitude that we congratulate the San Francisco Department of Public Health for shaking the mothballs (wait for it) off one of the members (wait...) of its hard-working (wait...) staff (almost there...) in service of men's health. We're pleased to announce the return of The Healthy Penis to duty, doing his part to remind men of the need to be tested for STDs and HIV.

According to sfgate.com, The Healthy Penis caused some controversy when he initially debuted in 2002 (actually, three differently hued Healthy Penii were unveiled at that time), but became a beloved community mascot. From the sfgate.com story:
San Francisco may have banned the exposure of genitalia, but that’s not stopping the Department of Public Health from bringing back its giant Healthy Penis. Yes, the beloved six-foot-tall mascot for safe sex is literally coming out of the closet and will be back at parades and other city events – and this time he comes with free penis-shaped stress toys!
Most of us already have free penis-shaped stress toys, but anything that promotes healthy manparts is okay with us.

(Editor's note: we don't love that photo, but we'll be damned if we were going to do a Google Image search for 'healthy penis'.)

[Other editor's note: TMarls wanted the pic below added to the post, showing a plethora of penises (penii? penes?) and one STD crunchberry]