Does SiZE Matter… in Politics or Sex? Let’s Have a Show of Hands!
Length 1:38:24 Date: Mar. 5, 2016
Size Matters in Politics and in Sex
It’s ironic, or perhaps it’s utterly fitting, that we kick off Women’s History (Herstory?) Month 2016 with an impassioned national conversation about male members.
Yes, the Grand Old Party’s mighty contenders have taken the U.S. presidential debate below the belt, contesting penis size or, more specifically, hand size, which is said to be correlated to penis size, though scientific studies of this anatomical urban legend say otherwise.
Whether or not such measurements are meaningful in matters of governance or one’s lover’s pleasure, the size of Donald Trump’s hands, and more specifically, the shortness of his fingers, have been a major topic of political discussion and media attention, shoving economic issues, perma-war, world affairs, environmental degradation, health care and poverty off the table with one firm slap. Call it a political “bitch slap,” if you will, but here we are, smarting.
Truth be told, if truth is ever told where a Trump is involved, Vanity Fair editor Graydon Carter first called the Republican frontrunner a “short-fingered vulgarian” in crafty old Spy Magazine over 20 years ago, apparently cracking Trumpty Dumpty’s eggshell ego, as ever since the remark was made, the disturbed billionaire has regularly sent Carter pictures of his expensively manicured digits encircled in gold Sharpie (rest assured, the Trump Organization executive office has a supply closet stacked with gold Sharpies) with captions like “See, not so short!”
Little Marco Attacks Trumpty’s Short-Cummings
The exhibitionist finger pix also makes the big Agent Orange-haired hulk fair game for all (not that he ever wasn’t). Last week, desperately trying to attract attention to his own limp and shriveling campaign, Marco Rubio, aka. “Little Marco” (so named by Mr. Short-Fingers) resurrected the meme and used it to attack Trump, the frontrunner you love to hate, the walking squawking poster boy for hypocrisy, greed and brutishness so loathed by Rubio supporters and other Old-Guard Establishment Repubs… even though the GOP has always been the party of hypocrisy, greed and brutishness, just not in such a vulgar short-fingered fashion.
Little Marco was practically drooling as he tossed his meme meat into the gaping maw of the gossip-hungry press: “He (Trump) is like 6’2,” squeaked Little Marco, “which is why I don’t understand why his hands are the size of someone who is 5’2. And you know what they say about men with small hands? You can’t trust them.”
Will this incisive political conclusion cause Trumpty Dumpty to fall off his wall… or at least get egg on his face? Or does it just reveal that Little Marco is a Size Queen?
Republican Sex Therapy
Because there’s something else “they say about men with small hands,” which Trumpty himself spelled out (almost) when he squealed like a smashed egg might, if a smashed egg could squeal. “He hit my hands! Nobody has ever hit my hands. I have never heard of this. Look at those hands. Are they small hands?” Trump practically cried big egg-yolky tears right there on the Motor City Fox Theatre stage.
Then with a mighty effort and a great showing of hands, Trumpty oratorically pushed aside the broken pieces of his shell, pulling his Confidence Man act out of the slimy fetal mess, to boast, “And he referred to my hands, if they are small, something else must be small. I guarantee you there is no problem. I guarantee.”
These “debates” are starting to sound like one of my sex therapy sessions.
Try Penis-Fencing, the Bonobo Way
But the proof is in the pudding or, in this case, the pants. So come on, boys—Trumpty Dumpty and Little Marco, Creepy Ted and the rest—quit talking with your hands (and out your ass), just whip out your weapons, and penis-fence already. You know you want to!
It’s what male bonobos do. And it’s actually not as silly—or “dirty”—as your so-called debates and certainly not as dangerous to the populace as your warmongering, your gun fetish, your military adoration and your romance with bigotry. In fact, the fine art of penis fencing is one reason why bonobos have never been seen killing each other in the wild or captivity. I call it The Bonobo Way of peace through pleasure.
America’s Self-Love Affair with Its Own Dicks
As a sex therapist, I’ve often thought about America’s self-love affair with its own dicks, especially since that ultimate American castration, the cutting down of the quintessentially phallic Twin Towers, Big Dick I and Big Dick II, epitomizing American humiliation in a fiery, fuming emasculation, shown ‘round the world to friends and enemies, over and over again. Maybe I’m just a little cock-crazy myself, because then in 2002, Bush’s threat to invade Iraq, coupled with Saddam’s boasting about the WMD he didn’t have, seemed to me to be just a big “Cockfight in the Baghdad Corral.”
It’s too bad that those two political dickheads didn’t conduct a real cockfight (or better yet, penis-fencing) to solve their differences. Instead, Bush, on the advice of that other dangerous Donald (Rumsfeld), invaded Iraq with a “Bukkake Bombing Crusade” followed by the devastating Anglo-American “Rape of Iraq” from which the Cradle of Civilization still hasn’t recovered. No doubt, penis-fencing—or some form of bonoboësque resource-sharing diplomacy—would be far better for the 99% than all this perma-war. Make sperm wars, not real wars!
In any case, Trumpty’s junk is not going away. He probably won’t accept Larry Flynt’s offer to have his doctors examine it to determine if he’s as “big” a guy as his “guarantee” implies. Though we might look forward to Melania or one of the previous wives making some sort of playful endorsement of the teetering Trump Tower.
Is Bigger Always Better?
That being said, the question remains: Does size matter—in sex or politics? In terms of sex, there are studies that say that women feel penis size matters (such women usually prefer bigger guys for one-night-stands, while opting for smaller sizes for relationships), and then there are studies that say size doesn’t matter to most women. It certainly isn’t required to give a woman an Earth-shattering orgasm, as that usually takes external clitoral touch or perhaps G-spot stimulation. The G-spot being located about an inch or two inside on the roof of the vaginal cave, it is most easily reached with a clever crooked finger, not a big cock.
Nevertheless, many people, most of whom are men, are obsessed with penis size as a *potent* symbol of manhood, in which case it does matter… a lot. And that could deeply and profoundly affect your sexuality, your politics, or just your sense of proportion… especially if you have no sense of humor.
For instance, it has been recently reported that in the land where Trump’s forebears went by the surname “Drumpf” (making him Trumpty Drumpfty?), a certain Adolf Hitler suffered from “a rare condition called penile hypospadias (a birth defect) in which the urethra opens on the underside of the penis.” Not only did hypospadias leave Der Führer with a “micropenis,” but it also caused him to urinate from a hole on the shaft as opposed to the tip. Did genital deformity contribute to Adolf’s genocidal rage and jack-booted fury? Seems likely. But a small or even a deformed penis alone does not Der Fuehrer make. Not every kid who gets bullied on the playground becomes a mass murderer. It’s a lot about attitude.
The attitude of Trumpty Drumpfty (said by ex-wife Ivana to have kept Hitler’s speeches by his bedside, with eerie similarities to his own, as pointed out by Bill Mahr)? Aside from his “Me first, and the hell with everybody else,” point of view, it’s the American credo of capitalism: bigger is better.
Aside from the size of our dicks (which are, internationally speaking, a little below average), in what ways are we bigger, and is it better? America still has the world’s biggest economy, though China is expected to surpass us soon. We also have the biggest Military-Industrial Complex, and the biggest Prison-Industrial Complex, with the most people in prison, many locked up for non-violent crimes. We have massive over-population and an obesity epidemic. These are some ways in which we are bigger. Is that better?
Sometimes, it’s better to be small.
PHOTOS: ONO BO
Big Hands, Buck Rogers, Foot Fetish & Chastity Bites for Women’s Month
Speaking of size, Patrick Jankiewicz, a gigantic World Trade Tower of a man, is our featured guest on this show. You were wondering when I was going to get around to talking about the show, weren’t you?
Standing 6’9”, Mr. Jankiewicz (rhymes with Weird Al Yankovic, who could be his cousin but isn’t) dwarfs the shrimpy 6’2” Donald. Though we don’t get to view his penis, we do see his hands and they are super-sized. His feet are the size of watermelons. Whole families of certain species could live on these feet, especially considering the state of his sneakers, which are titanic.
Pat is an author/actor/comic/journalist from the great American Midwest, visiting Bonoboville for the first time courtesy of the congenial Joe Williamson. He’s the author of “Just When You Thought It was Safe: A Jaws Companion,” (which brings up the unmistakably penile proportions of sharks, especially in Jaws promos) “You Wouldn’t Like Me When I’m Angry: A Hulk Companion” (or a Trump companion?) plus his newest book, Buck Rogers in the 25th Century: A TV Companion, which we use for book–spankings. Pat has also appeared in such films and TV series as MTV’s “Death Valley,” “The Sarah Silverman Program” and “Fangoria’s Blood and Guts with Scott Ian.”
Troma films notwithstanding, I am generally not a horror fan. All that “blood and guts” makes me lose my popcorn. But I do appreciate the art, politics and subversive humor that often gets embedded into the horror genre—in part because, in our sex-negative society, horror is more acceptable than porn, or even nudity. After all, if a woman shows her breasts on film, that’s an R rating and if she makes love, that’s XXX, but if she’s simply murdered, blood and guts spraying, that’s totally PG.
Though I’ve only seen the trailer, I tip my Women’s History Month-conscious hat to Chastity Bites (written by a woman, the talented Lotti Parriss Knowles) for being delightfully pro-sex and female-empowering, a campy satire of sleazy abstinence-only high school programs that force or trick teens into “promising” to remain virgins until marriage. Interestingly, Pat plays a gardener with a foot fetish which, in real life, embarrasses the big guy, especially when the fabulous Dayton Rains—award-winning porn star, webcam and phone therapist with the Institute—and I play footsie as we chat.
LA Laker Riots & Book-Spankings
Pat is an actor, and he acts the part of the big unsuspecting rube in Bonoboville and, in a way, he is. However, like a good journalist, he knows things about me that I’ve long forgotten, painting a vivid picture of himself watching the LA Laker Riots of 2000, and seeing my name on a banner by the Blue Line, lit up by a car on fire—an iconic LA moment. It took me a minute to remember hearing about this incident when Bonoboville was on Flower Street near the Staples Center but, this being before the Era of Youtube, no one sent me a link to the video that Pat apparently saw. Maybe now someone will!
Pat is slightly submissive—which is a good quality in a giant like him—getting down on the floor and saying “Yes, Ma’am” a lot. But he’s also a bit stubborn, such as when he insists on favoring mandrills over bonobos (maybe because male mandrills are twice the size of females which is, approximately, Pat’s proportion in relation to Dayton and me). By the end of the show, Pat is wisely conceding that bonobos are far more interesting than mandrills, and lumbering over Dayton’s knee as I spank him with The Bonobo Way. His only request: that I spank him with his Buck Rogers book too.
Bonoboville Communion with Green Blood of Agwa
First on this show to take Bonoboville Communion is Gonzo Bonobo in honor of his third anniversary as a citizen of Bonoboville. Gonzo licks it up in style from Dayton’s award-winning 32DDD altar, leaving the Altar Girl (now stripped down to nothing but her panties, subsequently donated to Panty Boy) asking for more.
PHOTOS 1 & 3: ONO BO. PHOTO 2: MAX. PHOTO 4: UNSCENE ABE
Pat was a Catholic altar boy, so he knows all about communion. Maybe he knows too much. When he drops down on his knees, it seems like he’s still standing up, so it’s a little difficult to get him into position. Here’s where size can be a distinct liability. Shy, he just gives a quick lick to the shoulder, but he enthusiastically “gets lei’ed” and leans back like a human landslide—almost burying tiny Dayton—to receive the bright green “blood” of Agwa Herbal Coca Leaf Liqueur that our Altar Girl manages to pour religiously down his throat. Lloyd Kaufman and the Class of Nuke ‘Em High would be proud. Though Dayton was just happen to survive the avalanche… and even invited the avalanche himself to her upcoming Bonoboville Birthday Bash next Saturday, March 19.
Hedy Lamarr: Sexpot Genius
Size matters aside, I want to end this blog as I begin this show: with a real female-empowering Women’s History Month tribute to an amazing woman: the late great Hedy Lamarr (one of Capt’n Max’s favorites), the gorgeous sexy part-Jewish Austrian actress who starred in the 1933 movie Ecstasy where she had the first on-camera masturbatory orgasm. Though the film notoriously shows her swimming and running naked through fields, her famous “orgasm” only shows her ecstatically beautiful face. Then she went Hollywood, starring in many popular films, from Algiers to Samson and Delilah.
But Hedy wasn’t *just* a hottie. This beauty had brains, remarkably co-inventing a groundbreaking radio guidance system for Allied torpedoes, using spread spectrum and frequency hopping technology to defeat the Axis powers’ attempts at jamming. The principles of Hedy’s invention are now incorporated into modern Wi-Fi and Bluetooth technology, leading to her induction into the National Inventors Hall of Fame in 2014.
So there you have her: One of the world’s sexiest women, who was an early porn star, also co-invented wireless technology. What a great inspiration for all brainy beauties celebrating Women’s History Month.
And with such nice little hands!
© March 6, 2016. Susan Block, Ph.D., a.k.a. “Dr. Suzy,” is a world renowned LA sex therapist, author of The Bonobo Way: The Evolution of Peace through Pleasure and horny housewife, occasionally seen on HBO and other channels. For speaking engagements, call 310-568-0066.
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