This is the original and much wittier I think version of the Diary of a Penis that I wrote to publicise my book. Cosmo used a few earlier versions and their own amusing jokes to make up the piece that appeared in the mag, which I'll put up in the downloads section:
Monday 4th August
IÂ’ve decided to keep a diary.
This is surprising, for two reasons;
1) I am a penis. We are not renowned for our literary skills. (How do I write with no hands? LetÂ’s just say that the penis is mightier than the pen - though weÂ’re not much competition for a sword).
2) I am a penis. Generally one would assume my mind was on other things. But now IÂ’m 36 I seem to have more time on my hands (possibly because IÂ’ve got less hands on my time).
IÂ’ve started asking questions, like:
Is size important? And if not, why are there no two inch, pencil-thin vibrators?
IÂ’ve been considering all the old chestnuts. Well, thereÂ’s little else to look at when youÂ’re trapped in some underpants with them. At least I am sometimes released from this sweaty prison for copulation, masturbation, urination and occasionally as the central piece in an unamusing impression of an elephant.
So what do you call the useless flap of skin attached to the end of a penis? In my case heÂ’s called Richard, though I like to call him Dick (I enjoy the irony). WeÂ’ve managed to stay friends, despite our clandestine sexual relationship. Though, IÂ’m pretty sure that people can tell heÂ’s a wanker.
Speaking of which, Channel 5 is showing one of its so-called “adult movies” (is that why it’s called “soft” porn?) and it appears that I am required. Sometimes I hate my job.
Tuesday 5th August
I woke up before Dick as usual. Standing to attention for an hour and the sergeantÂ’s still sleeping.
OK, maybe not quite standing to attention. When I was 18, I was pointing at the ceiling, now IÂ’m pointing at the picture of DickÂ’s gran on the mantelpiece. Hopefully thatÂ’s normal, but I havenÂ’t seen any other erect penises, apart from in Porn films. Or horror movies as I call them. Heaven help me if those freaks are average.
Finally he wakes up, thereÂ’s a quick two minute fumble, no fore-play, no affection. He comes, rolls over and is snoring within thirty seconds. Know the feeling, girls?
It wouldn’t be so bad if Dick hadn’t been going through a lean patch recently. He split up with his girlfriend, Rachel, a couple of months back. Whilst I tried to be sympathetic and feel his pain, secretly I’m thinking “Single? Wa-hey! Ladies, form a queue!”
But we havenÂ’t had sex (with anyone else) for two months. ItÂ’s exactly like being in a long term relationship.
Wednesday 6th August
Dick is pining for Rachel, but I am keen for him to meet someone new (who understands that the phrase “strangling the chicken” is a euphemism, rather than an instruction), so I persuaded him to join a gym. How erotic! He’ll soon forget Rachel when he sees those lycra-clad lovelies bobbing up and down on the step machine.
But as he was sitting down to take off his shoes in the locker room, a chunky fella next to us bent over to remove his sweaty pants and stuck his flabby arse right in our faces. Not erotic. Not erotic at all.
Then he turned round.
Now IÂ’m not one for penis envy, but letÂ’s just say this fella doesnÂ’t do impressions of elephants. Maybe the Loch Ness Monster!
Dick put his shoes back on and left.
I tried to explain that I was a grower, not a show-er, but he was inconsolable.
Thursday 7th August
Not so inconsolable that he couldnÂ’t have a wank this morning. He thought of Rachel, which is weird because she was the last person heÂ’d think of when he was going out with her.
HeÂ’s got to get over her. Her techniques for giving blow jobs and grating cheese were uncannily similar.
Friday 8th August
IÂ’m getting so frustrated by the lack of action that IÂ’m considering catching myself in DickÂ’s zipper. Then IÂ’d need to go to hospital and at least IÂ’d get handled by a nurse.
Knowing my luck IÂ’d get a male nurse.
Given my level of frustration, that still isnÂ’t that unappealing a scenario.
Saturday 9th August
Miraculously Dick managed to pull tonight. She was pretty, funny and intelligent. Christ knows what she saw in him. (I mean, if sheÂ’d caught a glimpse of me I could understand it, but I can take no credit. He hadnÂ’t even done his elephant impression.)
Two hours after meeting her we were, naked, in her bed, all going to plan. She canÂ’t wait, he canÂ’t wait, I canÂ’t waitÂ…. But wait. ThereÂ’s a problem. NothingÂ’s happening. Is this thing plugged in?
HeÂ’s blaming me. But itÂ’s his fault. HeÂ’s nervous, heÂ’s drunk and worse, heÂ’s thinking about that cow, Rachel. No wonder I canÂ’t stand up straight.
“This has never happened before,” he lied.
She took one look at me and laughed.
The blood rushed to his cheeks, which is the last place we wanted the blood to be given the circumstances.
We stormed out with our heads hanging in shame.
Me and Dick slept with our backs to each other tonight. Which is quite a feat when you think about it.
Sunday 10th August
As solid as a Viagra-coated rock this morning. Typical!
But Dick and me found the best part of arguing is making up.
We both imagined what could have been.
