Thanks so much for all of your kind comments! It’s gratifying to discover a place where this kind of thing can be discussed maturely. I am already very impressed by the good fellowship here and the warm hospitality that’s being shown, and that in itself is good enough cause to be involved.
Now, the bigger dick thing is also a nice bonus…
I guess I should answer a few questions that seem to be popular:
Average - Let me qualify that. Get it angry and I’m between 5.5 and 6" erect, but measuring from the pubic bone is a tough trick on me because the fat pad I’m carrying is pretty substantial. And flaccid… it’s such an effective word, isn’t it? Sounds just like what it is… Flaccid I’m not even normally visible. The urologist assures me that under the roll cage there I’m perfectly normal, but damned if it doesn’t play with your head to look and see no dick at all. I’d like to post some starting stat’s so we can all play along but I really don’t know how to get an accurate measure.
16EEE - I take my shoes, like so many other things I need, wherever I can get them. Men with feet my size are becoming more common, so I have less trouble as the years go by. Funny thing is that from the time I was seven until I was fifteen, nobody could technically tell me to "act my age and not my shoe size" because the two kept pace pretty evenly all along. But the jump from 15E to 16EEE took many years, and for a long time I ascribed it to variances in shoemaking.
There is a really terrific web site for shoes; check out Shoes, Sneakers, Boots, & Clothing + FREE SHIPPING | Zappos.com. One advantage to having feet this big, while it makes it expensive, is that I can really only by two kinds of shoes. I can buy shitty kicks that wear out in a week, or I can buy the better makers’. Experience has taught me what to look for.
Here’s a weird big shoes story. When I was a teen we didn’t have a lot of money, so when I saw shoes in my size on sale I knew I needed to buy them. I wore some pretty ugly shoes sticking to that rule, but the weirdest run-in I ever had was that one time when I was thumbing through the ads in the back of Hustler Magazine one day and spotted an ad for black patent leather spike heels. On sale. And they came in my size. My mind was so conditioned to hunt for good shoe bargains that for half a tic my mind started thinking, hey, I really need to order a pair.
[No disrespect intended to those of you who are exploring different variations on the default boy-girl theme and its attendant traditional mores… I’m pretty straight-laced, but what you do on your own dime is cool by me as long as no one experiences any permanent damage. You know, unless they want to.]
Lightning - It’s worse than just lightning. Beginning when I was about ten years old I have been bitten by a poisonous snake, shot three times with small caliber arms (twice with the slugs actually bouncing off of my head), broken my neck in a car wreck and walking around or two years without knowing about it, fallen four stories and managed only to break an ankle, survived a near-fatal bout with hepatitis, severed my left thumb with a Samurai sword and had it surgically restored, and as previously mentioned, been struck by lightning.
Then came colon cancer and the brain tumor in my early thirties with many years of depression and vision weirdness leading up to its discovery. (There’s a relationship between pituitary tumors and colon cancer. My cancer was caught very, very early. During a routine endoscopy, which I was having because they thought I had Crohn’s Disease, a couple of polyps they cut loose had cancer cells. They drugged me up for a while and declared me cancer-free, with clear endoscopies to prove it ever since, so it wasn’t that hard to handle but I still get to say I had it.)
Now if only I had been a Navy SEAL I’d have some really great stories.
If it all hadn’t happened to me I wouldn’t believe it either, so if you’re scoffing I understand entirely. But looking back I get the sense that I’m being preserved for something important and that there’s really nothing left to kill me but time. Despite everything, I sincerely believe I will live to be over a hundred years old. As long as I’ve been designated as fate’s whipping boy, there’s no reason I should expect to be let off early. That’s just how my luck seems to run.
And my life has been a great adventure so far, with many extraordinary friends and lots of terrific events to counter-balance the onslaught of stupid shit. I don’t want to give anyone the wrong idea. My luck swings like a very fast and unpredictable pendulum from one extreme to the other with very little middle ground. I just haven’t had a reason to post a list of all the good things that have happened to me yet because the good things don’t affect my penis size…
When life gives me lemons, I’ve become conditioned to growl, "Yeah, I like lemons, bitch… What else ya got?" (I didn’t always, but I’m doing a great deal better these days. My late twenties were touch and go. My head was pretty mired down in deep depression that no drugs could even touch, let alone cure. I have a really terrific wife, and meeting her made the main difference in keeping me alive when the shit got really deep.)
Anyhow, thanks for having a place for me here. I’m going to hang back for a little bit and educate myself, and then I’ll start reporting some results!
All the best,
DL