A Prick’s Soliloquy
The following events occurred during the academic school of 2004-05 and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of the author or TSB Magazine.
He called himself Chuck the Penis Pill Popper.
One-word adjectives aptly described him. Fat. Crude. Loud. Greasy. Obnoxious.
The entire persona was a farce, a reaction to the college’s staging of “The Vagina Monologues.” Enraged upon seeing flyers posted around campus touting monologues by vaginas, my otherwise nerdy and out-of-shape roommate decided his penis had something to say too.
He marched across campus with an angry two-step that was part confidence, part abrasive. As Chuck P.P. Popper, he donned a getup that included a sleeveless flannel shirt fit for a lumberjack, ill-fitting jeans, and a wrestling mask worn only by history’s fat bullies — torturers, executioners, and now vogue for flabby wrestlers and self-proclaimed penis pill poppers.
As his roommate, I was his accomplice by default. Duties included following him around the dorms as he bit Vagina Monologue flyers off bulletin boards, chewed them into bits, and spat them out like slimy pieces of confetti. He made a single appearance in the dining hall, tearing down and shredding a banner as diners looked on in horror.
As you can imagine, every feminist on campus quickly united to put an end to Chuck and his penis pill popping ways. At first, pictures of him surfaced in the shitty school newspaper. Hilariously, dorm surveillance cameras had snapped the only known pictures of him and the grainy snapshots of the chubby man in a wrestling mask became an urban legend of sorts. He was like the campus Big Foot or Loch Ness Monster.
Search parties of hairy-legged women hunted him relentlessly. Editorials penned by every Humanities professor hungering for a promotion vilified him. Everyone seemed united against this menace to female genitalia except one group: splinter cells of male student.
Urinals proclaimed the long life of Chuck in etched scribble. Copycat Chucks ignited a wave of vandalism that hinged on a single motif: poorly drawn and anatomically incorrect penises. One inspired piece of graffiti featured Chuck’s name in bubble letters along the penis shift, using the cartoonish ball sac to form the letter “C”.
Fear of expulsion (and/or vigilante castration) snipped the career of Chuck the Penis Pill Popper short. And, to my knowledge, I’m the only one who knows the true identity of Chuck. More importantly, I’m the only one who knows what spurred an otherwise lethargic and disinterested college senior to snap and go on a misogynist rampage.
But I didn’t know it at time. It took me 4 years away from Chuck, away from college, away from masculine incompetence.
I had to realize I was proud to be a man.
I’m not saying what Chuck did was right, or humane, or even exemplary. By no means. However, I am saying men can learn a lesson from Chuck. Rather than passively ignore the gender differences between men and women, celebrate them. It doesn’t have to be misogynist or disrespectful or even crude, but acknowledge that differences between men and women exist. Be grateful for it.
“The Vagina Monologues” are great because it allows women an open forum to discuss womanhood. As men, we should do the same. All-too-often men just assume they know what it means to be a man, which they don’t. Outlets for men to celebrate being men are few and far in between, which is why renegade heroes like Chuck the Penis Pill Popper are applauded behind closed stalls.
Be okay with your manhood, Chuck the Penis Pill Popper wouldn’t want it any other way.
>>>To Learn More From Rob, Check Out “The 4 Elements of Game” where he breaks down game into four simple adjustments.
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About Rob J. Rob J. is a writer and dating instructor in New York City. Themes that resonate in both his teaching and writing are masculinity, genuineness, rational self-interest, and general awesomeness.