That's Just The Booze Talking (and I'm Listening and Laughing)

Finally, after hemming and hawing and playing with our wine glass, we blurted out a confession. “I just saw Leonard Maltin’s dong,” we said.**

“Pardon me?”

“The film critic. Leonard Maltin. I saw his dong. He was standing at a nearby urinal and I just had to look.”

“You had to look?”

“Well, how was it? Was it nice?”

...

“Was it nice? I’m not sure how to answer that.”

“I mean, was it trustworthy? Leonard Maltin has a face you can trust. He’s very smiley and seems like he’d be a good next-door neighbor. Like, he’d water your plants when you were on vacation and fetch your mail for you. That’s what I mean....

“Like versus yours. You have a completely untrustworthy penis. If it could get up and walk around on its own, it would probably commit crimes. It just looks like it wants to get into trouble. But Leonard Maltin’s probably isn’t like that at all.”

For the first time in our life, we were struck dumb. We had learned more about our lovely friend and ourselves than what would have been dug up by years of cohabitation and couples therapy. We learned that the woman who regularly allows us to see her naked thinks our dick has criminal tendencies. We also learned that other men’s dicks can be seen as “trustworthy.” And we learned that Leonard Maltin is packing a good eight inches, which is probably the source of that beatific smile of his.

Thank you, Leonard Maltin, for the gift of your unexpectedly large penis.

You know that voice in your head, the one you hear when you’re reading? Yeah, that one? Even with that voice, I never thought I’d hear myself say, “Thank you, Leonard Maltin, for the gift of your unexpectedly large penis.”

Never.