Tribute to the Penis

[ertas23]

Maybe this thread needs to be somewhere else or just plain forgotten. But, many, many years ago my cousins and I overheard our uncles talking and laughing about a Willie Nelson scripted poem. My one uncle had written it down and he read it to the other four uncles (including my father) when they were off having a beer in private (part of the family were teetotalers so it had to be done stealthily). Four of us cousins were all same age and we laughed when we heard it (because they all did) but we didn't really "get it". Uncle Les wadded up his scripting and threw it in the trash bin. Of course, I being the "gay" nephew-cousin (unknown by anyone) retrieved it.

Still have it to this day - found it in a "keep box" my mother asked me to come get as she was cleaning out clutter. I found it, looked it up on the internet and sure enough, it really was written by (or is attributed to) Willie Nelson. Thought I'd share it and wondered if others know of such Tributes. Sad thing is, it's beginning to look like he was simply expressing a reality for all men - or at least it's beginning to become my reality. Anyway, here it is:

WillieNelson

The Penis Poem–by Willie Nelson

My nookie days are over,
My pilot light is out.
What used to be my sex appeal,
Is now my water spout.
Time was when, on its own accord,
From my trousers it would spring.
But now I’ve got a full time job,
To find the gosh darn thing.
It used to be embarrassing,
The way it would behave.
For every single morning,
It would stand and watch me shave.
Now as old age approaches,
It sure gives me the blues.
To see it hang its little head,
And watch me tie my shoes!!​

Just a curios topic I thought might be fun and/or interesting to discuss. (Of course, the models won't understand it being in their prime and all...)

 

[peterh6308]

That's so cute, thanks for sharing....

 

[mikeyank]

Thanks Ertas. I'd never heard of this Willie Nelson creation before. Luckily for me at age 65, everything is still in working order. It doesn't get as much use as in my younger days, but it still functions as it should and is still my favorite toy!!!

You know all about "boys" and their "toys".

 

[Buckeye1]

Is THIS the front porch? lol

 

[Ambivalent]

Dear Ertas -

I grew up in the sticks. . . and the company I kept wasn't all that sophisticated. I did have this Cute-'n-Cool junior-high-school friend, you see, on whom I had a giant crush. . . and we rode the school bus together. He had feathered hair, and let me wear his leather jacket (with a rabbit's foot on the zipper-pull) a few times (not one of my 5,372 fetishes, but I did love having the smell of him, close to me); he took me for a couple of rides on his motorcycle, which he rode unlicenced and totally illegally (I loved clinging onto him). . . and he did CATCH me once, on the bus (that being the era when guys wore shirts with flared lapels, unbuttoned right down the breastbone) STARING at his chest - - - and he said, scowling, "What the hell are YOU LOOKING at, A???"

Anyway. . . . this kid was quite a rabble-rouser, who delighted in getting a rise out of anyone in authority. (He got a lot of rises, out of ME, which neither he nor I really INTENDED.) One day, on the way home from school, just to piss the bus-driver off, he started singing, at the top of his lungs - roughly to the tune of the chorus of: "We all live in a Yellow Submarine":

"Everybody loves. . .my BIG DINK, my BIG DINK, my BIG RED DINK! Everybody loves. . . MY BIG DINK,
MY BIG DINK, MY BIG RED DINK. . . Everybody loves. . . MY BIG DINK, MY BIG DINK, MY BIG RED DINK!!!!"(The coda - - - howled to the tune of nothing in particular, was - - - "It's REALLY BIG AND. . . RED!")

And, Ertas, that was the entire song. Mr. Cute-'n-Cool just kept singing/shouting it, over and over - while the bus driver scowled at him. At about the 10th stanza, Mr. Cute-'n-Cool (we were both 13 at the time) lit up a cigarette right on the bus (I was shocked) and the bus-driver said, "OK, that's IT, C - you're outta here!", and dumped him off at the side of the road, three miles from his stop. And we could still hear him defiantly lauding his "BRD" in song, as the bus chugged down the road.

Ertas, I have no idea why Mr. Cute-'n-Cool wanted to get up the bus-driver's nose SO MUCH that afternoon. . . but I have to say, it really, really, boned me. . . and when I got home, I ran to the bathroom, locked myself in, and jacked off like a little FIEND.

True story,
"A" XOXOXOXOXOXO

P.S. I later told my sisters the story of Mr. Cute-'n-Cool's "BRD" song, and they laughed their HEADS OFF. Sometimes, when we are in silly moods, we still all sing it together - LOL!

P.P.S. Mr. C. and I had this desperate, scrawny, starved-looking, weaselly little friend who also sat with us on the bus. . . who was always eating up all the girls on the bus, with his mildly bloodshot eyes. And he had a special crush, on this girl, Tammy. One day, when he was especially worked-up, the little weasel-kid leaned over and sort of panted in my ear: "A. . .A. . .A. . . when I see that girl. . . that Tammy. . . I wish my cock was a switchblade, so I could just touch it, and it'd go ZINGGGG!!!

Oh Ertas . . . the joys of a rural childhood. . . .

 

[Ambivalent]

And now, for something completely different. . . and just a little bit more urbane, than the preceding arctic redneck recollections (and I can't believe no one's mentioned this already, in this context!). . .

Here is Monty Python's "Penis Song", from The Meaning of Life . . .

With apologies to Sir Noël Coward,
"A" ))))

 

[mikeyank]

Dear Ertas -

I grew up in the sticks. . . and the company I kept wasn't all that sophisticated. I did have this Cute-'n-Cool junior-high-school friend, you see, on whom I had a giant crush. . . and we rode the school bus together. He had feathered hair, and let me wear his leather jacket (with a rabbit's foot on the zipper-pull) a few times (not one of my 5,372 fetishes, but I did love having the smell of him, close to me); he took me for a couple of rides on his motorcycle, which he rode unlicenced and totally illegally (I loved clinging onto him). . . and he did CATCH me once, on the bus (that being the era when guys wore shirts with flared lapels, unbuttoned right down the breastbone) STARING at his chest - - - and he said, scowling, "What the hell are YOU LOOKING at, A???"

I love your recollections of your youth Ambi and your apparently straight buddy who let you wear his leather jacket and caught you staring at his chest. In fact it sounds more like my fetishes than yours, so perhaps we both have some deep-seated desires for the macho young straight guys from our youth. I can recall the guy I hero worshiped, who was a beautiful blonde angelic looking guy who did not play football, but became a manager on the high school team, and was given a leather football jacket. I wanted to wear it and smell the armpits, so perhaps we do share some fetishes from our youths. lol

 

[Ambivalent]

I love your recollections of your youth Ambi and your apparently straight buddy who let you wear his leather jacket and caught you staring at his chest. In fact it sounds more like my fetishes than yours, so perhaps we both have some deep-seated desires for the macho young straight guys from our youth. I can recall the guy I hero worshiped, who was a beautiful blonde angelic looking guy who did not play football, but became a manager on the high school team, and was given a leather football jacket. I wanted to wear it and smell the armpits, so perhaps we do share some fetishes from our youths. lol

*************************************************

Thanks, Mike - I'm glad you enjoyed the story. . . and (BTW) I was painfully in love with Mr. Cute-'n-Cool from the age of six, until we went to high school. We grew up on neighbouring farms, and always went to each other's birthdays, had sleepovers (!!!), and were generally "best friends".

As he got a little older, and we got into junior high school, he started going on the BAD BOY track - - - while I was resolutely the good little churchgoing laddie. His parents allowed him to do all sorts of things which were strictly disallowed, to me - most notably, owning and riding motorcycles, which was ILLEGAL for him, as a young teenager. My strict Scottish Mother thoroughly disapproved of him, and always said - "Just wait till the Mounties CATCH HIM!" But it was so far back in the country, they never did! (Some people are so lucky, that way. . . they just never get caught!)

And of course, he was the prototypical "bad boy", as a young teen - from 12 and 13 on, he smoked, drank beer, and listened to rock-'n-roll: all that stuff!!! I don't know why he acted up so much in school, and on the bus, and so on. . . his parents were really nice people, and nice to HIM - he really had very little to rebel AGAINST. (But of course, my VERY strict Scottish Mother always said, "AHA, A - that's the REASON - they SPOIL HIM - that's why he's so BAD. Now, A - go practice the piano! *No rock-'n-roll allowed at MY HOUSE, Mike!*

When it came right down to it, though, Mike, Mr. Cute-'n-Cool really WASN'T the bad boy he pretended to be. Yes, he acted up a lot in class (and sometimes out of class) but really, he was a sweetheart. Very straight, he was never the kind of guy to "play girls" or sleep around, even up to the end of high school - he always stuck with one girl. Very romantically, and faithfully.

To me, in retrospect, he was a very sweet, kind, and even loving friend. Because I was always the good little church-boy who wouldn't rebel, and a piano student, and a singing student, and a kid who took lessons in rhetoric, and the perpetual teacher's pet, and skipped a grade. . . I got bullied quite a bit by older boys. . . especially after I skipped. But Mr. C-'n-C always treated me like a brother, and always stuck up for me. And kept treating me as a friend, even as we got older, started taking different classes in high school, and our interests diverged. He always called me by the diminutive form of my first name, which only my Mom and Dad and sisters, and Mr. K.K. now, are allowed to use. . .

Mike, though I absolutely had the hots for him, I guess my fondest memories of him go way back to when we were both six, and he came over for my birthday, and I got this amazing spaceship-set, that required BUILDING. Of course, I was hopeless at that kind of stuff - but he built it FOR ME, and let me make up the STORIES about what all the spacemen were doing. Just a really, really, sweet guy: a little rough around the edges, maybe, but really sweet.

************************************************** *******************

As far as fetishes, well. . . as you know, my friends call me "the man of a THOUSAND fetishes" - LOL. I bet we might have a lot of them, in common! And, for sure, I crushed on and LOVED straight guys, in my youth. In elementary and junior high-school, Mr. Cute-'n-Cool. In high-school, my adoring (and adored) best friend, P. In undergrad - nobody - I was working too hard! In grad school, Danny. . . oops, but he turned out to be gay - so that's where the chain is broken. . . LOL!

What I can say is, that I am VERY focused, and VERY selective. (In this way, maybe I think a little more like a GIRL!) But for sure, every PART of a guy I have a crush on, and everything he DOES - becomes a fetish for me. Down to a microscopic level.

Maybe the difference between us is (I dunno?) I have never been fussy about whether a guy was straight or gay. In my past - growing up in an isolated rural environment, with the nearest friend five miles away. . . and later on at uni, isolated by the need to study hard and succeed in school. . . ANY CUTE GUY who took an interest in me, and was KIND to me. . . I pretty much loved. Some of them were straight; some of them were gay - - - I guess the proportion was about 60/40, straight-to-gay. So, I certainly DO appreciate cute straight guys, for sure! But their straightness neither makes nor breaks the deal for me. . . what matters is (to be honest) the cuteness, and the kindness.

"A" XOXOXOXOXOXO

 

[tampa24]

"Everybody loves. . .my BIG DINK, my BIG DINK, my BIG RED DINK! Everybody loves. . . MY BIG DINK,
MY BIG DINK, MY BIG RED DINK. . . Everybody loves. . . MY BIG DINK, MY BIG DINK, MY BIG RED DINK!!!!"(The coda - - - howled to the tune of nothing in particular, was - - - "It's REALLY BIG AND. . . RED!")

And, Ertas, that was the entire song. Mr. Cute-'n-Cool just kept singing/shouting it, over and over - while the bus driver scowled at him. At about the 10th stanza, Mr. Cute-'n-Cool (we were both 13 at the time) lit up a cigarette right on the bus (I was shocked) and the bus-driver said, "OK, that's IT, C - you're outta here!", and dumped him off at the side of the road, three miles from his stop. And we could still hear him defiantly lauding his "BRD" in song, as the bus chugged down the road.

Ertas, I have no idea why Mr. Cute-'n-Cool wanted to get up the bus-driver's nose SO MUCH that afternoon. . . but I have to say, it really, really, boned me. . . and when I got home, I ran to the bathroom, locked myself in, and jacked off like a little FIEND.

True story,
"A" XOXOXOXOXOXO

That is a funny story Ambi. I can also see why, as a closeted teenager, it would get you all worked up. lol

 

[tampa24]

HEy Ambi,

I really enjoyed reading your memories of school days and your youth. It put a smile on my face. Thanks!

 

[Ambivalent]

HEy Ambi,

I really enjoyed reading your memories of school days and your youth. It put a smile on my face. Thanks!

************************************

Kisses, Tamps -

You know, I grew up in the hometown of a very famous Canadian author, who said: "EVERYONE's story is, by definition, interesting. If it isn't interesting to you. . . then you are either not very curious, or not a very good WRITER." I feel the same way.

We all have our stories, thousands of them, which are so fascinating. Mine LEAST of all. . . but I love both to tell mine, and to hear others'. Because these stories are, miraculously, both the form and SUBSTANCE of our lives. . . embracing both poetry and prose, and (from time to time, as Walter Pater, Oscar Wilde's hero, suggested): ascending to the condition of MUSIC.

I love and cherish all the stories each one of you tells me: and, of course, I wish for love and a happy ending, for all our beloved friends, here.

Kisses,
"A" XOXOXOXOXOXO

 

[ertas23]

Dear Ertas -

I grew up in the sticks. . . and the company I kept wasn't all that sophisticated. I did have this Cute-'n-Cool junior-high-school friend, you see, on whom I had a giant crush. . . and we rode the school bus together. He had feathered hair, and let me wear his leather jacket (with a rabbit's foot on the zipper-pull) a few times (not one of my 5,372 fetishes, but I did love having the smell of him, close to me); he took me for a couple of rides on his motorcycle, which he rode unlicenced and totally illegally (I loved clinging onto him). . . and he did CATCH me once, on the bus (that being the era when guys wore shirts with flared lapels, unbuttoned right down the breastbone) STARING at his chest - - - and he said, scowling, "What the hell are YOU LOOKING at, A???"

Anyway. . . . this kid was quite a rabble-rouser, who delighted in getting a rise out of anyone in authority. (He got a lot of rises, out of ME, which neither he nor I really INTENDED.) One day, on the way home from school, just to piss the bus-driver off, he started singing, at the top of his lungs - roughly to the tune of the chorus of: "We all live in a Yellow Submarine":

"Everybody loves. . .my BIG DINK, my BIG DINK, my BIG RED DINK! Everybody loves. . . MY BIG DINK,
MY BIG DINK, MY BIG RED DINK. . . Everybody loves. . . MY BIG DINK, MY BIG DINK, MY BIG RED DINK!!!!"(The coda - - - howled to the tune of nothing in particular, was - - - "It's REALLY BIG AND. . . RED!")

And, Ertas, that was the entire song. Mr. Cute-'n-Cool just kept singing/shouting it, over and over - while the bus driver scowled at him. At about the 10th stanza, Mr. Cute-'n-Cool (we were both 13 at the time) lit up a cigarette right on the bus (I was shocked) and the bus-driver said, "OK, that's IT, C - you're outta here!", and dumped him off at the side of the road, three miles from his stop. And we could still hear him defiantly lauding his "BRD" in song, as the bus chugged down the road.

Ertas, I have no idea why Mr. Cute-'n-Cool wanted to get up the bus-driver's nose SO MUCH that afternoon. . . but I have to say, it really, really, boned me. . . and when I got home, I ran to the bathroom, locked myself in, and jacked off like a little FIEND.

True story,
"A" XOXOXOXOXOXO

P.S. I later told my sisters the story of Mr. Cute-'n-Cool's "BRD" song, and they laughed their HEADS OFF. Sometimes, when we are in silly moods, we still all sing it together - LOL!

P.P.S. Mr. C. and I had this desperate, scrawny, starved-looking, weaselly little friend who also sat with us on the bus. . . who was always eating up all the girls on the bus, with his mildly bloodshot eyes. And he had a special crush, on this girl, Tammy. One day, when he was especially worked-up, the little weasel-kid leaned over and sort of panted in my ear: "A. . .A. . .A. . . when I see that girl. . . that Tammy. . . I wish my cock was a switchblade, so I could just touch it, and it'd go ZINGGGG!!!

Oh Ertas . . . the joys of a rural childhood. . . .

Ambi - I totally missed this until this point when I was scrolling down and saw the "green light". I was embarrassed I posted it - no one responded but I thought it was an interesting post.

You have the best stories and the most amazing writing style for sharing them. They are exquisite and get more intriguing sentence by sentence or for certain, paragraph to paragraph. So, like many others have stated, I, too, wish to express my thanks to you for sharing so many rich life experiences and putting them in the perspective of rich memories that have shaped who you are. I certainly enjoy the gift of entertaining us forum members.

I must say, though, I have that song stuck in my head. It won't come out as "Yellow Submarine" ever again, I fear. Won't be singing that one to my grand kids!! I'll have to stick with John Lennon's "Imagine" - keeping in mind the white everything that was the set for that video - no "red" allowed.

My summers were spent on my grandparents' farm (from age 4-14). My Scottish McCrill)-German (Erdmann) grandmother held the reigns very tightly but my Welsh-English grandfather was a gentle story teller who had more influence over me and my life perspectives than did my own father. He was like Aesop in telling me tales and parables for life direction - sometimes Jesus-like and other times like the devil. He used to say that Jesus sat on his right shoulder and the devil on his left. I asked him once which had the most influence but he just grinned and would not answer.

Just one mile down the road from the farm was the farm of one of my uncles. He was a huge dairy farmer and had a huge herd of Holsteins that he raised by breeding his best milkers. My cousin (his son) and I were together every day - working the farm mostly (I walked down the road every day by 5AM for my aunts big breakfast then my job was to wash the cow's teats with that horrible brown cream before the milkers were attached. My cousin and I would have two hours off once the milking was done and we'd go horseback riding, stop at the swimming hole for a dip, return to get on the wagon behind the tractor and baler and throw bales into stacks then go back and send them up the conveyor belt to the hay loft. Then lunch fit for a king and his court (Auntie was an incredible cook). Then we had siesta time followed by more chores.

One day (I've never told this story before) were were in the barn spreading fresh hay into the troughs that had just been conveyor belted into the manure spreader which my uncle had driven out to the fields. He and I finished our chore then were off to visit twin calves that had been born two days before and were kept separate in a small pen in the barn. My cousin said, look, they're hungry (the mom was in the fields grazing) and put out a finger and they sucked away. Then he did something I'd never in my life thought could happen. Yep, he pulled out his dick (we were 13 that year) and put it under the fence board and the calves came up and one started sucking him. The other one was baying at the fence so he said, give it yours. Shocked but obliging I did. Bestiality was not something I'd ever heard of but those calves sucked us both off in about one minute! Never happened again. I asked him how often he'd done that and he told me he'd done it with the last calf before these two came along. (I don't recall what my thoughts were about him - this very academic, fairly quiet kid - except that he rose in the adventuresome, daring categories in my mind!) When we swam it was skinny dipping. I'd never seen him hard and (having already had sex with several guys back home) I was worried I'd get hard next time we went for our morning swim. Thankfully, that never happened. I knew he was straight as an arrow so I guess that kept me from being aroused after seeing him hard.

I'm wondering if I should be embarrassed at recalling and sharing that story. But, I'm not - I just remembered he was 14 - April birthday - and I wasn't 14 until the fall's October arrived. God, that was 50 years ago this summer. My Golden Anniversary of adventuring for the one time into bestiality! That was the last year I went to the farms. The next three summers were taken up in the pool as a water safety instructor and lifeguard - and the opportunity to strut my stuff around the pool in my speedos. There's always been a bit of an exhibitionist side to me. Oh, for the good old days!

Now, I'm going to go and watch my copy of Monty Python's Meaning of Life!! Thanks again, Ambi! I forgot all about the penis song!!

 

[mikeyank]

I'm wondering if I should be embarrassed at recalling and sharing that story. But, I'm not - I just remembered he was 14 - April birthday - and I wasn't 14 until the fall's October arrived. God, that was 50 years ago this summer. My Golden Anniversary of adventuring for the one time into bestiality! That was the last year I went to the farms. The next three summers were taken up in the pool as a water safety instructor and lifeguard - and the opportunity to strut my stuff around the pool in my speedos. There's always been a bit of an exhibitionist side to me. Oh, for the good old days!

I see no reason for you to be embarrassed Ertas. You are telling us what really happened. You were 13 and following the lead of your older cousin. It's all a part of your life's history, and it is what it is, or was.

 

[Beth]

Thanks for sharing Ambi!
Just this morning I was waking Steve up and said, "I love you." He said, "I love you too." I told him I was talking to his dick!