The Penis Monologues

Whatever happened to that Australian duo who did on-stage origami with their willies? Their act was quite big in its day, but now seems to have shrivelled into obscurity. Apparently, their rubbery appendages could be twisted into most shapes with some dextrous handwork. I always wondered about the off-stage attention they got from their mostly female fans. How does having a celebrity penis affect a man’s sex life? Were girls thrilled at the prospect of being serviced by a famous dick? Or were they repelled by the idea of accommodating an organ they’d just seen impersonate Telly Savalas? I’m damned if I can guess how the sight of a man manipulating his member affects a woman’s libido.

The problem with acts like this is that they depend entirely on their novelty value. However much you dress it up, a penis will never be as versatile as a well-trained seal. It cannot slap its flippers together and bark, nor can it gulp down pieces of raw fish. Balancing a ball on its nose is fiendishly difficult. The public will eventually twig that a stick of rhubarb wearing a false beard could do it just as well.

When someone compared their act unfavourably with The Vagina Monologues, the Australian snake-handlers reacted scornfully.

"It's typical!” one of them sneered. “Women feel the need to talk about it and men just want to play with it!”

It’s a fair point. Unlike Vanessa Vagina, Peter Penis will never be admired for his conversational skills. He’s really a lot like a dog: arguably man’s best friend and certainly eager to please, but prone to overexcitement without proper training. There are said to be women who can make him stand to attention purely with their voices, but they never seem to boast about it. They’re too modest, if you ask me.

Of course, it’s easy to be negative and slate an act without suggesting a better alternative. As a former circus ape, I will admit to enjoying my work with midgets. I bounced them off trampolines, juggled them with my hands and feet, and hurled them at clowns. I loved to see them get the better of the clowns by running between their legs and head-butting their arses. The midgets and I got along like a house on fire, but woe betide any normal-sized human who treated those little terriers with disrespect!

In those days, the world’s number one midget was the Philippino film star Weng Weng. He used to play a spoof James Bond character in movies complete with
ravishing women and low-flying actions stunts. His favourite tactic for dealing with the bad guys was to stamp on their feet and shoot them while they were rubbing their toes. As for the ladies, they would surrender to his cruel lust whenever he gazed darkly into their navels. Being three feet in height, he never needed to go down on a woman because he was already there.

A lot of people worry about midgets being exploited for cheap laughs, but in human society it’s generally those with the healthiest bank balances who laugh loudest. I’d certainly rather watch Weng Weng bite a few ankles than a pair of deformed dongs from Down Under. If I’m going to be entertained by a little prick, I’ll take the one that can do his own dialogue. A montage of Weng Weng’s work is linked

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