“A German cut off his own penis with a kitchen knife to cure his addiction to sex… Police arrived to discover the blood-soaked man, 41, in his apartment and his organ under the kitchen table. Emergency services rushed the man and his penis to a nearby hospital. Police said the man did not want his penis to be reattached.” — Sydney Morning Herald (Australia)

It must really be true that you think with your dick, because once this man had castrated himself, he obviously could no longer think. How else can you explain the fact that he didn’t want his penis reattached? He must have been brain dead, an inanimate skull filled with gray meat instead of thinking matter. Meanwhile the penis was down there on the floor, weeping. “Reattach me! Reattach me!”

Or maybe by the time the penis got to the hospital, it decided it was better off without the man. “What do I need that wet blanket for?” it asked itself. “That old beer gut was blocking my sun. He was strictly a liability in the seduction business. I’m bound to get laid more often without him. Look at all the action dildos get. I can do everything a strap-on can, and I can squirt too.” The penis slips out of the emergency room, leaving a thin trail of blood as it slithers down the street to the local singles bar. It picks up a girl, or rather a girl picks it up, but with no man attached all the blood leaks out the back when she squeezes it. She finds herself holding what looks like a used condom full of ketchup and throws it in the trash with a shudder of disgust.

Lying there amid the bottle caps and pretzel bags, the penis laments its loneliness. “Nobody wants me,” it moans. “I’m the love gun that nobody loves…”

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