Ohhhh...yep....that was my penis.

      

                I hate being in this situation.  It’s happened before, and the result is always the same; it hurts.  This time however something different happened…I had a great epiphany.

                It all started when my bladder was full.  I made haste to the restroom in order to relieve myself.  I was in such a hurry that I paid little attention as to where certain things were placed, and zipped up quite quickly.  That’s when it happened.  I had done the unthinkable.  I zipped my penis into my pant zipper.  Needless to say, I was in a predicament of great proportion (no pun intended). 

                As I stood there in agonizing pain, staring down at my pathetically injured man hood, things began to rush into my head a million miles an hour; experiences I had that may have led to this very moment of self doubt and loathing.

                “Look at yourself”, I said allowed, ”You spend the majority of your time daydreaming of a fantasy that someday you’ll have the one you love yet you can’t even take a proper piss without getting your tally whacker caught in your trousers!” I couldn’t help but agree with myself.  I know that if I were a woman I would not want to invest in a man who cannot even go to the bathroom without causing serious injury.  Even Benjamin Button could go pee pee like a normal person, and he was, for all intensive purposes, a fucking freak.

                “Shouldn’t you be on stage tonight practicing rather than messing about with that pathetic little termite you call a cock?” I said to me.  I was right again, though I could not understand why I was yelling at me in such a hard manner when I could have really used some support right about then.  Never the less, I was right.  Why on Earth am I not in downtown Salt Lake City right now performing and getting stage time?  The epiphany was beginning to come to fruition.

                I remembered an experience I had at a bar months earlier.  I was sitting on the back patio smoking a cigarette.  I man was setting up his guitar getting ready to play.  His dog was laying down beside him in the shade.  When the man sat on the stool, guitar in hand, and approached the microphone, my eyes were amazed!  This man was blind.  His eyes were pure white with scars around them and it was obvious by the harness on his canine companion that this was his helper.  The man began to play his guitar flawlessly, better than I could have ever hoped to play.  The most amazing part was not his ability to play, however it was his smile.  This man did not break smile once.  He was happy, and so was his dog.  They did not have any cares in the world.  It was as if nothing else existed to this man other than music and his dog.  He was having a transcendental experience, like Thoreau floating along Walden Pond, or Siddhartha climbing from Samsara and reaching nirvana.  This man and his dog were at peace, and I now think back on it in envy.  Here I am walking around with a pseudo intellectual ruse, wanting a woman I can’t have, drinking profusely and throwing up in peoples lawns, bitching about how the world owes me just because I can’t afford the new apple product this month, not finishing my homework because I played way too much world of warcraft and thinking it’s not my fault, yelling at myself in my bathroom in a British accent for some fucked up reason, and getting my penis caught in my own zipper…yet this blind man was just happy to be alive!

                As I stared at my sad, injured member looking back on these things the epiphany came.  It wasn’t some philosophical revelation that I need to change, or an "I found God because I almost lost my penis to a prison of copper and denim" type of moment. No.  It was a simple fact that at that very moment I came to except.  I, Brian Nathaniel Pope, do indeed….suck.

“Zzzzzzzzzzziiiiiiiiiiiippppppp!”