Got a dumpy dick? Wimpy weiner? Gimpy glans? Well good news, my weak-nethered friend - the Internet has a solution! Just spend a few excruciating months strapping medieval torture devices to your cock, and you might be able to convince your brain you've gained an inch! We're not talking about some bullshit pseudoscience pills. This is real science, agonizingly detailed science, complete with incredibly uncomfortable testimonials to prove it!
PeGym has it all: Blogs, guides, and articles, which might all actually be the same thing, and forums, where you can go and chat with your disappointingly endowed brethren. Let's... ugh, let's look at an article. I guess. Oh hey, there are articles on dick nutrition and diet. Wait, there are no results when you click on that. Wonderful. Well, "penis in the news." That will at least be amusing! Alright, that's just about when male enhancement product ads appear in men's magazines. Blogs it is, I guess. Goddammit.
Refresh the page for a new amazing ad every time!
Hmm. All of these are depressing articles about having to hang in there (no pun intended) because your dick increases only by increments. The summaries are bumming me the fuck out. Ugh. I really don't want to click the forums. So ... let's check the non-dickchat forum, The Gym. Let's see what these guys talk about when it's not tearing their erectile tissue. The discussion seems to focus on dicks, sports, and atheism. Makes sense, I guess. I dunno!
Here's something. Forum user beef supreme, whose name is clearly a lie, posted a thread about his worst penis-enlargement disaster, which was apparently when he wiped his dick off with disinfectant his mom uses. What to take away from that: beef supreme stretches his dick and lives with his mom.
Thanks for joining me on this magical misery tour into the minds of the mirthless girthless! I'm going to stop now, because despite massive ego boosts, I'm beginning to feel incredibly depressed. And so, I bid you all a meek adieu, as I must begin praying to every mythological god, in hopes that I never have to suffer through this again.
Sometimes I dream that I'm sitting in the back of the defunct Weinermobile as it careens driverless down the highway. At first I thought this was symbolic of the powerlessness I feel in life, but then I realized it's actually the Weinermobile's dream of being able to drive again.
Three years ago, when we were burying my uncle, Cleaver and some gross lady dog (Solstice???) showed up at the cemetery and starting going at it really loudly. It ruined everything and we had to have a "re-do" the next day and it cost a fortune. I've hated him ever since for that.
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