Animal Penises Are Super Weird
One of the great things about nature is that everything in it—dogs, flowers, snakes, whales, ants, jellyfish, crabs, toucans, everything—is either eating or trying to fuck at all times. Of the uncountable billions of organisms populating our planet, millions and millions of them are getting it on at this very second. P’s are going into V’s, eggs are being fertilized, the circle of life continues.
You probably didn’t learn very much about the sex lives of animals in school because your poor science teachers had enough to worry about without saying the words “elephant cock” in front of a room of teenagers. But animal sex and the evolved features of animal sex organs are often wonderful things, and there’s no reason that today’s young people shouldn’t learn about the tiny—and sometimes startlingly large—wonders that are animal penises.
So we got some of our contributors together and wrote about animal dicks. If you are excited to learn more about animal sex, we encourage you to watch Isabella Rossellini’s Green Porno series. Or just go to the park and see if you can catch squirrels fucking.
Photo via Flickr user jimg944
Did you emerge from the head of your father’s dick as a fully formed baby? Congratulations, you’re probably a sea horse. Sea-horse females impregnate males during one-night stands and leave them to foster their young without so much as paying child support, like a Beyoncé song in reverse.
Courtship begins when the female and male start scraping their tails along the sea floor. (Hot!) The male has his head tucked into his chest the entire time because he’s a little pussy bitch. The female circles around him, forcing him to pay attention to her colors. Then she grabs him with her tail and penetrates him. (Yesssss…) They swim face to face, locked together, as she excretes up to 600 eggs into his brood pouch. Then she fucks off forever.
After just a few weeks, the male undergoes contractions and finally blasts a bunch of miniature sea horses out of his little sea-horse dick.
Don’t Stick Dominos in Your Dick
I think when most regular citizens imagine a guy going to jail, they figure that the convict will have to do something stupid to prove his mettle to all the gangsters in there. Usually this scenario involves some thirsty new jack wanting to earn his stripes with the Bloods, Crips, Latin Kings, or Aryan Brotherhood by accepting an assignment to cut or stab some rival. In my years in lockup, I saw this a few times, although it was nowhere near as prevalent as one might think. What I did see was a little more shocking.
Prison gangs are somewhat secretive ‘cause you never know who a snitch is, and the authorities frown upon gangs and can discipline someone for being affiliated with one. In New York prisons, the Bloods are public enemy number one, and the pork chops go after them aggressively and punish them as scapegoats for everything that goes wrong. The Latin Kings are historically a Puerto Rican gang, although the lines have blurred in the past decade from what I’ve witnessed. Many Dominicans—and there are a bunch of them—join a gang called the Trinitarios.
For some reason, I am still unable to ascertain, the Trinitarios like to get together in the bathroom and puncture their penises with a little slice and then insert an implant. From what I hear, usually they break off a piece of a domino and insert it up under the foreskin area, or sometimes down closer to the base. In theory, this gruesome procedure is supposed to increase sexual performance, but we always ridicule these fellows, ’cause none of us are gettin’ in that pretty puss-hole in the clink-clink. Truthfully, I’m not sure what good this implant would do. Maybe it’s just an excuse to put another man’s bicho in your hand and jam a foreign object into it?
Pissing into a funnel is not as easy as they make it sound. Not to brag, but I’ve urinated in public places many times in my life and it is far easier than trying to scoop my disgusting snatch into this little purple cone. For the first time in my life I had what is referred to as a “shy bladder,” which momentarily ruined my sense of pride.
Regardless, I found a way to ease my mind into letting me pee. I also refused to take my pants off. You see, peeing out your fly is one of the key attributes of male urination—and of the male gender in general—and something that I have always envied. I’ve pissed on my own clothes so many times in the past that I now have a pretty solid technique when it comes to squatting down and letting my urethra go. My system has been established through much trial and error, and when something as revolutionary as a female urination device is introduced to this system, I need to be able to take the liberty of wearing pants. Otherwise, these technological advances are just playing catch up to the tricks I’ve already taught my vagina.
Great. So here I am pissing beneath the crucifix at the heart of Montreal’s Mount Royal. Why, you ask? Because, as you may have noticed, if you ask any girl who’s worth her weight in tits “What would you do if you were a boy for a day?” she will ALWAYS says, “Pee on _____.” That is what I looked forward to doing most. I have to admit, I see this as a great accomplishment: wearing pants and peeing at the center of a giant crucifix. However, this is still only a small fraction of greatness compared to my dream of being entirely naked and taking a shit at the center of the Vatican.
Anyway, I journeyed on to find a second pissing destination that would really bring out my feverishly repressed internal male ego.