I’m sick of being a woman and having to do all the stuff. My husband sits on his fat backside watching programmes on the Dave channel from morning to night while I slave away in the kitchen like a sweaty, sour-faced scrubber. The only advantage to being a woman is that you get first dibs on the lifeboat, but last time I checked, my house was still on dry land. I’ve decided that the key to happiness is having a willy. How can I grow a penis?
Why on earth would you want to own a willy? For starters, you can easily get it trapped in things, like zips and keyholes and power sockets; and when you wee you have to stand up, meaning your bum must get pretty chilly sometimes. Also, anyone who has a willy has to keep touching it all the time to make sure it hasn’t fallen off, which means doing anything with two hands is difficult. I’ve never seen a willy but I’ve been told they look like a limbless Duncan Goodhew in a shiny balaclava, which is more than a little alarming, and so if one ever comes near me I’ll be sure to squish it with my shoe.
Hope that helps!