Meat Bingo
That’s one of the flyers posted at my 7-11. In giant letters, it says “Meat Bingo!” and then gives details on location* and how much it costs to get in ($20, if you’re interested). Apparently, the bingo prizes are various cuts of meat. Although that wasn’t what I was thinking when I saw the flyer. I was thinking, “That’s be a great title for my book about dating escapades.”
‘Cause, you know, MEAT.
And the randomness of Bingo.
You can’t really predict penis size, much as we all like to check hands and feet and noses. You might get a good guess on length, but not on circumference. And let’s face it, there’s a reason “pencil dick” is an insult. So getting naked – playing Meat Bingo – with your partner is the best way to find out. This stresses some men out. They worry that they’re not large enough. Or thick enough. Or whatever. Even if they don’t exactly worry about it, a lot of men would tell you that they wished to be a bit longer. Or thicker. Or whatever.
And much like the silliness of women hating their boobs, this is usually a waste of time. Most men are plenty big enough to reach the G-spot (is the penis at least as big as the index finger?) so why stress? Sure, many women have an ideal version of the penis that they may fantasize about – just like man fantasize about the perfect boobs or the perfect butt. Yet when you get right down to it, skill and chemistry are way more important to great sex than penis (or boob) size.
Besides, if you have enough great sex with someone, his penis becomes the ideal. And then you’ve won Meat Bingo.
*I guess the local church people sponsoring this event do not have dirty minds like I do.






As a fairly average “grower”, I have to say I rather like mine as it is. It’s never gotten caught in a zipper, and I don’t have to decide which pant leg to route it down. I like to think of it as the travel model – conveniently sized for storage, but packs the same punch.
Perhaps the perfect size depends on who you’re trying to get in the sack. I have no idea how size effects getting a woman to give you a chance – I’m not one, nor do I sleep with them. The nervous, and often first-time, gay boys I like bed, though, have been fervent worshipers of all six inches – and thanked God he stopped at that.