Monday, January 02, 2006

SB Day: Don’t want no short dick man.

It’s Smart Bitches Day once again and despite having many things to go on (and on) about I have a finite amount of time so I thought I would tackle a sizable subject when it comes to romance novels: penis length.

A subject of great importance to be sure, and one—in the romance community—that can be summed up by the lyrics of the 20 Fingers song, “Short Dick Man:”

Don't want no short dick man

Don't want no short dick man

Don't want no short dick man

Don't want no short dick man

Don't, don't, don't, don't, don't, don't
Don't, don't, don't, don't

Don't want, don't want, don't want, don't want

Don't want no short dick man

Don't want no short dick man

Iny weeny teeny weeny
Shriveled little short dick man


My questionable music taste aside, the song seems to get right to the idea that size not only does matter, but bigger is better.

And in the romance community we’re talking baseball bat size.

In real life faced with a man with a bat down his pants I think that my ‘giny would go “eek, eek, eek,” all the way home. In fantasy Romancelandia ten inches seems to be the norm, leading me to believe there should be a lot more ladies walking bowlegged in the morning. Not only is the hero bigger in every way, but he’s bigger and better than anything the heroine has ever had, and his ginormous love thang is going to rev her womanly button like nothing else.

For the sake of fantasy let’s completely disregard the fact that the ongoing Olympic gymnastic trails she’s performing with his man rod are going to cause some major discomfort. Of course she can totally follow up her dancing on his pole by using an over-endowed sex toy (*cough* ShelleyBradley’s newestbook *cough*) right after she’s LOST HER VIRGINITY! The female vagina is elastic and giving. It accepts all large penies, unless the penises in question belong to the villain or the man who just isn’t right for her, and then we’re talking incapability city and pain. Mucho pain. But not because of his size, ‘cause you see these two examples would have major cases of the aforementioned short dick man syndrome.

There has only been one instance in all my years of reading romance novels where the heroine was watching the hero shuck his clothes in preparation for the horizontal boogie, and thought to herself, “I’ve had bigger, but this one is just right.” Okay, maybe not in those exact words, I think she thought about her ex being bigger but sex with her ex hurting, but the sentiment was the same.

I really wish I could remember the title or the author. I remember being absolutely shocked that the editor let that thought stay in. Oh my Gawd, he’s not the biggest she’s ever had? It’s how you use it? Say it ain’t so!

What scares me is that size seems to increase equally to the heat of the love scene. Tame vanilla love and we’re not told inches and girth. Ratcheting up the scale to a simmer maybe we find out that she can’t circle him with her fingers (but after the author has gone on and on about how small her hands are I don't know if this is a great endorsement or model for measurement). Ringing the bell at erotic a la Lisa Valdez’s Passion and suddenly we’ve got a guy who doesn’t need a bat to play cricket.

Cri-kee. He’s a laaaaaaarge one.

And has anyone noticed that with an increase in size, so comes (get it, heh, heh) an increase in fluid production? Not only are these men human tripods, but they could single-handedly fertilize every female between the ages of 15 and 55 in the Dominican Republic with one mighty orgasm (a non-tantric one of course).

Perhaps I’m just being overly sensitive. Maybe after sampling some of his hunka, hunka burning love rod, I too will cherish his girth, technique and my newly stretched pelvis. Bowleggedness aside, and all.

14 comments:

Bonnie said...

Reality: the smallest man I've been with has been the best in bed. :)

Also, speaking of baseball bats - the Claudia Rose "Aliens" EC novel I deplore, loathe, revile with a burning passion that has spanned the course of three years, features a baseball-bat-sized-schlong - literally, Ms./Mr. Rose uses the words "baseball bat." That book also stresses midget sex as hot, too. Just fyi.

DO NOT READ THIS BOOK

Bonnie said...

Sorry, "Alien Games."

Blech. Ugh. Ptoohey. Ick. Etc.

Kate R said...

Baseball bat? And I'm not supposed to run out and buy this book you say?

What a great SBD, BSC!

Bonnie said...

DO NOT BUY THIS BOOK

get a pirated copy or something. Do not give that author your money. MIDGETS, man, MIDGETS!

Michele said...

Oh, I am rollin' after reading this one. What a great post!

The funny thing about your post, is that (psst,I can't say this anywhere else) these stories which promote the big, bad, lightening rod are actually feeding into the male psyche's overfocused concern with penis envy. Men WANT to be that big, and its BIG business to sell men all those lovely "devices" to enhance length, girth ..whatever. They have the Stallion Models, the Ninja models.....The ..*ahem* cock rings.... They shell out millions a year. For what? If they were to get curious and read the books you mentioned, then they'd be feeling typecast..much the way they've done to us with breast size. Glorifying body parts irrelevent to the person they're attached to. So, in a way, are we getting the males back for centuries of boob fixation or are we tapping into and exploiting their own nureorsis??
If we are, then I say it's about time.
Paybacks a bitch!! **evil snicker**

Terri said...

LOL! This is hilarious! Ahem... everyone knows it's not size, it's technique that counts, right? Right?

Bookseller Chick said...

Bonnie, I'm sensing some sort of antagonism against midgets. Perhaps this book highlighted some underlying midget hatred that you never knew you had. Are you prejudiced against the vertically challenged?

All kidding aside, I'll avoid the book. Midgets have never really done it for me (nor have men under 5'10" come to think of it), and I've learned to choose, but choose wisely when it comes to buying Ellora's Cave books (something I'll have to chronicle on a later SB day). The title alone scares me.

Kate, were you referencing my talk of the baseball bats or Bonnie's? Because if you want midget sex you can always check out the Hamilton Merry Gentry series (or not, I suggest not), or several easily viewable (if you pony up your credit card) sites on the web.

Michele, I think you're right. There is an element of getting one back for the years of having small breasts looked down upon. Still when I have a book telling me that a guy is ten inches or more, I admit to a.) getting out a ruler and measuring and b.) doing the math for the girth to then c.) wince for the poor heroine involved (who is always small and petite).

Bookseller Chick said...

Terri, you know that and I know that, but the buying romance public apparently doesn't want to hear that (or that's what the publishing world is trying to tell us).

jarvenpa said...

Oh dear; you have me laughing, because you are so right. There was the year I read 200 Harlequins before burning them in the woodstove (we were out of wood, you see) and discovered the 6 plots (there are only 6 plots in Harlequins). But in Harlequins there aren't any schlongs at all, not stated as such...
But in what we term the bodice rippers, yes. (and you didn't mention the other common trope--the "no other woman fully encompassed and delighted him" thing. Valley of the Horses (we won't talk about the Horses)...
My sweetie once wrote porn by the page (before he met me)and yes, it tended to the empurpled and huge members.
What has bewildered me is that all this emphasis on parts seems much more male oriented--while it is still the gentle ladies who buy these books.

Bookseller Chick said...

jarvenpa, I thought about going into that, but I was operating under a time crunch. My old roommate was in town, and we were both starving, so when choosing between food or blogging about the way she fit him perfectly for the first time, I chose food. You're right about the HPs. Size they don't mention, not like the rippers of the bodice (and given the cost of clothing in ye olden days you think they would have been more careful), of said category Passion definitely falls into with great force (hmm, or maybe it thrusts...it's just that she fits him like no woman before...). Personally I think that some way, some how men are getting their hands on these. They gotta. Why else would large members be the norm?

Douglas Hoffman said...

Midget sex is hot, Bonnie. Just ask my wife ;o)

Kate R said...

okay but I just found a GREAT ebook about a circus freak. I was in the mood for something like it and so maybe loved it too much. Bone Deep at Liquid Silver, in case the link doesn't work. Mrs Giggles liked it too, and we don't usually like the same books. (Why, oh, WHY did I send her mine, then?)

Bookseller Chick said...

Oh, I wanted to read that one. It did sound good. And you sent her your novel because you have faith in your writing, Kate.

Kate R said...

no, actually because her rant inspired the story.

But thanks for the Daily Moment of Confidence Building.