Believe it or not, I was asked a few weeks back by my roommate, who is a woman who likes women, whether or not men ever have a cold penis. I actually had to think about it. I mean her reasoning was that men always complain about freezing their balls off, but never about having a cold cock. I literally paused for a while and realized I have never complained to my buddies “man, my snake is shivering”, or said “I’ve got an icy icicle”, or even nervously told my doctor “my bishop is turning blue.” I mean you would have thought I would have at one time told a girl I was dating, on a cold winter day, “God, my little Fink is frigid”.
After a while of deep thought, I couldn’t really come up with specific memories of when my penis was cold. I mean, my fingers get cold every time I touch a drink at a bar. My feet are cold during the winter time in bed and it usually takes a couple of minutes of canoodling, massaging, spooning, caressing, undressing, and probably any other fun thing that you can do with a woman that ends in “ing” for my body to really warm up. The fact that my ears are painfully cold in the winter time is the only reason I wear a hat (I look like a 12 year old in a hat due to youthful face and tiny ears). I guess you can chalk it up to the male body, like any other dumb animal’s body, having built in defense mechanisms. When we are outside in freezing conditions (or if we are thrown into a lake in the summertime as an eleven year old by counselors at a Jewish sleep-away camp who are drunk with power and boredom) the dreaded shrinkage occurs.
Ah yes, shrinkage, the act of the penis shouting “help me, I’m melting” during drastic changes in temperature or when surrounded by water for long periods of time. I’m sure shrinkage exists to protect the penis from the elements and not just because there is a God and he does indeed smoke weed. Ah shrinkage- the physical act that inspired a popular toy in the late ‘70s and ‘80s- the Shrinky Dink. Even the name sounds like shrink dick.
Shrinky Dinks were these plastic sheets that you and your mom would put in the oven and they would shrink down to hard plastic, but retain its original shape. This might be a nurture reason for boys growing up not naturally inclined for cooking. Watching the plastic shrink like that in the oven might have subconsciously reminded us of our already tiny penises getting smaller when we took our forced baths. The Shrinky Dinks (great name for a band) came in images of popular characters of the time like Superman, E.T. or possibly “The Fonze”. Actually, Fonzie is the only man in history to have never experienced shrinkage. That’s how he was able to satisfy the Polaskey twins, Pinky Tuscadaro and thwart the “Malachi Crunch” (another great name for a band) all in one night. Not only did his dick never shrink but it could probably start a ‘57 Chevy and switch the song on the jukebox to “Blueberry Hill” with one quick pelvic thrust.
I remembered the conversation between me and my roommate this past week as I walked home from work in 17 degree weather. I felt the sensation of not only being smacked in the face by the frigid air, but my tallywacker felt like it had been wacked by a popsicle. Anyone in the northeast knows that it’s been unusually cold this past week. I have a ten minute walk home, and it felt so cold that I was literally muttering ”Oh my god. Are you fucking kidding me” out loud while walking through the wind. New York is a walking city, and you know its freezing when you take momentary refuge in the a supermarket on the way home just to warm up your ears and you end up grabbing a pack of gum and a box of Cracklin’ Oat Bran.
On the walk, all I could think about was the fact that my penis was indeed cold and that cold penises mean frostbitten toes. Luckily I have a heat pole in my room which spews out steam that makes my room dry, but on nights like this, it was exactly what I needed to raise my body temperature. The next morning, before I layered up like the little brother in “A Christmas Story”, I was taking a shower and thinking. I get some of my most random thoughts in the shower, usually when I’m singing bad ‘80s songs. Now, I know that I sing horribly out of tune as I’ve been told by my roommate on many an occasion, but to me the acoustics of the shower turn my voice into Bryan Adams, the year into 1985 and a need to express my memories of the summer of '69.
This morning, after almost a week of freezing my ass, balls, feet, ears, Adam’s apple, and finally my penis off, a song came to me. It was the theme song to “The Greatest American Hero” and new lyrics spoke through my mouth as if they had been given to me by the same aliens who gave William Katt his suit. I toweled off quickly and went on Youtube with the song fresh in my head and played the video while matching up my own lyrics to the song. Unfortunately, unlike the fleeting cold sensation in my penis that day, the theme song to the Greatest American Hero is stuck in my head like a bad cold that I can’t quite shake.
Here is my version of the Greatest American Hero theme song. For those of you old enough to remember the show, this should bring back some fine memories of a time when a superhero could have a dorky suit and a blond afro and still be cool.
The Greatest American Zero (Celsius)
Lyrics by Think Fink.
Look at what’s happened to my balls
I can hardly feel them myself
Suddenly I’m starting to look like a girl
It should’ve been somebody else
Believe it or not I have a cold penis
It does not want to hang so freee
It’s shrinking fast in the frigid, cold air
It’s inside of meeee
Believe it or not it’s in meeee
Looks like the chill of a cold day
Hit me and made my balls blue
Breaking me out of the mood I was in,
Making me one freezing sterile Jew.
Believe it or not I have a cold penis
It does not want to hang so freee
It’s shrinking fast in the frigid, cold air
It’s inside of meeee
Believe it or not it’s in meeee
Why can’t I peee?
Believe it or not it’s in meeeee.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e9Q3orQhEcA
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