For the Man with the Erection Lasting More than Four Hours
By John Hodgen
He's supposed to call his doctor, but for now he's the May King with his own Maypole.
He's hallelujah. He's glory hole. The world has more women than he can shake a stick
at. The world is his brickbat, no conscience to prick at, all of us Germans he can ich
lieber dich at. He's Dick and Jane. He's Citizen Kane. He's Bob Dole.
He's Peter the Great. He's a czar. He's a clown car with an extra car.
Funiculi, Funicula. He's an organ donor. He works pro boner. He's folderol.
He's fiddlesticks. He's the light left on at Motel 6. He's free-for-alls.
He's Viagra Falls. He's bangers and mash. He's balderdash. He's a wanker.
He's got his own anchor. He's whack-a-doodle. King Canoodle. He's a pirate, Long John
Silver, walking his own plank. He has science to thank. He's in like Flynn. He's Gunga Din,
holding his breath, cock of the walk through the valley of the shadow of death. He's Icarus,
hickory dickorous, the mouse run up the clock. He's shock and awe. He's Arkansas.
He's the package, the deal, the Good Housekeeping Seal. He's Johnson and Johnson.
He's a god now, the talk of the town. He's got no place to go but down.
Adam had his last morning of working at Hebrew school for the semester and Daniel had yet another end-of-year party in the afternoon and evening, so we planned our schedule around that. After lunch, we went in our new Corolla to Homestead Farm to pick strawberries; it was drizzling as we drove to Poolesville, but it had mostly stopped by the time we got out of the car and had stopped entirely by the time we reached the goat pen. The baby goats were very friendly and happy to eat from our fingers, plus there were ducklings, lambs, chickens, turkeys, and a calf. It's still early in strawberry season but we picked plenty for both a pie and shortcake.
We stopped at a food store to get snacks for Daniel to bring to his party, then came home for a while, got him there, had dinner, and watched The Simpsons (meh) and Family Guy's latest Star Wars installment (even more meh, doesn't hold a candle to Robot Chicken's Star Wars parodies). Then we watched The Borgias season finale, which did not disappoint at all -- everyone pretty much got what they deserved, the official details of history were preserved, and like The Tudors the show remained sympathetic to women and their limited choices.