Who Needs the Sistine Chapel When You’ve Got My Bathroom Selfies?
They laughed at Picasso, they scoffed at Dali, and now they shake their heads at my masterpieces
Over the past year, I’ve taken it upon myself to send unsuspecting women no fewer than 365 uniquely personalized pieces of art. I’m practically the Van Gogh of penis portraiture — and my “Starry Night” is in your DMs.
It’s a well-known fact that receiving an unexpected pic of my manhood is the highlight of a lady’s day. It’s like Christmas morning, but better because it’s more personal, and it happens more than once a year.
What’s that? You didn’t ask for my dick pics? Let me inform you that true artists don’t wait to ravage the beholder with unsolicited greatness. Did Michelangelo ask consent from every single person before they witnessed the Sistine Chapel’s ceiling? Did Pablo Picasso bow to the rigid expectations of his era?
In ancient times, sending a sculpted representation of one’s genitalia was a noble gesture of trust and respect. The Greeks, known for their intellectual prowess and artistic finesse, were also pioneers in the art of scrotum sculpting. When a man sought to woo a lady, he would gift her a marble statue of his genitalia. Women would scrutinize their suitors’ penises and choose…
