Like a dick pic that runs out of the room

How’s that for click bait (or aversion therapy)? Read on, or not. I understand. Obvious CW apply.

My mate and I were sharing sexual awakening stories, as ya do. Well, I don’t, usually, and I felt vaguely horrified and mentally exposed. I kept saying, but do you want to hear the most disgusting part? Knowing full well that he is germ phobic these days, despite (or perhaps because of) all the revolting things he got up to as a lad. I kept looking over at his screwed up face and laughing, then telling him more, and feeling exactly the way his face looked.

Finally I couldn’t take it any more, and we changed the subject. Relief all round. Talked about food instead. And that bloomin’ virus, as ya do.

The first penis I saw was at a neighbour’s house, when my now-deceased friend jumped out of the wardrobe, dropped the towel from his waist and waved everything at me, before running away. We were around nine years old and I had never experienced such a bewildering performance before. I couldn’t grasp his motivation, let alone what he expected of me. But I was there to play, so I found someone else to play with and we never spoke of it.

When I heard of his death, this was the first thing I remembered, and I didn’t tell a soul. It was him to a T, but I tried to come up with something more dignified to share in the memory book. There was the time we crawled around together on the lawn, pretending to be cows, grazing the grass. The time he told me my house had burned down in the bushfires, during lunch break at school (it hadn’t). Beyond that I had nothing, so said nothing, while the memory of his penis exposure played on a loop, like a dick pic that runs out of the room.

That’s not what I was telling my mate about though. Oh no. Those stories are not being told again. And I don’t want to give him more ideas for ways to make me laugh during tv commercial breaks. But I took your mind off current events for a minute or two, hey? Distraction’s a useful tool. As was my now-deceased friend, it has to be said. RIP, you ratbag.

13 thoughts on “Like a dick pic that runs out of the room”

    1. Yes! Shame I couldn’t come up with anything. I talk with him in my head though. Not a lot of help to his family, but I enjoy it.


  1. I can see the 9 year old now. People who knew your friend as you did would like the story. And yes, you tell the stories to a real partner. I knew his and he never asked mine. The little things that let you know you’re not really partners.


  2. You’re a magician. I liked this post just for its title, and because I feel I know you and trust you and I think of you as a friend, and it thus made me laugh inside. I expected something a bit ranty or just ironic, or I don’t know what, always enjoyable here so it hardly mattered, I figured I was going to like it or love it. But this story just surprised in the most smooth and flowing way. It crept in like a tingle and here in my electrified skin it still stays. You write about something that is at once very relatable, somewhat humourous but somewhat dark, in such a way that is light light skimming over a deep jade river. Yikes I’m getting a bit carried away. Anyhoo, you likely get the gist of what I’m trying to say. Your writing is amazing. As are you. Thanks for sharing it, and yourself, with us. 🔆🙏


    1. Each of your comments is like a wee pressie in an Advent calendar. Is that a weird thing to say? Thank you! ❤
      I was a bit apprehensive about the title, given how unpleasant those things can be to receive. Thank you for trusting me and seeing both the dark and light. I really loved this friend and imagine he’d appreciate the irreverence.


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