Friends, this is an emergency. A no-joke fucking crisis. The Dick Pic Problem we have, as a nation, is in Stage 5. Code Blue. Zero Fucking Hour. It has reached a fever pitch, and we are, as a species, at Peak Dick. This is not a good place to be. Much press has been given to this issue of late, thankfully bringing to light a scourge that has been largely unrecognized by our non-single ranks for too long. I’m glad people are talking about it, writing about it, complaining about it. But the truth is, it’s not doing one goddamn bit of good.
Too many of our men are broken. Even the ones who READ the articles begging them to stop sending dick pics to unsuspecting women…they don’t stop. It might be – and I know this sounds crazy – that maybe men aren’t the greatest listeners sometimes. Or that they don’t particularly give a shit what we, as women, want and don’t want – I know, shocking, right? They assume that their dick is special. Excluded from the advisories. Insulated by its sheer awesomeness. My dick is magnificent, they think. Who wouldn’t want to see MY dick?
The answer is everyone. EVERYONE wouldn’t want to see your dick. It is safest, gentlemen, to just go forth on that simple assumption until the very moment you encounter someone who says, plainly, “Please, I would like to see your dick.” And we will, guys. When we want to see it, we really will tell you. What people don’t seem to realize is that this is not a new phenomenon – not some fresh outrage brought about by entitled Millennials who’ve been parented primarily by technology. Dick pics have been around as long as cameras have, and I suspect – as long as dicks themselves have. I’ve been single, on and off, for an awfully long time – and while those old-timey rascals of Last Century had to be slightly more innovative in their approach to delivery, their plucky, pioneering dick-spirits prevailed. The difference back then, and up until very recently – is that we, as women do, THOUGHT IT WAS US. That this was only happening to us, because of some shameful defect or secret whore vibe that we MUST be sending out to make guys think we wanted to see pictures of their dicks. What is it about ME, we asked ourselves, that makes them think I want this? We slut-shamed our own selves, for fuck’s sake – because the guys we liked couldn’t keep their dicks in their pants and off camera. How fucked up is that?
Nowadays, thanks to the likes of Tinder (also known as The End Of Civilization), women are finally calling bullshit and starting to understand that it’s not actually us. That we are not inviting the onslaught of genitalia into our unsuspecting eyeballs. Although shaming is still a big part of the deal, it’s now primarily used by men in a SUPER clever reverse-psychology kind of way. When we do not Ooh and Ahh at the dicks, when we fail to swoon, we are immediately berated – chided for being frigid, prudish, and (my favorite) “not as much fun as I thought you were.” It’s still Our Fault, somehow. Ever and always.
Again, this discussion is not groundbreaking – it’s everywhere. But what’s disturbing (aside from the fact that MEN CONSTANTLY SEND US PICTURES OF THEIR PENISES) is that we women are largely portrayed as victims of the dick pic with no recourse whatsoever. For, let’s face it, responding in kind with pictures of our own junk would hardly be taken in the vengeful spirit in which it was delivered. Because men. Using our voices to tell them we are displeased, again, only results in petulant attempts at Boomerang Shame. Not one of the articles I have read offers resolve to this issue apart from tepidly using reason, entreating men to please stop. And well, we know how that goes.
Here’s where I come in. I – teller of truths, warrior of women, docent of dick pics – am here to deliver this news, guys. WE ARE MOCKING YOU. We save them. We collect them. We show our friends. We make fun of them. We draw faces on them (sad faces, mostly). We point and laugh. We name names. We cackle uproariously at your pitiable lack of self-esteem, so thinly veiled as cock bravado. We feel a little sorry for you. We do not want to fuck you.
Because here’s the thing, fellas. We will, every time, choose the guy who didn’t send the dick pic – content to take our chances with what lies beneath over that which rears its ugly purple head. Because if it turns out you are worthy of our affections, our bodies, our time, our love, especially – we won’t fucking care what your dick looks like.
Truth, Misanthropista style. Please, everyone, do your part. Pass this shit on. Stop the madness. Save the world.