We all know the archetype: there are the simple girls and the Katie girls, per Carrie Bradshaw’s stark, The Way We Were-based assessment. The Katies (Barbra Streisand, in all her Marxist Jew glory) are the ones “men” deem too “interesting” a.k.a. complicato to deal with on a long-term basis. Sure, at first, there’s a “fun” novelty to them, both sexually and intellectually, but after a while, “men” ultimately can’t resist yearning to return to the no-frills nature of a basique.
While there’s nothing wrong with basiques, per se, they will never challenge a “man” in a way that will prompt him to grow or question himself in any real or meaningful form. However, they will be there to hold his hand/fake dick, encourage him in all of his bullshit artistic pursuits and essentially serve as a wordless sounding board that can be fucked whenever he isn’t feeling doughy or self-obsessed. In short, the complicatos are forced to go the Kristen Stewart/St. Vincent route, because, really, what other choice do we have apart from the hollow insertion of a dildo?
We’ve all been phased out by someone or another in our lives. It’s even happened to Regina George. No matter how amazing you think you are, there’s invariably going to someone els who doesn’t. These people are usually men. When a man is done with you, or rather, with fucking you, his method of expressing this sentiment is to cease communication with you altogether.
The most notorious and blunt phase out
While some men argue that there’s no better way to go about eradicating someone he’s no longer interested in his life, there is a statute of limitations on how callous you can be about it. So long as “men” exist and thrive in the Cenozoic era, the phase out will always be here to torture women and force them to wonder what they did wrong. For the Williamsburgian “man,” however, the phase out can easily come back to bite you in the ass, seeing that the Wburg radius is incredibly petite and the bar scene is a cess pool of the same people. With this in mind, I don’t recommend the phase out unless you can assure its success by switching neighborhoods altogether.
Many men are capable of a requisite amount of delusion when it comes to penis size. Some like to say, “It’s not the size, it’s what it can do.” This is the first sign that they’re packing something that’s probably likenable to a stuffed olive (especially if they’re claiming to be Italian) in terms of girth.
I’m guessing not too highly if you’re living in the country of Williamsburg
And by the way, a small penis cannot do all the things a larger penis can. Just ask Samantha from Sex and the City. Granted, if you’re a “nice guy” who knows how to treat a person with a vag (which you undeniably don’t because you’ve chosen to live in Williamsburg and therefore think you’re superior to everyone), then you may have a chance of eking by with a small peen…but don’t count on it.
It does give one a distinct sort of pleasure to know that while women usually get, to borrow a phrase from Marilyn Monroe in Some Like It Hot, the fuzzy end of the lollipop in terms of improving our sense of self-worth through body modification, men with a tiny dick–a worse fate than utter dicklessness–are essentially powerless to change their fate. The world of penis enlargement isn’t half as advanced as breast enlargement, after all.
There was once a Sex and the City episode called “Boy, Girl, Boy, Girl.” In it, an artist that Charlotte was showing at her gallery did a photographic exhibit of drag kings. He said, “Gender is an illusion.” In Williamsburg, this is especially accurate. Indeed, the “men” have taken on a more female quality and the “women” a far more masculine one.
While androgyny will always have a certain chic quality, it can make for a very frustrating experience when you’re just trying to troll without putting too much thought into what’s going on in the genital area. To have to question whether or not someone has a penis is truly the epitome of missing a dick. My advice, start wearing a t-shirt that clearly indicates what you’re trying to be: Boy, girl or something in between. It would save us all a lot of unnecessary lust.