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Pushing rope. Slinging wet noodle. Serving boneless pork. While the vernacular differs from person to person, we’ve all been rendered impotent after a night of heavy drinking. Whiskey dick is a bitch.
Her legs are spread. Her eyes are eager. And there you are, sweating over her, dick-in-hand, tugging on your flaccid member like you’re trying to rip it off your body. You scold your worthless penis like a lawnmower that won’t start. “Come onn…come onnn you piece of shit!” But it’s no use. You look at her and shrug. “Maybe if you try sucking on it a little more?” And God bless her, she goes down there and tries her darndest, whipping out every technique she’s read about in Cosmo since the 5th grade. She cradles the balls. Swirls her tongue. She lights candles arranged in a Pentagram formation and recites an ancient incantation for waking the dead. You still got nothin’.
When she finally gives up and collapses beside you in a huff, there is a wide spectrum of emotions she may experience. Disappointment. Mild frustration. Flat-out anger. Or, worst of all, insecurity. Nothing makes me feel more terrible during sex than when a girl looks up at me and apologizes for my Less-Than-Magic Johnson. I could go down on her ’til the sun comes up and she’d still feel bad about herself, still feel unattractive, like her naked body and foreplay abilities are wildly insufficient.
I write this to set the record straight for women everywhere. Ladies, it’s not you. It’s our penises. More accurately, it’s the liquor-coated blood struggling to fill our penises. I could be having an orgy with 1960s Farrah Fawcett, 1990s Jennifer Love Hewitt, and 40 BC Cleopatra, and my tent would still be as un-pitched as a young Boy Scout without his Scout Master. (What? I mean because he doesn’t have his camping merit badge yet. NOT because of the pedophilia, ya sicko.)
Maybe it’s because I masturbate way too much, but if I have upward of eight drinks in a few hours, then getting a boner is a laborious task. I’m definitely not going to nut (unless we go for 30 minutes at 45 miles per hour – which will be all but impossible in my drunken, uncoordinated state). Those whiskeys on the rocks always get me. I’d probably have a better chance of achieving an erection if there were a cluster of leeches sucking the blood out of my shaft.
So why is it that alcohol has the same effect on the penis as thinking about baseball? I mean, drinking makes a lot of us hornier. Why can’t our nether regions seem to agree?
There hasn’t been a whole lot of research on the phenomenon, but this scientist says that limp dick occurs because alcohol causes the blood vessels to dilate. As a result, blood moves faster through your body (which is why your face turns red). This may sound like it would make it easier to get a hard-on, but the problem is, the blood leaves your penis as fast as it goes in, making it impossible to fill your quiver bone. Whiskey doesn’t have more of an effect than any other type of alcohol, either. It’s all about quantity.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t find any specifics on that quantity (like I said, this is a vastly under-researched phenomenon). Someone with a lab coat and access to hard penises should really get on that. Give us some exact BACs. 0.08: you can’t drive, 0.20: you can’t fuck, 0.25: you can dance. These are things we need to know.
Women struggle to get hard after drinking alcohol, too. Their clits fill with blood just like a mini-penis, and when the little man in the canoe is dehydrated, he won’t be able to get her there without lots of encouragement.
In conclusion, ladies, don’t go off on us like a drill sergeant if we fail to stand at attention. Don’t get upset and blame yourselves either. Just wait till the morning comes — we’ll be ready to do the same..
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