We're not allowed to CRANK OUR HOGS!?

Member

When not referred to by its proper name, His Majesty is known as the womb hammer or the flesh dagger.

What about "Mr. Weinenschnitzel"?

Oh, you mean the ol'grizzlestick?

Hooked up with a guy who called his "Justice" and honestly deserved the title.

Me over here using "parts" because I hate all words for genetalia 🥲

Tra la la?

but what about my little schmibble

wears socks to bed

You don't?

Hell yeah. Punching the clown keeps me free from meme judgement.

Its my Mr. Bizarroland

1-800-PP5-1DOODOO

Calling on Mister Boopsy

It is a truth not universally acknowledged, yet keenly observed by those with leisure and inclination, that a gentleman improving himself within the privacy of his own home may nonetheless become an object of considerable interest to his neighbors, particularly when those neighbors are five attentive sisters with a view of his windows.

The Misses Wrightie: Pinkie, Ringelia, Middlina, Indexa, and the youngest, Thumbelina, had long taken their afternoon tea in the front parlor, where the curtains were drawn back just enough to admit both light and curiosity. It was Middlina, the eldest and most decisive, who first remarked upon Mister Boopsy’s altered habits.

“He did not always rise so early,” she observed, peering discreetly over the rim of her cup. “Nor did he, I think, once attend so earnestly to his correspondence.” Indexa, who prided herself on a more philosophical turn, inclined her head. “There is a seriousness about him now, a deliberation of movement. It suggests reflection, perhaps even resolve.” Ringelia, ever fond of particulars, added, “And his posture! Yesterday he stood at his post for nearly an hour. I am convinced he was composing something of consequence or else soliciting attention.” Ringelia laughed lightly. “Or merely attempting to stand straighter. Improvement must begin somewhere.” Young Thumbelina, who had no patience for abstraction, clasped her hands. “He looks happier.”

This, though simple, was not disputed. For indeed, over the course of several weeks, Mister Boopsy’s demeanor had undergone a most agreeable transformation. Where once he had lingered in idleness, he now moved with purpose; where once his quarters appeared in disarray, they were now set in order, with books arranged and sunlight admitted. The sisters, though stationed outside, could not but feel themselves witnesses to a quiet triumph of character.

“It would be a kindness,” said Indexa at last, “to call upon him.” “A kindness?” Pinkie echoed, amused. “Certainly. A gentleman so evidently devoted to self-improvement ought not be left without society. We might afford him a little diversion.” Ringelia approved. “Encouragement, properly administered, is a moral good.” And so it was settled. Their arrival the following afternoon was conducted with due propriety, though not without a degree of anticipation. Mister Boopsy, upon noticing the opening of his door and discovering not one but five callers, was at first quite overcome. His bow, though earnest, lacked precision; his expression, though welcoming, betrayed a flutter of astonishment.

“Miss Wrightie, erm Misses...how very...what an honor,” he managed. Indexa, composed as ever, relieved him. “We hope we do not intrude, sir. Having observed...having heard of your industrious habits, we thought a brief call might not be unwelcome.” “Not unwelcome at all!” he exclaimed, with a warmth that seemed to exceed his own expectations. “Pray, do come in.” The sisters entered and were pleased, though not surprised, to find his rooms in admirable condition. Books were neatly arranged; a small writing desk stood by the window; and upon a modest table rested a single cup of yogurt, accompanied by a spoon placed with careful symmetry. Conversation commenced with ease. Middlina inquired after his reading; Ringelia praised the arrangement of his shelves; Pinkie supplied a gentle wit that soon put him at his comfort; Thumbelina admired everything without restraint, and Indexa oversaw the whole with quiet satisfaction.

Mister Boopsy, for his part, grew increasingly animated. He spoke of his new routines, his intentions, his small but meaningful successes. There was, in his manner, a sincerity so evident that even Ringelia refrained from teasing it. “I have found,” he said, gesturing perhaps more vigorously than necessary, “that one must only begin. The rest follows, though not without effort, of course, but still, it follows!”

In the enthusiasm of this declaration, he seized his cup of yogurt, as if it were an emblem of his newfound discipline. Unfortunately, his fervor exceeded his caution. The pressure of his grip, combined with the modest frailty of the container, proved too much. With a most unfortunate sound, the yogurt burst. The result was immediate and comprehensive. A pale cascade adorned his hands, his sleeve, and a not inconsiderable portion of the table. For one suspended moment, silence reigned. Then Thumbelina gasped. Middlina turned aside to conceal a smile. Ringelia reached instinctively for a cloth that was not yet in her possession. Pinkie composed her expression into philosophical neutrality. And Indexa stepped forward without hesitation.

“No matter, sir,” she said, as though such occurrences were the most ordinary in the world. “A simple mishap.” Mister Boopsy, mortified, could scarcely speak. “I-I cannot express-this is most-” “Quite salvageable,” Middlina interjected calmly. Ringelia had by then secured a napkin. Pinkie, abandoning restraint, joined in the effort with brisk efficiency. Even Thumbelina, though giggling, assisted where she might. In a remarkably short time, order was restored. The table was wiped, the damage contained, and Mister Boopsy, though still flushed, was spared further embarrassment by the sisters’ unflagging composure.

“You are exceedingly kind,” he said at last, his voice steadier. “I fear I have made a most ridiculous impression.” “On the contrary,” said Indexa, “you have made a human one.” Middlina allowed herself a small smile. “And an energetic one.” Encouraged, he ventured a laugh of his own.

Their leave-taking, when it came, was conducted with as much grace as their arrival. At the door, Indexa spoke for them all. “We have enjoyed our call very much, Mister Boopsy. If you would permit it, we should be pleased to visit again.” His expression, though now more carefully managed, could not conceal his delight. “I should like that exceedingly.” And so the sisters departed, returning to their accustomed vantage with renewed interest; while within, Mister Boopsy, somewhat cleaner, slightly wiser, and no less determined, resumed his course of improvement, now with the agreeable prospect of future company.

Schmeat

[Insert particularly phalic produce]

How about Tralala?

Bepis

What's your ruling on "the ol' pool noodle"? Asking for a friend.

There is a side group for hog that doesn't always include magats. Bilmuri fans.

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=wBJCrGQF52Y

hot dog

Laphog, schlong, rod, pecker, snake, package, unit, johnson, richard, purple helmet warrior, willy, one eyed trouser snake, sinstick, prick, dink, pickle, sausage, lower horn, skinflute, genghis khan

Swizzle Stick

What about calling it Johnson?