Yes, I said circumcision. What the bloody hell is up with that??? OK, as a somewhat, well, totally fallen Jew, I get the welcome to the tribe thing. Well, kind of. Actually, not really at all. It's my fucking pee-pee. And you bastards cut part of it off!!! OK, to be honest it wasn't the Jews that did this to me, it was a redneck doctor in Arkansas that did it. And he didn't even ask. Me, or my parents. He just did it. It was common practice back then. Congratulations Mr. and Mrs. Colee, you have a son. In couple of hours we're going to be mutilating his tally-wacker. Hope you don't mind... That son of a bitch cut part my pee-pee off!!! WTF???
In the medical world it is called a circumcision board. Horrid thing. That is Spanish Inquisition for water boarding. On steroids. This is child abuse on the brown acid!!! And with NO anesthesia. Apparently, like cattle, babies feel no pain. Is that why you strap us down like a condemned prisoner and do this to us??? I did not consent to this crap!!! It was my pee-pee!!!
Hell, I love my pee-pee. I play with it at least 3 or 4 times a day. Sometimes even more. Yes, I'm a serial masturbater. Oh, just go fuck yourselves!!! I'll do what I want with with my pee-pee. It's mine after all. Well, what's left of it. I call him Peggy. In a deep Russian accent. Like an overseas telemarketer . Don't ask, don't tell...
Now, as we all know, that little piece of my pee-pee should have been ceremoniously presented to my parents so they could save it in my "Baby Book" so I could be buried with it as a "whole" human. But NO, it was tossed into some now unknown land fill in Arkansas. Like some piece of southern road pizza. I'm sure it looks like a slice of decomposing calamari by now. OK, not a pretty picture. But it was a part of my pee-pee!!! My foreskin for christ's sake!!! I want that motherfucker back!!! It was mine!!! I was born with it!!! It's natural and normal you bastards!!! It was my pee-pee!!! Trust me, I truly fond and protective of Peggy!!! Hell, I apologize to him several times a day. And then we have a cigarette. Sometimes two... Sometimes three... It all depends on how much comforting he needs...
WTF is next??? Nipples??? Ear lobes??? Opposable thumbs??? Oh, god, no, not those!!! Those are the only things that give Peggy any solice at this point. He's fragile, he's been damaged. Hell, he's got enough baggage to move to Mars with. Trust me, I've known him a long time!!! He has night-terrors and wakes us puking. Horrid, horrid dreams that he is too terrorfied to talk about... Oh god, just stop the madness!!!
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