Caol le Caol, Leathan le Leathan

About three things you must be sure before you read this story:

I am a grower, not a show-er.  There is nothing terribly remarkable about my non-aroused junk.

I literally don’t care who sees me naked in the locker room.  It took me a long time to be comfortable with my body, and I’m not in a locker room to flaunt it.  I’m there to undress, shower, and dress.

My mood this morning is best summed up in these two gifs:

*** SO.

I’m in the locker room.  I come out of the shower and go to my locker, and there are three guys at their lockers in the same area, all talking to each other.  I pay them no mind because I don’t give a shit.  I open my locker.  I grab my underwear.  I drop my towel.

One of the guys thought he was gonna try and be cocky and said, “You fuck chicks with that dick?”

…

My inner monologue at that exact second can best be summed up with this gif:

I turned around, completely naked, my apparently insufficient chick-fucking dick just hanging out for the world to see, looked the dude straight in the eye and said, “No, but I can take a dick like a champ.  You tryna fuck?”

I have never seen a person so instantly regret a choice in my entire life.  He started sputtering like a bottle of shampoo that was nearly empty and then just gave up and ran off while his friends just howled.

I calmly turned around and went about my life, minding my own goddamn business like a civilized adult.

Moral of the story is,

Ambrose, who’s been living with only women for the past decades or so and who seems to be the only man with common sense: