The Truth About my Cock
I have noticed that there seem to be a few misconceptions about my cock floating around the internet, and I’d like to take this opportunity to clear up any confusion. It’s very important to me that the general public has a full and accurate picture of my cock, so that they understand its place in our culture and civilization. My cock doesn’t know that I’m doing this. If it did, it would probably try to stop me. “It makes no difference what they think about me,” it would say, with that twinkle in its eye, “all that matters is what I think about them.” This is true, but I think its only fair to give people a chance to educate themselves and each other. Please help me spread the word about my cock, so that when the time comes, people don’t have to be surprised and afraid.
There’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll just say it. The meek will not inherit the earth. My cock will inherit the earth. The meek might briefly inherit the earth, but being meek, they will never withstand my cock. It will be a bloodless coup. All will be convinced of the basic necessity of my cock’s rule. Hitler was democratically elected, but with the burning of the Reichstag he was able to assume absolute control of the government by declaring emergency conditions. My cock is an emergency condition. Although its rise to power will be Hitler-like, my cock is not a Hitler. The terrible Tyrannosaurs Rex was not the king of the dinosaurs. My cock is the king of the dinosaurs. Dinosaurs, much like humans, abused the free will they were given. Instead of choosing to invent space colonies and explore the galaxy, they elected to be smashed by giant rocks from the sky. This kind of poor planning is the reason that we need to have my cock in charge. I’ve been thinking with my cock for years, and this has convinced me of its wisdom. We won’t need a crusty senate, boring U.N. meetings, or stupid campaign commercials when my cock is making the decisions. I think we can all agree that this would be a better kind of life.
But why should we give up our autonomy to my cock, you ask? I beg to differ. My cock already rules us. We just have to wake up and realize that basic fact. Once, man thought the sun revolved around the earth. Then man thought the earth revolved around the sun. Soon, man will come to know the truth: the wandering stars and spinning planets of our infinite universe revolve around my cock. My cock is my shepherd, I shall not want. As I walk through the valley of the shadow of impotence, I fear no flaccidity, for my cock is with me. If you but peer out on the horizon, you can see my cock fall like lightning from heaven, but that is mere poetry. All that can be said about my cock is a lie, because the truth is nothing but my cock itself, all other images being imperfect reflections of the divine essence. It is wrong to think of my cock as an object. My cock is a deed. It is the rhythmic expression of the Transcendent Cock in the graceful ebb and flow of poetry in motion through space and time. My cock is the forbidden dance.
The bottom line is this: if you want peace you must prepare for my cock.
It’s not about whether you win or lose. It’s about my cock.
With absolute power, comes my cock (Kissinger was right).
My cock is an iron cock in a latex glove.
There is nothing to fear…
..but my cock…
There’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll just say it. The meek will not inherit the earth. My cock will inherit the earth. The meek might briefly inherit the earth, but being meek, they will never withstand my cock. It will be a bloodless coup. All will be convinced of the basic necessity of my cock’s rule. Hitler was democratically elected, but with the burning of the Reichstag he was able to assume absolute control of the government by declaring emergency conditions. My cock is an emergency condition. Although its rise to power will be Hitler-like, my cock is not a Hitler. The terrible Tyrannosaurs Rex was not the king of the dinosaurs. My cock is the king of the dinosaurs. Dinosaurs, much like humans, abused the free will they were given. Instead of choosing to invent space colonies and explore the galaxy, they elected to be smashed by giant rocks from the sky. This kind of poor planning is the reason that we need to have my cock in charge. I’ve been thinking with my cock for years, and this has convinced me of its wisdom. We won’t need a crusty senate, boring U.N. meetings, or stupid campaign commercials when my cock is making the decisions. I think we can all agree that this would be a better kind of life.
But why should we give up our autonomy to my cock, you ask? I beg to differ. My cock already rules us. We just have to wake up and realize that basic fact. Once, man thought the sun revolved around the earth. Then man thought the earth revolved around the sun. Soon, man will come to know the truth: the wandering stars and spinning planets of our infinite universe revolve around my cock. My cock is my shepherd, I shall not want. As I walk through the valley of the shadow of impotence, I fear no flaccidity, for my cock is with me. If you but peer out on the horizon, you can see my cock fall like lightning from heaven, but that is mere poetry. All that can be said about my cock is a lie, because the truth is nothing but my cock itself, all other images being imperfect reflections of the divine essence. It is wrong to think of my cock as an object. My cock is a deed. It is the rhythmic expression of the Transcendent Cock in the graceful ebb and flow of poetry in motion through space and time. My cock is the forbidden dance.
The bottom line is this: if you want peace you must prepare for my cock.
It’s not about whether you win or lose. It’s about my cock.
With absolute power, comes my cock (Kissinger was right).
My cock is an iron cock in a latex glove.
There is nothing to fear…
..but my cock…