This particular story is rated xxx, so if you’re one to be scandalized by things big or small, stop reading now. But since hopefully you’re an adult, here’s a personal question: Do you like them big or small? Does size matter to you? You’re probably wondering where this is leading, so let me cut to the chase.
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“You have a big one,” my Dutch friend said to me one night while my mind was engaged with the Scrabble game at hand. I carelessly replied in the affirmative without giving much thought to his rather ambiguous assertion. I had no idea my answer would be a harbinger of a silly debate with others that evening. (Incidentally, the substance of this debate has ground through the rumor mill ever since.) And I have nobody to wag my finger at but you guys, the Rumor Propagators.
Anyway, to make a long story short, these guys alleged that I do indeed have a big one, which is tantamount to blasphemy. And they also went out of their way to scandalize Dutch and foreign female students about my alleged big size.
I hereby condemn the allegations raised by those Perronlaan based chaps. But now everywhere I go people want to see if it’s really so big, and I must tell them that no, it’s not as big as they think. Yet some Dutch girls still look at me with eyes that say exactly what they’re thinking: “I wonder how big it really is?” With a sly smile, some even ask to see it, but I reply that the Bible says, “Blessed are those who believe without seeing.”
Anyway, let me put the record straight. I, native of Uganda, insist that I DO NOT have a big one. It’s small actually. And everyone who has seen me holding it or seen it in my trouser pocket knows that it’s not as big as the Rumor Propagators allege.
It is in fact as ordinary as they come, so I don’t understand why there’s all this hullabaloo about it. And there’s even a German guy on my floor who has a bigger one. And I know, because I’ve seen him playing with his. I don’t believe size matters, because mine is not only really small, but it also can last a long time and sometimes even vibrate a little too.
I’m sick and tired of people stopping and asking me about it. In fact, should anybody dare ask me again about my size, I swear to God I will pull it out and shove it in their face. And that is when you will know that it is but a cute little Nokia 8210 that I bought at a shop in Delft. Now get back to work you pervert.
Ivan Eng’alut is native of Uganda, currently labouring in the first-year of a BSc degree in Aerospace Engineering.
This particular story is rated xxx, so if you’re one to be scandalized by things big or small, stop reading now. But since hopefully you’re an adult, here’s a personal question: Do you like them big or small? Does size matter to you? You’re probably wondering where this is leading, so let me cut to the chase.
“You have a big one,” my Dutch friend said to me one night while my mind was engaged with the Scrabble game at hand. I carelessly replied in the affirmative without giving much thought to his rather ambiguous assertion. I had no idea my answer would be a harbinger of a silly debate with others that evening. (Incidentally, the substance of this debate has ground through the rumor mill ever since.) And I have nobody to wag my finger at but you guys, the Rumor Propagators.
Anyway, to make a long story short, these guys alleged that I do indeed have a big one, which is tantamount to blasphemy. And they also went out of their way to scandalize Dutch and foreign female students about my alleged big size.
I hereby condemn the allegations raised by those Perronlaan based chaps. But now everywhere I go people want to see if it’s really so big, and I must tell them that no, it’s not as big as they think. Yet some Dutch girls still look at me with eyes that say exactly what they’re thinking: “I wonder how big it really is?” With a sly smile, some even ask to see it, but I reply that the Bible says, “Blessed are those who believe without seeing.”
Anyway, let me put the record straight. I, native of Uganda, insist that I DO NOT have a big one. It’s small actually. And everyone who has seen me holding it or seen it in my trouser pocket knows that it’s not as big as the Rumor Propagators allege.
It is in fact as ordinary as they come, so I don’t understand why there’s all this hullabaloo about it. And there’s even a German guy on my floor who has a bigger one. And I know, because I’ve seen him playing with his. I don’t believe size matters, because mine is not only really small, but it also can last a long time and sometimes even vibrate a little too.
I’m sick and tired of people stopping and asking me about it. In fact, should anybody dare ask me again about my size, I swear to God I will pull it out and shove it in their face. And that is when you will know that it is but a cute little Nokia 8210 that I bought at a shop in Delft. Now get back to work you pervert.
Ivan Eng’alut is native of Uganda, currently labouring in the first-year of a BSc degree in Aerospace Engineering.
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