I have on it on good authority that my penis is neither too big nor too small. Before this certification, there was a time when my size did trouble me, and while nowadays I am utterly at peace, so completely relaxed, confident, unconcerned and unworried about my dimensions that I don’t even give them a second, or first, thought whatsoever, at all, ever, I wasn’t always so secure.
I attended a single-sex secondary school. Here, the number one topic of conversation, ahead of even the likes of Pokémon, Linkin Park or girls, was willies. Whereas at primary school I had been blissfully unaware that size mattered, in Year 7 I was suddenly confronted by the fact that most of my classmates would apparently require at least a metre ruler to measure theirs, while a 30cm shatterproof would be too generous for mine.
But the willy wasn’t just a talking point. It was a constant visual presence too. My school even had a secret gang, the WDC. Nobody knew who was in The WDC, only what it stood for: Wil…
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