Ah, Anthony Wiener. Will you never go away? Will you never learn that a man in politics (with an unfortunate last name) should never, ever, text pictures of his junk, talk about his junk, or in any way call attention in a public forum to his junk?
The truth is, guys, your "junk" is one of the last things we want to see up close via digital or printed media. Seeing you that up close and personal is a whole other thing, and comparing them is useless. Some women just aren't all that into your penises in any ways other than their practical applications. Men tend to love seeing pictures of women's ladyparts. Seeing them leads to all sorts of fantasies about what they can do with those parts. Men are often very visual creatures, and pictures of ladyparts, texted or otherwise, make for fine viewing pleasure.
Image: John D. via Flickr
Women, on the other hand, don't usually get that agog over just a penis. We just don't. Penises are all generally similar within an inch or two, varying a bit in shades of color or girth. It's only when they're almost freakishly different in some way that we take notice. Of course, you think your lil' guy is special and so he is, when properly applied. I don't need him to sit for a portrait.
Really, I don't.
What some women think, and some men don't seem to grasp, is that no matter how utterly alluring and attractive your manparts may be (and they're just not as alluring as you think- sorry), a portrait of your soldier at attention does not lead us to fantasize about having him service us. At all. In fact, the common reaction from my girlfriends and other women I've spoken to upon seeing a pic of some guy's junk is: "Eww."
"Eww" is usually then followed by: "What is this? Middle school?"
What matters to most women, far more than a closeup of your throbbing purple-helmeted love warrior, is the guy behind that thing. We want to know who is going to be wielding that impressive, weapon of mass sexual destruction. We want to know what you are about. More importantly, we want to know that YOU know what you are about. You don't exactly accomplish that by sending us an uninspired picture of your generic-looking junk.
Send me a picture of your eyes. Have someone snap it while you're looking at me from across the room, and make sure you're looking at me with intent. Your look should tell me that you know what you're doing, and you want to do it with me. If you've got a body you're proud of, take a pic of your well-sculpted chest. Send me a shot of those tight buns encased in athletic jockey shorts. Cuddle a puppy while shirtless. Yum.
If you're not the best physical specimen, show me a picture of you doing something you're passionate about - biking, painting, or raising money for a favorite charity. A man who is passionate about things and focused on what he wants is a guy that I want to know much more intimately. Those kinds of skills serve you well...everywhere, if you know what I mean.
Better yet, forget the picture entirely. Tell me that you think about me when I'm not around. Tell me why you think I'm sexy, and do it without mentioning a single body part. The key here, gentlemen, is to make sure that I know you want me, not just sex. The guys who send pics of their junk pretty much just want sex, and look at women as the hopeful (or worse, convenient) purveyor of it, instead of seeing the whole picture of who we are and what we can bring to your bed besides the sum of the parts of which you'd like a picture.
Women can tell the difference. Oh, yes we can.
So if you absolutely must send me a picture of your junk, stick some googly eyes on it or wrap it in a Hogwarts scarf and draw a lightning bolt on the tip. Make me laugh and I'm halfway in bed with you already. Other than that, you can skip the portrait. I'd rather meet your manparts in person, on my own terms, thanks.