Can’t tell you how much I hate them. Gutter life, disgusting, and what kind of male moron would think a tiny splinter of wood would make him seem more masculine? Wasn’t the term pencil dick coined for a reason? But here they all are. Lame, lost, and low class.
Actually, the only thing worse than the toothpick is the match.
Sometimes a toothpick is just a toothpick (and a match is just a match). Despite the vapors caught over Trump’s “locker room” banter among the chattering classes, women are nasty heifers when among women, and a goodly portion of the men in your rogues’ gallery are packing according to the ladies. Women have compared Liam Neeson’s member to an Evian bottle, for instance, and Stallone’s wang is forever (unfortunately) preserved on celluloid from his porn days in “The Italian Stallion.” I don’t suggest watching that film, though it’s not as bad as half of Sly’s oeuvre. I’d actually prefer getting pounded in the ass by Frank Stallone while Jackie Stallone reads my fortune to seeing “Stop, or my Mom will Shoot” again.
It’s the harmless substitute for a smoke: the toothless lion, the neutered tomcat sleeping on his warm TV, and the nu-male. All praise their weakness, for they wrap it in morality which makes it okay… somehow…