Growing up, I was always self-consicous of my rat wiener. Well, not ALWAYS self conscious- I guess I just assumed that everyone had rat wieners. You’d think someone would have told me, like my dad when he was teaching me how to pee. Maybe he did, but honestly I just don’t remember my dad teaching me how to pee all that well.

It wasn’t until summer camp that I realized I was different than everybody else. “Rat wiener!” they’d chant in the showers. “Rat wiener!” At night, I’d return to my cabin and find little pieces of cheese in my sleeping bag.

I’d scoop up the tease cheese and give it to my rat wiener and he’d gobble it right up, but in my heart I’d feel so sad. My rat wiener didn’t know any better. He didn’t know it was all a mean joke. Sometimes I even thought about killing myself.

All of that changed when I met Heather. She’s so lovely, and for the most part my rat wiener is a non-issue in our relationship.

She helps me keep it away from cats and snakes (which is a lot harder than you’d think) and every other week helps me wash it with a soft-bristle tooth brush. We’ve never had sex, but we talk about it often, and I just know when it finally happens its going to be great.

(Source: sadporn)