Ben Peek (benpeek) wrote,
Ben Peek

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Nowhere Near Savannah. Art by Anna Brown, Words by Ben Peek

Do you know what this is?

It's a penis.


I've seen one before.

You think this funny?

It's not?


This was sent to me at two in the morning by some horny fucking retard. Do you know what it's like to get this on your phone accompanied by the lines, “I want to spank your pussy.”

Spank your pussy?



It's not funny, Ben.

It is if you're serious.

I am serious.

Then it's funny 'cause you'd have to be retarded to say that and send a picture of your cock.

You don't understand!

It's violating.

I didn't ask for it. I didn't request it. It's like whipping it out in public—what am I, suppose to be impressed by this?

Maybe if it was bigger?

Would you send your penis to a girl you just met?

That I just met?

And haven't slept with.

Everyone knows sending pictures of your cock is a second date thing.

It's in the Boy Handbook. It clearly says in chapter two, that in the event that some way to transport images of your erect penis is fashioned in the future that you are not to send them until a second date has taken place.

Also that second date...

...would you stop waving the PhoneCock in my face.

Stop talking shit then.

That's the funniest thing I've said all day.

You're not listening to me.

What, are you actually upset by this?

It's pissed me off, you moron.

I like cocks. I'm a cock kind of girl, but I don't want them sent to me by a guy that I have just met at two o'clock in the morning when he's drunk and horny.

I'm not that kind of cock girl.


What did he think I was going to say?

“Oh, your penis. Fuck yeah. I'm totally going to forget about your girlfriend at the sight of your very ordinary penis on my phone. Just let me get my knickers off—”


You're interrupting me.

My mistake, sorry.

It pissed me the fuck off, that's all. I don't want to be told that you want to spank my pussy—I mean, first off, what the fuck is that? That's not erotic. It's like some bad porn dialogue.

“Spank my pussy.”

“Oh it's so big.”

“Let me call you Daddy.”

Fuck that.

This just says that I'm a piece of meat. That you have no appreciation of me as a person, that you don't wish to interact with me as an individual. You couldn't even be bothered sending me a picture with your face in it—it was just your below average cock that you want to pleasure, and that's all.

Seduction does seem to be a lost art form.

All guys suck.

Do you have a drink?

Yeah. Fridge.

Not getting it for me?

All guys suck, remember.

You know, I can't even remember the last time I was seduced.

I've seen it with other people.

This girl I know in Canada made a magic act for a guy she liked. She filmed it and put it on youtube for him while he was traveling. He's some musician, y'know?

I saw this thing and it's fucking awesome. She does this simple trick where she writes a message on a piece of paper for this guy, this musician, right? She's wishing him luck as he goes to perform. Then she says that's not enough, so she tears up the page and pushes the crumbled remains into her hand like its crushed bird bones. After that, she looks into the camera, makes a joke about misdirection, blows into her hand and pulls out a new message on piece of paper not ripped.

It seems so chaste and innocent, but the way she does it, the way it's meant just for him—it's just amazing.

That's awesome.

I'd worship the guy who did that for me.

I now ask girls if they'll do that for me. If they say no, it's all over.

Crazy girls.

Crazy boys.

Fucking PhoneCock.

Fucking retard who sent it.

He was cute, too.



What's his number?


What's his number?


I got a blog.

You wouldn't?

Be a shame if a few hundred messages telling him his penis was tiny suddenly arrived, wouldn't it?


That'd, like, be terrible.

I could tell him I want to spank his pussy.


So, c'mon, what do you say? Revenge is everything.

Tags: nowherenearsavannah
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