HE COULDN’T MASTER HIS JOHNSON*

armor-3Eddie was a sad man. An impotent man. Wandering the alleys and grocery store aisles. Hopeless, lost. “I can’t get no satisfaction!” he cried to the empty skies. “Is there no hope?” Salty tears dribbled down his grizzled cheeks and soaked his goatee.

Then, his prayers were answered. Help arrived. Pills. Blue pills. Orange pills. Yellow pills. Pills he could take to change Mr. Johnson into Sir Johnson, a swordsman, a powerful and manly tool to be reckoned with.

With a chemical arsenal at his command, Eddie could choose whatever best suited his plans.The blue pills gave him a few hours. The yellow ones, well, they could give him a whole day. Best of all were the orange ones. Mind blowing. He was Ever-Ready Eddie, the energizer bunny of studs.

Alas poor Eddie. He ignored the warnings. When his erection lasted more than four hours, he did not go to an emergency room or see a doctor. He kept going. Even when he heard the desperate calling of Johnson begging for mercy, for rest, Eddie wouldn’t stop.

When Johnson flagged, he would take another pill and party on.

The day of reckoning came. Following an erection he had maintained for far too long, Sir Johnson threw away his sword, removed his armor and tossed it to the ground.

“I’m done,” said Johnson. “I will rise no more.” Eddie was unready. His Johnson refused to engage. No amount of manual urging or chemical encouragement could get it to so much as look upward.

He couldn’t master his Johnson.

_________________________________________________________________________________

* Robin Williams, on “The Crazy Ones.” I’m still laughing.

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