Two images popped in my head when I saw this topic. I remembered an ex-boyfriend who named his “member” after a tool. He once referred to it as Stanley, saying it was a power tool that could go all night. I wish I could make up stuff as ridiculous as this. He was exaggerating, by the way.
I don’t get the whole naming the penis thing. I mean, I realize that it has a mind of its own. In fact, sometimes it’s the only mind some men have, but I just don’t understand the personalization.
Of course, some women have their stupid tool references as well – maybe just not about their vaginas. Case in point, I used to go with a group of friends and coworkers to a poetry slam at a now closed coffee house downtown. The thing about poetry slams is that many times, the performance of the poem is as important as the poem itself. That’s one of the reasons I never competed; I’ve never considered myself an actress.
This one woman, however, who competed weekly clearly thought of herself as a diva. She came into the coffee house with an entourage. The slam had three rounds, and for that final round, this woman almost always recited the same poem about her Ryobi drill, always performing the last line with her arm in the air, mimicking the motion of holding a drill above her head and pulling the trigger. Now the whole female empowerment theme of the poem was cool, and the poem wasn’t a bad one, but it felt as if she was cheating to constantly use the same poem to win the competition. By the time we stopped attending the poetry slams, we could recite the poem along with her.
A couple of friends have mentioned seeing her around town, and occasionally, I’ll thumb through one of the local entertainment rags and see her picture or her name in an article about the poetry slams that are held at another coffee house. We all still wonder if she still recites “that damn Ryobi poem.”
And I still wonder if that ex-boyfriend still refers to his penis as Stanley. Perhaps his wife has corrected him by now.