You ever wonder how big God’s penis is? I’ll be honest, I do. Genesis, Chapter 1, Verse 27: “So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him,” according to King James’ book.
That’s what the Bible says. I have a penis, so the Bible dic-tates God must, too. Which begs my question, and a couple others. We’re all in God’s image, so that’s an argument for the average human penis being about the size of God’s – proportionally speaking, anyway. I think it a bit presumptuous to claim to know God’s height and weight. But don’t we all like to think that God would be the proud owner of a porn-star magnitude johnson? The problem with this affectionate assumption is that, of course, most of us would cease to be exactly in His image, with our mere mortal manhoods.
But we’ll come back to that one. And as long as we’re in the area, I would like to know what, exactly, God needs a penis for. Those Darwinian heathens have done a thorough job of their “scientific” study and exhaustive research into the “evolution” of our species, and the inheritance of our monkey penis. I know what to do with my penis, and spend the bulk of my free time practicing, and praying for God to bless me with a pretty lady to help out. In this day and age you don’t have to pray cause you can now buy sex toys that will bring you wonders and flesh-like sensation that you though only women can give. But exactly what practical use does God have for His Wang? He didn’t even utilize his own Original Prick to impregnate the Virgin Mary! He took the lazy route. Didn’t lay the poor girl but, presumably, snapped His Godly fingers and made it so, before sending an angel to give her the news in “person”:
“And, behold, thou shalt conceive in thy womb, and bring forth a son, and shalt call his name JESUS.” (Luke, 1:31)
At no point does God’s Holy Dangle do any diddling. So what is it there for? Hmmm… how frequently do you figure God masturbates? Call this speculation, but I’m assuming the Lord does not get erections. Coitus exists for procreation and nothing more. And if the Man upstairs wasn’t wasting a woody on Jesus, then I, for one, am comfortable labeling Him forever flaccid.
My penis is modeled after God’s. When I’m flying at half-mast I know we are talking about a fraction of my God-given potential. I am not looking to be branded a heretic, but from a reasoned and rational point of view, my verdict is that if you are blessed with a penis the size of the Almighty’s that even an yoga maniac adult star can’t resist, that is nothing to thank God about.