Day 1: Wednesday
My teeth were clamped down in the midst of a large bowel movement when the idea came to me. No longer will people stare into the bleak polished door of the dormitory stall without a source of positive reassurement. My epiphany is more than just a non-homophobic feeling for the penis; it is a realization of my next project. Most toilet-door depictions are quite juvenile, being both anatomically incorrect as well as disproportional to the normal sized penis. Utilizing my artictic talents, I will create a provocative piece dancing the fine line between utter distaste and immaculate beauty. Unsuspecting bowel movers of the future will gaze helplessly into its hypnotic one-eyed stare. I will carve the perfect giant penis, the David of all toliet-door penises.
Day 2: Thursday
Before I could begin any real work I needed to study the penis, really get to know the penis. My first thought was to go out and rent lots of porn, but then I remembered that the internet is just teeming with porn so I logged on and away I went. Thank you Cal! Where would I be without my free high-speed connection to vast oceans of raunch? After five minutes, I realized I didn’t really want to look at penises so I finished the rest of the day downloading girl on girl movies. That was something … The day wasn’t a complete loss.
Day 3: Friday
Same as before.
Day 4: Saturday
Research is very tiring.
Day 5: Sunday
I finally decided to stop researching and start art-making. The dorm’s bathroom was remarkably convenient and hospitable. Barricaded in the stall, I could hear the bathroom door fly open then see legs woozily run towards the open stall and then empty the contents of a delightful frat party from the night before –the routine went on until about 2 o’clock. After the interruptions, I started really getting into my penis. I took every precaution to make sure that my penis was treated perfectly. Even though you’re cutting a penis into a door, you have to be gentle –firm but gentle. You have to work the tools in back and forth, using up and down movements. You wouldn’t want to tweak something the wrong way. I found that a good amount of pressure at the base made it go much quicker. It also made it much more enjoyable for me to keep it moist; working only with the dry surface tends to chip away too much. As an artist, the pain of losing my piece would be too great. Most of the afternoon was spent working on the penis, making sure I paid attention to all the different parts: the glans, right. The frenulum, perfect. Making sure to give the veins the right amount of coverage to show their thickness–I had to make sure it looked just right. I had to stop every now and again because it was so exhausting, but I went at it all day. I don’t think I’ve ever worked up such a sweat as I did then, working on my penis.
Day 6: Monday
I didn’t stop working Sunday night because I felt I could get it done. I hated the idea of rushing, but being in a public place, I wanted to finish off the penis quick and then surprise everyone later. I finished just around 3:00 a.m. and decided I’d add whatever finishing touches were necessary while taking a shit. So I left my creation, my gift to the world, my penis there for everyone to see. I woke about midday, eager to see what kind of reaction my penis had received. Yet to my horror, I found that someone had drawn cum all over my penis and had also drawn a large ass to add to my wonderful penis’s destruction–death by sodomy. Doesn’t anyone appreciate fine art anymore?