I’m from the UK - the land of Harry Potter, driving on the left, red telephone boxes, Buckingham Palace…and skin that dangles from our men’s penises.
In British culture, it’s standard practice for a gentleman’s tallywacker to be left as is at birth (unless for religious/medical reasons) so when one does come across someone (figuratively speaking) who’s had the chop, it normally presents itself as more of a distraction than it should.
The most pertinent issue is one of technique. Years of whoring around allows one to pick up certain skills; you may be awful at arithmetic but you can give a bloody good handjob if, like me, you spent most of your time in education with your hands down someone’s pants instead of inside your desk.
When you’ve just got in from a club, quite high, on your smartphone with a hand over one eye to help with the vodka vision while you pick a boy to order from Grindr, the trusty old five minute set-menu completely goes to the wayside when your delivery arrives, the drawers come down, you see he’s cut and then you think “Oh…Ok then. Now what do we do about this?”.
Those teenage years of giving awkward first-date handjobs by the dumpster behind McDonald's, the fellatio-technique that you worked so hard to perfect that summer you discovered Gaydar, the endless nights spent alone on a Friday evening wanking into a face-cloth as you couldn’t be bothered to wash your hair and go out – all completely worthless.
So what does one do in a situation like this? When you’re used to not having to lube your old gent up like a glazed ham to enjoy a quick shuffle before work, having some sort of hand lotion around is always advised (just make sure that it isn’t Clarins or any other expensive shit though – that 90 seconds could end up costing you) or maybe improvise with any other liquid-based product (balsamic vinegar, olive oil, some sort of Mediterranean dressing perhaps? Oh - some romaine lettuce, olives and a sprinkle of black pepper sounds good too. What were we talking about again?).
The easiest solution of course would be to just sit on the damn thing but then what’s the fun in that? We have things in our fridges that would serve the same purpose, and we wouldn’t have to waste our data allowance and battery asking them to come over would we?
This is the biased opinion of a British male and frequent visitor to men’s underpants for 15 or so years. What are your thoughts on this? Are you fore or against?