We Just Draw Dicks To Pass The Time

I was sitting in Introduction to Meteorology earlier this week, which is obviously one of my classes. Even though my professor is hilarious and I am vaguely interested with the class, I still have a hard time paying attention. I attribute this to the face that it is a science class, a subject that I have no skill in or patience for. When I have trouble paying attention, I usually participate in things that are going to be of no benefit to anyone, and I try to be funny, but like Carlos Mencia, rarely succeed.

So on this particular afternoon, I was sitting in my seat in the back of the room trying to figure out how to draw a fucking isopleth so that I wouldn't fail the quiz that I have to take about eleven hours from right now. I quickly became bored and zoned out, and thought about resting my head on my arm and taking a quick nap (which always results in me twitching myself awake and falling off of my desk which sends everyone around me into fits of laughter and taunting), but realized that I wasn't as tired as I normally was.

I searched my immediate vicinity for something that I could possibly entertain myself with. I thought about getting a book out of my bag, but apparently people don't read books anymore and I would be chuckled at by my roommate, who happened to be sitting right next to me. So, then I thought about sending out a text message, but to whom? I couldn't think of anyone or anything to say, so I mentally drew a line through that idea.

Then, fate (or something, I don't know if I believe in fate. Talk to Mike Buesink about this, he'll give you a good argument that will quickly turn into something unbelievably irrelevant to the subject at hand.) intervened. My friend Kayla, who sits one row to the right of me and one desk up, grabbed her planner out of her backpack--probably to mark down that we had a quiz on Friday. I did no such thing. I keep it all up in the noggin.

She jotted her note down, and then dropped the planner on top of her backpack, that was sitting on the ground beside her chair. It was plainly exposed, and I counted to 50-Mississippi before I made my move. I slyly reached down and snatched her planner from on top of her bag.

I got out my black pen and wondered what I should write in her notebook, which is a stupid thing to say, because you and I both know that I had it in my head what I was going to draw as soon as I hatched my plan to snag the planner.

Naturally, I drew cocks.

Now, for those of you who do not know what a "cock" is, I'll list a definition and some synonyms. A cock is the male sex organ. It is commonly referred to as: dick, dong, shlong, wang, purple-headed yogurt slinger (courtesy of James Van Der Beek), the octagon (Brian Fantana), weiner, mushroom head, lighthouse, and if you want to be politically correct, penis. There are many others, feel free to let me know if you have any creative ones that I haven't listed, or something cool I don't even know about.

I drew cocks all over September 21, 20, and 19th.

So, after this random act of nonviolence, my rommate and I shared some laughs, and then he took the planner and drew more dicks on it. We laughed some more, because we are unfathomably immature 19-year-olds.

If you're wondering, they looked kind of like this:

Later on that day I started to think about why I had drawn penises all over my friend's planner. Apparently she plays basketball, and her coach looks at her planner every week. She plays girls basketball too, and her coach is a woman. This means that she's a lesbian. I wondered how she would react, or if she would know what they were. I began to take solace in the fact that I had written, "nuclear missile" next to one of them. I thought maybe she'd just think and Iranian or North Korean had gotten a hold of her star shooting guard's weekly planner.

I couldn't come up with a viable reason for why I had drawn weins on her planner. There was no real good reason, and this bothered me. I then wondered why every guy from the age of like 12 to at least...well I don't know how long it lasts, loves to draw the male anatomy all over everything. There is absolutely no plausible reason for something like this to take place. My roommate and I lived in a dormitory last year, and we tried to put a dry erase board up outside of our room door so that we could have a quote of the day. It was there one night, and the next morning there were 36 dicks drawn on it. What good did that do anyone?

One night this past summer, I passed out at a sleepover with a few of my friends (you know, we were playing chess and scrabble and watching season one of The Hills), and I woke up the next morning there were at least 20 cocks drawn on my body with purple marker. I'm sure it was funny at the time, but was it really worth it? I mean, they laughed about it for probably about ten minutes, but beyond that all it did was make me sprint into my house the next morning so that I could reach the bathroom for an hour long shower scrubbing before my parents saw me and thought that I was some kind of freak.

There was also that phase in high school, where you'd have to wash your car every three days, because if it got at all dirty, there would be cocks finger-drawn all over it whenever you came out to the student parking lot after basketball practice.

Then there was the amazing movie, Superbad. They talked about the dick-drawing thing being a disease, but they gave erroneous information. The character in the movie said that, "It's not a big deal. Something like 8 percent of kids do it." That is not true. At least not among the people that I hang out with. It's more like 98 percent of the kids that I know. One could argue that it's the crowd I hang out with, since they are some unorthodox dudes, but I don't buy it. There were countless kids on my dormitory floor that I'm absolutely positive carried around dry erase markers in their jean pockets just so they could draw meat sticks on unsuspecting boards.

Anyway, this has been bothering me all week. I want to know why kids, guys especially, are so into drawing penises on everything. It seems like it might be unhealthy, and I've thought about quitting the habit. I think it might be harder than stopping nicotine, though, because every time I see blank spaces on pieces of paper, I want to get a thick pointed Sharpie and just go to town. All I need is some justification for drawing weiners on things. If anybody has any input to this, please let me know. I haven't been sleeping, it's been driving me insane.

This is worse than the time I spent a whole week trying to figure out why anybody likes Nickelback.