Larry and his Schlong Hi. My name is Larry. I have a schlong. It has served me well over the years; everything good in my life has been bestowed upon me by my schlong.
Until I was 13, my schlong's name was Joe. But on my birthday my father took me to a strip joint. It was then that I became one with my schlong, and now its name is Larry just like me, for we are one and the same.
Ya know what I do every day?
I wake up at 1:00 PM.
I look for clothes that do not have sperm stains. Having found none, I pick the articles of clothing with the least sperm stains.
I dress.
Having dressed, I strip.
I shave my pubic hairs and put them into a large container. Whenever the container becomes full, I dump it out of my 27th story window.
Then I log on to the internet and check my email. I delete all of my solicited mail, and then open my unsolicited mail.
I delete all of the unsolicited mail that does not contain the words "sex" or "tits" in it.
I visit the websites advertised in these remaining emails.
When I'm done with all this it's usually about 2:00 PM.
Then I go outside of my apartment building.
I go to McDonalds.
I enter McDonalds.
I watch the cashiers run away.
I order a hamburger and hit on whatever cashiers remain.
I eat the hamburger.
I go home.
I masturbate and try to hit old people with my cum from my 27th story window.
I stretch.
I bend over as far as I can and try to perform oral sex on myself.
Having failed, I go to my shelf and remove my piggy bank.
I masturbate with the piggy bank, entering my schlong into the coin slit.
Having ejaculated, I empty the coins. Most of them stick to the sides.
I count those that don't stick to the sides.
I compare the amount of money I have to the amount of money a surgery that removes your ribs and allows you to perform oral sex on yourself costs.
I marvel at the substantial difference of amount.
I go out to the newsstand. The man who owns the newsstand is my friend. His name is Tell-Afari. His friends are my friends too. Our friends consist of taxi drivers, newsstand owners, and the pedophile at Columbus Bagels.
I greet Tell-Afari. I would shake his hand, but I don't for obvious reasons. He is my friend; I do not wish to do him such a misdeed.
I buy a newspaper and a magazine of pornography.
I get change.
I go home.
I put the change in my piggy bank.
I pry open a drawer next to my shelf.
I try to fit the magazine of pornography into the drawer.
When it doesn't fit, I begin to read it and masturbate at the same time.
Having ejaculated, I try once more to fit the magazine of pornography into the drawer.
Having failed, I throw it out of my 27th story window. I begin to read the newspaper. I look at the "help wanted" section.
I look for a job that will make me enough to get my desired surgery.
I find none.
I throw the newspaper out of my 27th story window.
It is about 3:00 PM now.
I go to Columbus Bagels and have a meeting with my friends.
We talk about stuff such as ripping off passengers, sexually harassing passengers and passersby, and the women we wish we'd fucked last night.
At 4:00 PM we leave.
I go to a place with woman and hit on them.
I return home.
If I am alone, I masturbate and wish I wasn't a virgin.
If I return with somebody else then I thank god and die of a heart attack.
When I finish masturbating I turn on the TV guide channel.
I watch the listing for every single one of the channels, looking for porn TV.
If there is no porn on, I order porn from the Playboy Channel.
I watch until I fall asleep.

One day, on my 26th birthday, I decided that I was going to have sex. My schlong was beginning to separate itself from me. It was angry that I could not pleasure neither it nor myself. My schlong likes pleasure. I thought that it was only prudent to submit to my penis; after all, I owed it the very reason of my existence.
I thought about the possibilities. There was prostitution. But prostitution was illegal everywhere except for Nevada.
I counted the money in my piggy bank.
I found out the price of a ticket by plane to Nevada.
I compared the amount, and found that I was lacking.
I pondered the amount of time that it would take for me to get to Nevada by bus or hitchhiking.
I calculated that I would not be in Nevada by the end of the day.
My schlong decided that sex was needed today.
I accessed a listing of New York laws over the internet.
Having perused, I found that prostitution was, in fact, illegal.
Fuck. Oh well, I probably didn't have enough money for a whore anyway. Plus, there is no guarantee of a whore being hot.
I opened the door of my house.
I walked to the door next to my apartment.
I knocked on this door.
A lady opened. I knew it was time.
I pushed her down and closed the door, and let my schlong control me.
When my schlong had pleased both of us significantly, I pulled it out, bid the lady farewell, and went next door to my house.
I entered and fell asleep.
I woke up to police knocking down my door.
They handcuffed me and brought me to the place in which I am right now. I like it here. Granted, the bars are imposing and the gray walls are boring, but I like it here. I masturbate throughout the day, and I get lots of sex. There are many big men with equally big schlongs and large anuses. I like them, and so does my schlong. I hope I'll be able to stay here in my room forever, just me and my schlong.