When I received my acceptance letter from UCLA, I was ecstatic to move to Los Angeles, the land of fruits and nuts. Unfortunately, I have been greatly let down by the “hippie vibe” I was promised. If Los Angeles is so liberal, why is my uncircumcised penis is the subject of constant ridicule? I’d like to think being uncircumcised is a return to our primitive roots, an appreciation of the body the way our creator intended.
Perhaps I enjoy living on the edge. Every sexual encounter is a spiritual exercise in accepting the unknown. Will I get an STI? That’s not for me to know, but for my shaman to whisper into my ear during our next sage cleansing.
Knobcheese. We’ve all heard of it. How dare the yuppie patrons of Erewhon turn their nose up at my sword when I have encountered many a vegan taco with a dairy-free alternative so familiar to the aforementioned genital byproduct?
It seems as though my circumcised peers would rather mutilate the temple they refer to as their “body” than maintain sufficient hygiene practices… and I’m the dirty hippie. Call me whatever you want. I refuse to desecrate the sanctity of my terrestrial form.
I am uncircumcised and I am free.