The operation to transplant a penis has been in the news again recently, and I admit that the thought troubles be a little. Not that I am going to be in the market for any fresh trouser equipment you understand, but more as a general, if I can use the term, point.
I suppose that I should declare a position here, no pun intended, in that whilst I have no problem with bits of me being removed, once I have croaked, for the benefit of others, but I have no wish for the use of anyone else’s bits. Given a choice of a transplant or kicking the bucket and I’ll just check out thanks. If the assemblage of parts that make me up starts importing bits of someone else then I am no longer me if you see what I mean.
Anyway, back at the todger transplant. The first issue is that of skin tone. I don’t mean this in a racial sense so much as in that even within racial groups there is a wide variation in tones, so does one wait for one that matches? It could be pretty obvious to one’s partner in an intimate situation that we are not using original equipment here. Does that matter? I don’t know, but it might.
How about religious issues? One could have an uncut one cut I agree, but what if one’s preference was for uncut. Then there is the sensitive (OK, the whole thing is sensitive) issue of size. Does one ask for something a little longer or thicker?
Perhaps if one is a younger chap with aspirations to create a family and some accident takes away what you need for said procreation the offer of any replacement is welcome regardless. It isn’t anything that I have thought much about before writing this (although I did watch Percy at the cinema many years ago) and I am grateful that, as I have retired my personal parts, I will not be faced with the question myself.
The Voice of the Bloke at the Back 