Bigger 
And it is to the tune of “Oh I with I were a widdle Englith Thpawwow” which happens to be the same as “if you’re happy and you know it.”
Shake your dorsal fin
Shake your dorsal fin…yeah yeah…
No, “dorsal fin” doesn’t have quite the same ring to as “groove thing.”
Pity.
I can’t remember who said this “Man has reached a stage where he finds himself not the endpoint of evolution, but its conscious agent.”
I say contact your local RadioShack and piercing parlor and see what they can rig up for you.
Every now and then, I find myself wondering if it wouldn’t be worth it anyway.
I seem to remember a time of my life where I had something quite similar to that going on only, you know, lower down. It involved a great deal of subterfuge, careful placement of textbooks, and discomfort.
Ah well, in a few years I’m sure those will be the good old days, since I’ll remember the constant erections but forget what it was really like being in Grade Eight.
Crocodiles, on the other hand, they have it made. You sleep, you sunbathe, you sneak up on stuff and eat it, and all you really need to worry about is staying the hell away from Steve Irwin.
Nah, I’d rather do Grade Eight again than have to worry about Steve Irwin.
I don’t get it. Devouring us is one way of getting our sperm.
Plus, we’re not so much the “higher” life form we think we are (as my comment demonstrates). Look at those sea lions or walruses or whatever where the males bash each other until they’re scarred and bloody so that the winner gets the chicks. Pretty much sums up some of the bars I’ve been to.
Yah, but the parallel would be closer if the sea lions and walruses and whatever bashed each other until they were scarred and bloody, and then the chicks (? I’m sure “cows” is the correct designation, but I may get myself flamed if I’m not careful) went off with whomever they fancied in the first place.