How Progress Is Ruining the Handjob for Everyone. Mostly Me.

"Um... My weenis...?"

I’ve long been the handjob’s biggest fan. Don’t get me wrong; I enjoy open mic night as much as any other red-blooded guy. But there’s just something about a well-executed handjob — particularly the precision of the grip, the intentional changing of speeds and rhythm, and the determination in the provider’s eyes — that re-establishes my faith in American ingenuity while simultaneously turning me to loose change.

So you’d think I’d have been happy when the Shake Weight — which is, without a doubt, the single greatest advancement in handjob technology in my lifetime — was introduced. To perform exercises with the Shake Weight, all any woman needs to do, apparently, is just grab this phallic-looking device and start shaking. Up and down. Back and forth. Sure, there are other exercise programs out there to give you a tougher workout and possibly better results, but you could actually sell tickets to this one.

The result, the commercials declare, will be sculpted arms you’ll love showing off. And that’s where I have the problem.

See, that’s been my angle for years. Girlfriend doesn’t feel like giving up a quick tug job? I simply remind her of the health benefits. “You’ll be tightening and toning,” I’d say, casting off my trousers. “The repetitive motion is great for the back of your arms. Your triceps will love you!”

For the most part, it’s been pretty successful. But now comes the Shake Weight. And all that back-and-forth hand work I’ve come to love so much will be wasted on a goddam ten pound weight. As I see it, time that women spend working out with this thing is time they won’t be needing to bend their fingers around my johnson. And for that, I fucking hate you, Shake Weight.

Thanks for cutting into my action. I hope the next exercise fad comes and kicks your worthless ass.

Also, your commercials are awesome.

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