Citizen of the Month

the writing and photography of Neil Kramer

Therapy

photo

Woman: “You really enjoy a woman’s body?”

Neil: “Is there anything better in God’s world?”

Woman: “How do my breasts taste to you?”

Neil: “Like milk and honey. Like the Holy Land described in the Bible. I still remember that from Hebrew School. A land of milk and honey.”

Woman: “Put your fingers inside me again. It felt so good before.”

Neil: “You know, I wonder if all of my problems in life are because my mother never breast-fed me. Maybe all those annoying lactivists online are right. Doctor Spock and Gerber fucked up an entire generation. Every issue with Sophia and Juli all come down to my using baby formula.”

Woman: “I love when you touch my pussy like that.”

Neil: “If you think about, it’s truly amazing that a baby can come out of a woman’s vagina. I never had a child so I’ve never seen a woman give birth. And I usually hide my eyes when they have those scenes in documentaries on PBS.”

Woman: “Oh my god. Harder.”

Neil: “But clearly, the vagina is one the eight wonders of the world! You think my mother still remembers giving birth to me? I owe her a lot, don’t I? She gave birth to me, for godsake! I’m glad I’m going to Paris with her for her birthday.”

Woman: “I want your cock in me now.”

Neil: “Have you ever been to Paris? Maybe you will know the answer. Should we bring Euros with us from the States, or get them over there?”

A VOICE comes from BELOW!

Penis: “Jesus Christ. This dialogue sucks.”

Neil: “Huh? Who said that?”

Penis: “Ha Ha, it’s me, Neil. Sorry to interrupt your little fantasy here, but your dialogue was putting me to sleep faster than when you were taking those 40mg of Prozac.”

Neil: “I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

Penis: “Stop talking to her so much and fuck her already. It’s a fantasy. You don’t have to talk to her so much in your own fantasy.”

Neil: “This is my fantasy, Penis. Not yours.”

Penis: “Who is this fantasy chick in your bed anyway?”

Neil: “It’s none of your business. And we’re not in my bed. We’re on her couch.”

Penis: “Won’t Juli be upset that you’re shagging some other woman in your fantasy?”

Neil: “Can we change the subject, Penis?”

Penis: “OK. So, are you still excited about your trip to Paris… with your mom?”

Neil: “Yes.”

Penis: “Any plans to go to New Zealand?”

Neil: “Not yet. It’s complicated.”

Penis: “I see. Still watching the Sopranos every night… with your mom?”

Neil: “Yes. We’re almost at Season Three. How do you know all this about my life?”

Penis: “I follow you on Facebook.”

Neil: “You’re on Facebook?”

Penis: “Who isn’t on Facebook nowadays? You should “like” my Facebook page.”

Neil: “You have a Facebook page?”

Penis: “Don’t you?”

Neil: “No. And I’m not “liking” the Facebook page of my Penis.”

Penis: “By the way, I saw your last status update. Boo-hoo. Your usual weepy stuff to get the mombloggers to care about you. “I’m thinking of looking for a therapist in NYC…””

Neil: “Stop it. Don’t read it — out loud.”

Penis: ““I’m thinking of looking for a therapist in NYC. Why? Because – well why did I feel the need to tell Facebook that I was thinking of looking for a therapist in NYC? How can I be an open and good friend to you, and listen to your stories, if I’m always so obsessed with my own stuff. I need to find someone who takes my insurance. At the same time, I wonder if therapy is just a waste of time, and I can just work out everything on my own by crowdsourcing my life with you. Veronica, please call me in two weeks and make sure I really put some effort into this. Action over talk.””

Neil: “Jesus.”

Penis: “You start looking for a therapist yet?”

Neil: “Not yet.”

Penis: “Why the need for a therapist — all of a sudden?”

Neil: “You know. Issues.”

Penis: “WAIT A MINUTE. Isn’t there a female therapist in the Sopranos that Tony Soprano goes to? The one with the nice legs and great ass?”

Neil: “Yeah. So what?

Penis: “You start watching this show with your mother… and suddenly you’re thinking about going to a therapist? OH, MAN. Why didn’t I see this at once — that fantasy women you’re fucking on the couch — is your imaginary new therapist?! You haven’t even found one yet, and you’re already doing her in your head — one who looks like Lorraine Bracco!”

Neil: “No, I’m not.”

Penis: “And then while you’re talking about your so-called “issues”, she’ll be sucking me off with her wet therapist’s lips.”

Neil: “That’s disgusting. You’re a male pig! I don’t WANT to know you!”

Penis: You don’t want to know me?

Neil: I read a quote on Pinterest that said “You are only as good as your friends. Embrace positive-oriented friends.” And YOU are never positive-oriented.”

Penis: “I’m a fucking COCK! I’m true to who I am. YOU’RE never positive-oriented. You’re the phony one.”

Neil: “I’m not a phony.”

Penis: “Oh no? And why did you go to BlogHer again this year? How many women did you imagine sucking your cock there?”

Neil: “I went to BlogHer to learn from my peers! To grow as a blogger!”

Penis: “That wasn’t the only thing growing during the fashion show.”

Neil: “Listen. I respect you that you have a point of view. I’m learning to listen to all voices, no matter how diverse. But let’s face it. You’re a Penis. I’m a man. I’m the one with the brain. Do you know what I got on my verbal and math SAT scores? I was in the top 4% of all seniors in the United States of America! I don’t need to listen to you.”

Penis: “You’r afraid. I get it. You’re afraid of real relationships, afraid of intimacy, afraid of everything. So you play it safe. You flirt with married women. You have a relationship with a woman a million miles away. You start fantasizing about shagging some female therapist on her couch rather than going for some real help!”

Neil: “You’re crazy. You’re insane! I won’t stand for this. I’m leaving!”

Penis: “Where are you going to go? Where are you going to hide? I’m always going to be with you?”

Neil: “No, you’re not! Not if I use this new steak knife my mother got at Bed Bath and Beyond with that 20% off coupon!”

Penis: “You want to cut me off? Go for it. Do it! I dare you!”

Neil: “I will! I will! Don’t tempt me!”

Penis: “Listen, you miserable piece of shit. I’m the only one who really knows you. Cares for you. Sympathizes with you. This is real therapy here. Tough love therapy. We’re a team, Neil. If I’m happy, you’re happy. If your happy, I’m happy. I’m tired of getting blowjobs in your imagination. You need to face reality, Neil. That’s your first step in recovery. Admit to me that you were fantasizing about some imaginary female therapist.”

Neil: “I’m not one of those guys.”

Penis: “Yeah, yeah, a progressive liberal white dude who would respect his female therapist, and never think about her naked.”

Neil: “I don’t even have a female therapist. This is all hypothetical.”

Penis: You’re missing HER. Aren’t you?

Neil: Of course I do. I miss our conversations. Our dinners together.

Penis: And what else? Why are you fantasizing about this therapist?

Neil: Shut up.

Penis: “You need to do this, Neil. You are weak, Neil. You are weak. You need to do this for HER. For you mother. For everyone on the internet. Tell me the truth. Tell yourself the truth. Tell me about this imaginary therapist. Tell me you wanted to fuck her. Say it. Say it!

Neil: “Yes, Yes, Yes. I was imagining fucking this imaginary female therapist. She was just so nice and compassionate and listened to me and so smart and she kept one button open on her soft blouse, and I could imagine her breasts in my mouth, and… I’m sick. I’m a sick and terrible person. I am immoral. I am self-absorbed. I am sexist and racist and homophobic and I don’t even like Indian food, even though I always say I love it when I go out to dinner with my college friends from Columbia, just so they can’t accuse me of being overtly Eurocentric. I’m the worst. I’m a shell of a man. God should strike me down with a thunder bolt right now and I will deserve it.”

Penis: “Time’s up. That will be $150.”

Neil: “Do you accept United Healthcare as insurance.”

Penis: “No.”

Truth Quotient: 100% True

26 Comments

  1. I like the way your penis thinks.

  2. The only thing I can bring myself to say here is:

    Come ON!! How could you not like Indian food?! For Christ’s Sake!

  3. You’re a mess. Help is a phone call away.

  4. Maybe sex therapy would be more helpful? 🙂 Please don’t cut off your penis. They’re not the easiest things to reattach.

    I related to this post a lot. Except for the penis part. And women (at least not any I’m aware of) don’t have conversations with our vaginas. Or clits, or labias, or anything else in that general area. I wonder why. Maybe I should try it just to see if it answers back.

  5. It’s times like this I think, “Damn! I should have gone to Neil’s short fiction session at BlogHer!”

  6. BRAVO! **stands and claps wildly**

  7. Dude. You are pussy whipped by your penis!

  8. I’m not sure a steak knife would be the best choice in this situation.

  9. When did you get the penis?

  10. At least your penis talks to you. Mine has been giving me the silent treatment ever since the ‘calloused hands incident of 1998.’

  11. “Positive Oriented Penis on Pinterest”

  12. It is *so* hard to find a therapist who takes insurance.

  13. Marinka’s response was certainly the best.

    I noticed that your penis doesn’t have a complete grasp on the difference between your and you’re.

    That said in case you’re ever in Minnesota I LOVED my therapist there. She was amazing. And pretty, and talked about sex a lot. Which made my midwestern self uncomfortable. I didn’t need to think about my therapist bending over — I was there to solve my issues not acquire new ones!

  14. So… I am very curious: Does your penis’ voice come from the outside like another character or does it talk to you through your head like a voice over?

    Does it sound like you? Higher pitch? Lower pitch? Booming voice like Moses? Or like Anthony Wiener?

    Asking all these because you are turning this into a screen player right? It would be like “Look Who’s Talking. Genitalia Edition”

  15. Was I the only one totally disgusted with how this post started? And quit reading? I’ve been reading you for years and years… You used to post fun interesting posts. What happened?

  16. Instead of “under the sheets” or “in bed”, I’m going to start ending my fortune cookie fortunes in “with your mom”.

  17. This reminds me of something I haven’t read in a long time. Is it Beckett’s Waiting for Godot? Or wait, maybe it’s not that. Shit, I guess I’ve been out of school for too long.

    Ironically I recently posted about therapy, too. Only it was from a real session with a therapist. Maybe I need to talk about my vagina with him. I have issues.

    loved this. obviously.

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