Words by Alice White
Good news! You’re well on your way to learning about under-dick, but first things first, the grammatical style of under-dick will be as I have written it so far. Under-dick. Language is fluid and fashionable and I am a part of that. Hopefully by coining the term “under-dick” I’m already more pioneering and graceful than any other white online joker, doing things like making fun of the word “bae”, unaware that it’s just another shitty instance of how we’re pinching all our internet vernacular from teenagers and at the same time sniggering at it. This is new; under-dick is fresh! This is something I can take credit for, something I can be proud of, something my children will be proud of. UNDER-DICK.
So what is an under-dick? Well, like a thigh gap, it’s something new for you to worry about, but this time it’s for men! I first found out about it while playing doctors and nurses. Very sexy, right? There weren’t any nurses though, just a doctor, which happened to be me, playing Dr Gregory House. I'd really gotten dressed up for it too, grabbing a shirt out of my wardrobe to match with the pair of Adidas firebird bottoms I inexplicably already had on during this particular sexual situation. I was even walking around my bedroom with a limp, saying really unnecessarily sexist things about prostitutes, just like on the TV show. Luckily for my partner I also had slightly baggy latex gloves on. Now before you start screaming, what kind of person has rubber gloves who isn’t a serial killer, I’m staying at my mother’s house and she’s having chemo. (Side note: Did you know that other people’s chemo can get at you? For goodness sake read up on your poisons before you go caring for anyone other than yourself.) I hope this paints a decent picture of what my life is like. I did think I’d write about my mother’s cancer at some point, but admittedly, I didn’t think it would be like this – briefly and so people wouldn’t think I’m a murderer. “What’s going on here?” I say suddenly, prodding at him in the bit I once heard being called a “grundle”, probably subconsciously trying to give him a rest from my powerful sensuality. This was something new, something familiar but fresh, something hidden. “What IS this?!” I squeak again and with that, sex turned into farce then into science. Just like in the labs.
You’ve got your main dick, that’s the way it’s always been. Your old dick is out in the open, it’s on the front of your body, it’s a moveable object. Then you’ve got your balls, or fake balls, or no balls - not important about the balls, literally no one cares about your balls. I’ve slept with someone with a fake post-cancer ball (being the Pied Piper of tumors that I am) and it was boring because it was so realistic it was just as tiresome as regular balls. Anyways, whatever you’ve got there, behind them, there’s the gooch right? WRONG. That’s what we’re now calling your under-dick. Push and grab a little bit and there’s something that feels awfully like a secret penis. This was confirmed by bravely typing in “dick” into an image search, which was when I discovered that your penis’s core, the Corpora Cavernosa, goes right the way back, rooted like a grand tree. In the cross section diagram I saw these blood vessels actually look like long batteries, which I enjoy metaphorically but don’t want to make too much of a fuss about. What I’m trying to say is half your dick is under your skin.
I want this to be the start of a big conversation about how much of the male anatomy we can critique. Let’s look at the thigh gap. That meant absolutely nothing, but still teenagers and grown women with low self-esteem were wild about it. If you don’t know what a thigh gap is, which you do because you’re reading gonzo articles on a porn site in the middle of the day, it was about how thin you were compared to how wide your hips are leaving a gap between your legs when you stood up straight. It’s a way of measuring how hungry you are compared to how feminine your skeleton is. It was berserk. When I was at school it was the “top of the arm to boob ratio” thing, which was really just to make sure your tits weren’t just fatty. Well guess what, it’s under-dick time.
I only like men with prominent under-dicks and so do all my hot model friends. We’re looking out for it now like it’s the '80s and under-dicks are hedge funds. What is it that we’re looking for? Is it girth? Is it length? Well because I’m making this up as I go along I’m going to say strength, it’s the strength of your under-dick that’s important, how hard it is and stuff like that. And girth. I’ve decided girth is a part of it now as well. From now on, measuring needs to be done from the base, which’ll hopefully give you maybe another 6 inches, but it gives that to everyone else too. Do you pelvic floor exercises. Lose a bit of weight, or at least be the right kind of curvy. I know about it and now everyone reading this article knows about it too, but what about the people who have age restrictions on their browsers? Do me a favor and bring it up in real life conversations. Not in a “do you know what a under-dick is?” sort of way, but like you’ve always known about it, “he was hot, but his under-dick script was diabolical”. I need to get it into circulation so people can start to feel paranoid about it almost immediately.
I don’t have a cock and I don’t want one, but I’m glad I know people who do happen to have that let me touch theirs. People who are finding my impressions of House increasingly charmless. People who have sports news apps on their phones. People who are reading the sports news apps and ignoring me while I fill one of the gloves with lube and questioning out loud, to no one in particular, “is this what a fleshlight feels like do you reckon?” People who let me conduct experiments on them while I whinge “it’s for work” as an excuse, which then means that a couple of nights later I have to desperately scribble down an article about under-dick to convince my lover that I’m legit and my life means something, and I’m not just some 26-year-old girl dressed as House in her mother’s chemo gloves. And sometimes wig.
Alice White is a badly behaved writer and ex-sex and dating columnist from Scotland. She has the accent and everything. And also really terrific hair. Follow her on Twitter at @alicewhitey for dick jokes and public eye rolling.