He Got Out His Big Ten Inch (1940s)

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The doctor said the wrist would heal.

I knew he would.

It had been a terrible operation.

"If I hadn't sewed you up, everything'd fell out, "he said, as he played
with his doctor's tools. "That'll teach you to take your finger off it."

"But I'm a boogie man," I protested, "a chocolate pork chop man.
What else could I do? She squeezed my lemon."

"Well, there's such a thing as too much boogie, but I'm a lemon
squeezing daddy myself," he boasted smugly. "I'm a doctor for
women, I don't fool around with men. I tell 'em the remedy's right
here in my hand."

"Well, wipe it off and put it away" I said, squeezing my nose.
"What's that I smell?"

"Must be meat balls," he replied. "My wife likes me to grind her meat,
'cos she's wild about meat balls. Yes, she likes me to clean her fish,
even pick her crabs, but what she needs is her meat ground bad."

"I've been told I'm a poor grinder, even with my business in my
hand," I admitted. "But I'd rather have a woman than a sissy man."

The doctor nodded and went on, "One time, I told her, 'You've got
Jordan River in your hips, mama, daddy's screamin' to be baptized.
She gave me a grin and said, 'Do you want it?' I put my hands on
my hips, looked her up and down and said, 'Show me what you got!'
And you know what? She showed it all."

"I saw the little red drawers Mary usta wear, once," I confessed,
blushing. "She hung them on the line, and the sun refused to shine.

She put them on the shelf, they got up and walked theirself. Ah,
those little red drawers Mary usta wear."
The doctor looked thoughtful. "I say to my wife sometimes, 'If you
were a dresser, I would pull open your drawers, and I would take a
peep at your little Santa Claus'. She looks me in the eye and says, 7
ain't gonna let you see my Santa Claus:"

I left the doctor's and walked on down the street. I bumped into
Lucille. "I'm five feet standin', six feet layin' down," she shouted.
"I'm big as a barrel but I'm round, round, round from struttin' my
stuff, struttin' it in the rough."

I did my best to resist her advances. "Now mama, you act like a salt
water whale, when you hear music you want to shake your tail. You
get up and you begin to shout, but still you don't know what in the
hell it's all about. 'Cause you're dirty."

Her face got all nasty and she said, "I'm gonna keep on doin' it, and
you can't make me stop, 'cos your lips'll never touch my lollypop."

"Maybe I can live without it," I thought, as I walked on.

Then I saw Minnie, outside the butcher shop, a 'closed' sign on the
door. "Wonder where is my butcher man at now?" she wondered
aloud, "I've been looking for him all day long."

A small crowd gathered as she spoke out, "I'm going to tell
everybody I've got the best butcher man in town. He can slice your
ham, he can cut it from the fat on down. He slice my pork chops and
he grind my sausage, too. Ain't nothin' in the line of butcherin' that
my butcher man can't do."

A male voice from the back opined, "She sells good meat herself.
She keeps it fresh, don't smell bad, it's the best old meat that you
ever had."

Several other men grunted in agreement.

"The boys all tell her she cuts meat so neat, "the man went on.
"The thing about it, her meat's so cheap."

Minnie wasn't too pleased with that and when another man
asked for one more greasing, she left in a hurry. He watched
her go. "Ah, my sweet petunia." he mused. "May you weep
like a willow, sling snot like a turtle dove."

When they discovered they had something in common, the
men lingered to reminisce about past exploits. "I'm a
ramroddin' daddy," said one, "my rod is long and slim, and
every time I load a gun for a woman, you know it's too tight,
Jim."

"I don't know about long and slim," a well-built man said, "but
my woman always pleads, 'If it don't fit, don't force it'."

We all laughed.

"I'm the horny frog from Texas, "said a short man, but nobody
believed him. "I'm the honey dripper," another one said
lasciviously.

"I ask every woman I see, 'Will you let me drip my honey into
your honeycomb?'"

"I like to choose," said a bookish man. "I ain't gonna let these
women use my hard lead pencil night and day. Because my
lead is too valuable to be just trimmed away."

"So's my needle," leered another. "I tell 'em, Take it easy,
mama, while I stick my needle in.' And after awhile, I say, 'Here
your medicine come now, baby, put your leg upside the wall. I
don't want to waste none of it, mama. I want you to have it all'."

"I gotta bike by the name of Tillie." one claimed. "I ain't pumped
Tillie in a long time. I'm gonna pump Tillie tonight."

Another man staggered up. "I've been layin' pipe all day, boys, like
I never laid pipe before." He looked spent, but contented. "I lays
pipe these days, don't use my digger rough."

"Nor me," one of the group agreed. "I tell 'em, 'If you don't want
me to have your potatoes, don't mash my digger down so deep.'
Some times it takes three inches to dig potatoes, some time it takes
four," he went on. "When I find 'em deep, you know I mash it down
some more."

"Would that be in the garden or in bed?" one wit asked as we
laughed, happy to know there were better diggers among us.

I left them boasting to one another and went home to get ready to
go round the girlfriend's place. I'd been getting the cold bum
treatment lately. Last time I saw her, she'd said, "You can play with
my pussy but please don't dog it around. If you 're gonna mistreat
it, no pussy will be found."

I'd replied, "Pussy cat, pussy cat, where've you been so long? My
mouse done been here, packed his grip and gone." Shouldn't have
said "mouse", though. Then I tried to regain some lost ground.
"Let me play with your poodle -1 mean your little poodle dog."

When I got to her place, I knocked on the door. After awhile she
opened it, gave me a long appraising look and said, "In here with
your heavy stuff."

Sounded promising.

I followed her inside and said, "I'm gonna tell you in front, so you
won't feel hurt behind." She looked back over her shoulder,
"Nothing you got gonna hurt my behind."

"Don't worry," I said, "Hair parted in the middle is the only thing I
crave."

"Well, just don't come too soon."

We sat and listened to music before dinner, and my girlfriend's
eyebrows shot up when I took out my Big Ten Inch (record of the
band that plays The Blues). I told her I was a sixty minute man,
but by the look on her face she didn't believe me.

Dinner followed. "The shortest thing 'bout a hog is his grunt,"
she said. "The best thing about my joint is my hash."

After we'd cleaned away the dinner things, I decided to serenade
her with a song I'd written just a couple of days before.

I've got a pool playing baby, we plays pool all the time.
When we play on the table, everything sure is fine.

We play so hard, 'til her eyes turn cherry red.
I love the way she plays, 'cos she always use her head.

I take up my cue stick at sundown, we play 'til early dawn.
She knocks the ivories around, 'til everything is gone.

We roll them up and down, roll from side to side,
but I always drop them in, because the pocket's open wide.

She lowered her head and looked at me from under her
eyebrows. "This man thinks he's just my size," she said
provocatively. "I'm a hi-ballin' daddy, mama," I replied. She got
up and walked towards the bedroom. "I think I'm gonna let him
ride," she said to herself. I got up and followed her. "You're

messing with a jelly roll baker, now," I boasted, more hopeful
than expectant.

Things didn't start well. My hard lead pencil was more like a soft
salami. "Something's wrong with my little machine," I sobbed,
crestfallen.

The girlfriend didn't help.

"Well, I know you're twenty-seven, but you look like ninety-four,"
she said. "Maybe the cause of your condition is too much jelly
roll."

There was nothing for it, I had to concentrate on the boy in the
boat for quite a while.

And that's when things started to get better. Soon, she was
moaning, "Keep on churnin' 'til the butter come." I tried my best
to accomodate her. That's when she started to holler...

"Work, daddy, work!" she cried.

"Ride, daddy, ride!" I tried -

"Drill, daddy, drill!"- with pride.

We finished off with a Rocket 69, which shot us out of bed and
across the room.

One thing was certain. There weren't too many drivers who could
have done that!

E. Roder Haggard


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