1. The “Jackrabbit.”
You know when you are awoken at 6:30 in the morning while just embarking on a soul-crushing hangover to the sounds of heavy construction going on right outside your door? The sound of the machinery just banging relentlessly, the jackhammer seeming to bore into your very skull with its impassioned cries of “BZZZZZZ FUCK YOU, CONCRETE,” everything pushing you forcefully towards seppuku — it’s unbearable. Well, imagine that being enacted on your genitals, all the while being looked upon with this unmistakable gaze of “Boy howdy, I’m really givin’ it to ya, babe! Mmm-hmmm, by cracky, I’m gonna tear this cooter up!” You cannot possibly imagine anything as unfortunate.
2. The “Bobbing For Apples.”
Oh, you poor, sweet prince. Someone told you that the best way to go about going down on a girl was to dive in headfirst like this was the state fair and you were trying to win yourself a fattened goose, water flying everywhere and bits of apple covering your entire face. You’re moving around incoherently, biting things, playing DJ Jaw Spasms with your tongue, and basically making it so we’re completely numb in the first ten seconds of action. Why is this? Who taught you that this was the way to go? Who led you down that yellow-bricked road of getting pulled up by the ears while she gently encourages you to move onto other things? You find that person, you go in like you’re pretending to shake their hand, and then you sucker-punch them in the stomach.
3. The “Self-Flagellator.”
Okay, so maybe things ended a bit more abruptly than you intended this time. It doesn’t happen often, but you feel kind of badly about it — understandable, it can break the mood if things were just starting to really heat up. But you know what breaks the mood into a hundred pieces, sets all of those pieces on fire, and then pours hydrochloric acid all over the charred remains? Spending the next twenty minutes apologizing for your performance and/or begging for forgiveness for something that no one was mad at you for in the first place. The thing about orgasms is that they can come from anywhere. If the Peen Patrol isn’t bringing them, why not take her to Tongue Town or Vibrator Valley or even Fingerblast Forest? Your options are limitless, no need to cry!
4. The “Double Standard.”
If you’re still the dude who thinks that a guy who gets his pick of the ladies is a Total Stud and the girl who is equally liberated is a Big Stinky Slut, you don’t deserve to be getting sex. You should be banished to the sexual outskirts where fedoras grow on bushes and the required uniform is a shiny, polyester, short-sleeve button down with the Playboy bunny stitched in gold on the breast pocket. We are all adults, we can all make our own choices, and we don’t need you choo-chooing in on the Misogyny Express to shame anyone about the life they lived before you met them.
5. The “Green Monster.”
I know that we have addressed the whole “it’s not the size of the prize; it’s the motion of the ocean” thing a zillion times, and we know it in theory, but guys can often get caught up in the measuring contest all the same. Look, it’s an understandable concern, and I’m sure that some people do have preferences when it comes to dimensions, but obsessing over it is not helping anyone. The idea of asking your date if an ex was bigger or if it’s too small or what they think and please tell me because my ego is made of the finest porcelain and even a zesty burst of wind could shatter it????? Come on, you know this isn’t good. If you need confirmation, scuttle over to one of the 17,000 female-centric porn Tumblrs and see just how often the star of that show is some guy with a huge weenie just wiggling it around for our amusement. Spoiler alert: It’s not. You’re good, we love you for who you are, no need to worry. Really. 
