Tuesday, May 5, 2009

To America, We're Coming!


I'm always tempted to channel Yakov Smirnov when I consider just how magical a place America is, how lucky I am to live here and how different it could have been had my four-inch-fathers not made the perilous journey to freedom. Ron's grandfather's dick, born in Klengel, Germany, departed on the Bremen in 1935, fleeing Nazi persecution and hoping to start a new life in a land of opportunity and tolerance.

He arrived at Ellis Island on May 27. His name was Moishe Hyattinksky's Schmeckel, but it was Americanized by an immigration officer to Hyatt P. Niss. He rented a room from a cousin in Queens and looked for employment. Life for dicks just off the boat was hard, but not in a good way. In Germany Moishe had led a team of scientists doing testicular cancer research. But his credentials were meaningless in the new country, so he found work as a test subject in a urology lab six blocks from his cousin's apartment. For ten cents a day he'd submit to experiments of a kind he used to conduct on rat dicks. It was grueling, but he managed to survive without working the 15 hour days that many of his brethren were spending in Lower East Side sweat shops sewing shirts and pants.

Eventually he met a spirited, petite vagina, herself an immigrant from Austria, and they started a family. In 1939 Moishe left the urology lab to start a business importing cock-rings from sympathetic Gentile friends of his in Munich. German technology was world-famous for a reason, and soon Moishe was making a lot of money, much of which he used to sponsor other schmeckels seeking freedom.

Moishe died shortly after I was born, but family lore has it that when he first saw me, he gasped "Die tests! Ich habe ihn." He believed all those experiments he subjected himself to had altered his sperm, creating a mutant gene that must have skipped a generation. Moishe was only four inches; enough said.

So this blog is dedicated to Moishe and to America's promise. The Statue of Liberty says "Give us your poor, your tired, your huddled penises longing to be free." As if she knew where my destiny lay.

What a country!
blog comments powered by Disqus