This one's got some balls

Literally. 

Pardon my language here, but I cannot restrain myself:

WHAT THE FUCK? 

This is a picture from the profile of a guy who just wrote to me. He has consciously, voluntarily posted this photo for all the world to see -- and I for one am gonna make for damn sure that the world gets a good long gander.

But back to my all-caps expletive -- I probably utter those same three words while browsing through about 90% of the dating profiles I see. This one time, however, I think I may have an answer to this typically rhetorical question. 

I have to say, I don't think this is a lapse in judgment on his part at all; indeed, I think his motivations are exactly what we are all afraid they are: He wants to show us that he has a giant wiener.

I was tempted to hypothesize that he has simply crammed a sock down his drawers, but then I took a step back and decided to psychoanalyze this tool...

As we’ve all observed before, a dude who has an inferiority complex about the size of his junk will often try to overcompensate by buying a Lamborghini, a Rolex or a Rottweiler which he will then parade around in an attempt to prove he is super-awesome despite his mini-penis. On the other hand, he would never pose for a photo such as the one in question because he would never want to call attention to his lacking nether-region.

But Douchenozzle, here, has not only posed for the photo – he has posted it on his dating profile. He has a big wee-wee and he needs to promote this fact because, sadly, it’s the only real thing he has going for him. He probably has a decent job – but only because his endowment has inflated him with enough arrogance to be able to bullshit his way into a mid-level position in some douche-laden industry such as sales or finance or real estate where brass balls can often get you farther than brains, enabling guys like this to unfairly leap up the ladder. He doesn’t want to advertise the job, however, because deep down he knows he’s a total fraud and could easily be outted if his boss knew that the notes he furiously takes in the daily morning meetings are actually doodles of boobies. He’s not very tall. He’s not good at sports. His hair line is receding. He has no savings. And he lives with his parents because he’s got really bad credit. But…if it’s a ten-inch dick you are looking for, now that he can supply. Does he have any clue what to do with it? Probably not. But that doesn't stop him from trying...which, in turn, answers my three-word question scrawled across the top of this page.