I think that there may be no task on this Earth as difficult as getting somebody to tell me how big their dick is.
Now, I want to qualify this. I'm not asking for their literal real-life equipment's dimensions. I don't care about that and it's never relevant to me. What I am asking for is a decent working description of the private parts of somebody's character- usually their fursona, more often than not. This, to oppose the other possibility, is almost always relevant to me, because in a majority of these cases, drawing said character and their stickball gear is literally my job.
I am often, and I stress this for context, often a gateway artist for porn. What I mean by this is that people come to me and will want to be in something dirty for the first time in their fictional escapist lives. Which is cool! I like being the gatekeeper to the cartoon Bone Zone. It's fab, and gives me an undeservedly escalated sense of self-importance. What isn't awesome, however, is how someone can give me exhaustive pages of description going in wonderful, immense detail, and still forget to tell me how to represent their junk. I read their paragraph, type my reply and ask, "Well? How 'bout it?"
And they freeze. "Uh!" they stammer, stalling for time even though it's the internet. "Well. It's not huge."
Hold up. First off, bullshit. You didn't come to me to have me draw a tiny baby penis. The only time I draw small dicks is either something belonging to a pillow biter that'll look nice jingling like a christmas bulb while he gets his ass hammered, or an anatomy study for the government to put in 'Exhibit A' of my trial in the Hague. Chances are, if you watch me, you've never even seen me draw a penis that couldn't be described as 'huge.'
Secondly, why is everybody suddenly so afraid of seeming conceited when I ask them this?? It's your fantasy! I'm probably drawing you banging a five-foot-six raccoon with jugs so massive they could knock over full jars of sun tea with an errant turn, why all the trepidation now?? Because if there's one thing Norithics stands for, it's penis shaming. Right, yeah. The only time I've ever uttered "shame" and "cock" in the same sentence was when they were preceded by "It's a" and sandwiching "you won't show me your".
"Well!" they continue. "It's just, goodly sized."
Goodly? Goodly. They might as well have just uttered the phrase "Successive mango gameboys," because it had about as much useful information in it as that statement. There is no charting, no dimension, no gold standard of one US Dick Dollar that I can punch 'Goodly' into my Google Box and come out with a figure.
Now, I want to point out something. They didn't say "I don't care, just pick something and roll with it." If they did, I would! They didn't, though, because they do care. If I go too big or too small, they will vocally disapprove very clearly! It may be weird and petty, but it's true- boys care about how their dicks look, even if they don't realize it. But now I'm charged with realizing something that someone cares very much about, but has never put a lick of thought into what they find appealing about. It's like trying to tailor a suit for a jittery badger. Gimme inches (or metrics, I don't care)! Gimme real life comparisons (flashlight, zucchini, executive oscillating tower fan)! Gimme anything with an actual real dimension!
And then there's shit that people who like and think about this kind of thing don't even realize they care about: Like veins. I can go anywhere from
' clean-and-waxed pristine pricks to @Zipperchoke's towering electrocabling-infested throbmonsters, but I guarantee you'll want one way more than the other! Balls. You want them to nicely coinpurse like you're fucking on a cold hardwood floor, or dangly like someone tossed a couple of tennis balls in a sock? How about foreskin? Shit, it's nearly impossible to know that on first glance, I'm not psychic!
In conclusion, give this a little thought if you don't have an accurate reference or a picture you can compare to when it comes time for me to digitally lithograph your long john. Because it's not gay to think about your dick. It's only gay when I think about your dick.