Dear Dr. Dix,
I’m a 24-year-old fella from southern Arkansas, and I reckon I got a problem no one here at the bait shop can help with. Ever since my, uh, little buddy started pointing due south (the way a hound dog’s tail looks when you mention the vet), I’ve been worried. Dr. Google says it might be Peyronie’s disease. My question is—should I be concerned about accidentally sodomizing myself? Sometimes it feels like my privates are trying to shake hands with my own cornhole, and I don’t rightly know if that’s a medical emergency or just God’s way of keeping me southern. Also, my new stepsister keeps giving me funny looks, but that might just be the meth. Please help.
—Befuddled in Bradley County
Dear Befuddled,
First off, let me commend you for your bravery. Most men from southern Arkansas only write in for tips on squirrel gravy or to see if moonshine can be used as a disinfectant, so it’s nice to get a real medical question for once. Peyronie’s disease, for the uninitiated, is when your junk takes on a bend sharper than a county road after a rainstorm. It’s not uncommon, but it can make urination feel like you’re watering the neighbor’s azaleas by accident.
Now, as for your concern about accidental self-sodomy: while anatomy has its limits, I regret to inform you that, unless you’re secretly some kind of circus oddity, your odds are pretty low. The human body is a marvel, but self-penetration via the downward dog isn’t something even evolution would consider. If anything, you’re more likely to invent a new yoga pose than end up in the ER explaining to Dr. Jenkins how you managed to lose a wrestling match with yourself.
That said, rural Arkansas is a place where ingenuity knows no bounds. If anyone could figure out how to break the laws of physics with nothing but a crooked penis and a cousin cheering you on, it’s y’all. But I’d wager your biggest risk is getting stuck in your jeans zipper or having to explain the situation to your pastor when he drops by unannounced.
As for your new step-sister, I’d advise you to keep your distance, at least until you’re sure she’s not just after your collection of commemorative NASCAR plates. Down here, family trees tend to fork about as often as the Ouachita River, so it’s best to tread lightly—and maybe invest in a lock for your bedroom door, just in case the meth goggles start to seem appealing.
In summary: your condition is more of a talking point at the local diner than a reason to panic. See a real doctor if you’re in pain, but rest easy knowing your rear entrance is safe for now. Just remember, the only thing that curves more than your penis in southern Arkansas is the story your uncle tells about the time he almost caught a catfish “this big.”
Stay curious, stay safe, and keep those medical mysteries coming,
Dr. Richard “Dinkie” Dix*
- Dr. Richard “Dinkie” Dix is a Board Certified Pediatric Urologist, Currently Practicing in Hollywood, California, and pro bono for the Catholic Diocese of Los Angeles
