I’m sure there are other people on earth who, when they are at their wit’s end, call their moms and say “Mooooommmmm! How do I paint penises?!” but I don’t know any offhand.

Fortunately, my Mom is a font of useful suggestions for capturing the wily wang in paint, and I am now back on track.

And that probably says way more about the oddity of my life than anybody really needs to know.

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