It’s been a while since I electrified you with an old post, so, since I’ve been sick, and then… Sick, and after that… Sick… I thought this might be the perfect opportunity to bring back an oldie but goodie that I don’t think many of you saw. Plus, since it’s cold, some of you dude readers out there may be interested in this product. Or not, probably not. May I present to you “Some Thoughts on the Willy Warmer


Here are some things that no man has ever said to me:

  1. God DAMN my johnson is FREEZING! I wish I had a hot dog hugger.
  2. I have a million dollar idea. Can you knit?
  3. You know, underwear is okay… but what I really want rubbing up against my twig and berries is worsted weight yarn.

So maybe I don’t own a peeper of my very own, but marriage has taught me a few things about the standard sausage and it’s usage, so I feel confident when I say that there is not a single man on this planet that wouldn’t wear that thing as:

A. a mitten
B. underwear
C. Both, possibly on the same day, if they have do their own laundry.

Has your grandma has ever knit you a sweater? (full size, not a teeny one huge one for your master of ceremonies… that would be another post altogether…) then you know what cheap yarn feels like, and how it feels to sweat inside a cheap yarn shroud. It feels itchy, and I have never met a man that was tolerant of any sort of physical ailment. Every single one of them spends a week in bed over a runny nose. Should the illness or injury (or uncomfortable itchiness) include his yogurt slinger, make it two weeks, and a trip to the emergency room.

Does it come in sizes? I would think for the sake of the manufacturer that they would make them all one size. Extra extra large. They wouldn’t want all those small, medium, large, and extra large unsold Willy Warmers sent off to rot at the dollar store.

Also, I don’t think the common phrase “freezing ones balls off” counts as a mandate. In fact, if my information is accurate, that thing sweats more than a pregnant nun.

How you all walk around with those things I’ll never understand, but this is a bad gift. An itchsy pricksy makes for a sad baloney pony, and a shy trouser snake isn’t good for anybody.