Every few years a humor book arrives that is so brazen, so unflinchingly earnest about its patently ridiculous premise, that it becomes more than a gag: it becomes a cultural artifact. How to Live with a Huge Penis is that kind of book—a self-help manual for men suffering from the tragic, highly stigmatized condition known as OMG: Oversized Male Genitalia (helpfully defined in the book as “a genetic birth defect” marked by “absurdly large” growth).
This is the coffee-table equivalent of a whoopee cushion wearing a three-piece suit. It looks respectable. It sounds therapeutic. It reads like a support-group binder you’d receive after a very uncomfortable doctor’s appointment. And yet it remains one of the most committed, straight-faced parodies ever printed.
And the funniest part? The book absolutely means it—or at least behaves as though it does. Page after page of diagrams, clinical Q&A, safety procedures, historical case studies, and meditations—all dedicated to solemnly addressing the “silent suffering” of the over-hung.
Concept & Premise
The concept is elegantly stupid: a comprehensive self-help program for men afflicted with OMG, complete with diagnostic criteria (“Have you ever pinched your penis under a toilet seat?”), mandatory state-level registration guidelines (Vermont requires DMV photography—yes, really), and advice on surviving prejudice, dating, public spaces, and the ever-dangerous Parade of Pubes.
The authors—Dr. Richard Jacob and Rev. Owen Thomas—play the perfect comedy duo: the earnest clinician and the combative streetwise chaplain. Their alternating commentaries on trauma, discrimination, and interpersonal conflict form a running bit: therapy-vs-crowbar, compassion-vs-“Brockton style.”
The book spoofs every self-help trope imaginable: inspirational quotes, recovery mantras, historical uplift, family-coming-out narratives, and even a full poetic interlude (“Cobra”) allegedly by a world-renowned penis-themed poet.
It’s absurdity presented with such conviction that it loops back into brilliance.
Tone & Humor Style
- Deadpan clinical language applied to gonzo problems (uterine encroachment! sleeving! “sandpaper mode”!).
- Escalation through faux seriousness—simple inconveniences bloom into Dickensian tragedy.
- Faux-academic credibility: historical case studies of Einstein, Franklin, Lincoln, and Freud, all reinterpreted through OMG struggle.
- Therapist vs. Tough-Guy double act: Dr. Richard gently explains boundaries while Rev. Owen threatens to “solve it Brockton style.”
- Visual gags: minimalistic diagrams comparing an Average Male to an OMG Sufferer (page 8) are funnier because of their low-fi simplicity.
- Overly earnest self-help exercises: affirmation journals, risk-assessment guides, environmental prescreening before “unzipping” to loved ones.
It commits to the bit with Olympic-level discipline.
Themes & Satirical Targets
- Self-help rhetoric: The book dismantles the language of trauma processing and empowerment while simultaneously using it flawlessly.
- Medical jargon & diagnostic culture: OMG is treated like a CDC-recognized crisis with identifiable symptoms, lifestyle modifications, and a mortality rate.
- Social stigma & moral panics: The authors parody the way society demonizes marginalized identities—complete with discriminatory laws, slurs, and violence.
- Sex manuals & relationship guides: The S.P.I.T. (Safe Penile Intercourse Techniques) method is a pitch-perfect spoof of clinical sexual-health literature.
- Family coming-out narratives: The “unzip” to parents is framed with disastrous sincerity and a six-stage grief model that spirals into carnage (pork-loin assault, nudity on a dinner table).
It’s satire that understands its targets intimately—and then hits them with a rolling pin (literally, see “shaft rolling”).
Giftability
Perfect For
- White Elephant exchanges requiring escalating chaos
- Bachelor parties and late-night housewarming gifts
- Friends who prefer their humor both bawdy and strangely earnest
- Therapists, doctors, or sex-educators with robust gallows humor
- Fans of faux-official guides (Zombie Survival Guide, Gnome Attacks)
Probably Not For
- Anyone who takes self-help books literally
- Conservative workplaces with an HR department armed like a SWAT team
- Readers allergic to sexual satire or absurd bodily comedy
- People who dislike humor that hinges on repetition and commitment
This book excels when…
- Handed over solemnly, as though it contains a real diagnosis
- Left strategically on a coffee table to prompt horrified double-takes
- Used as a “party read-aloud,” where every paragraph tops the last
Physical & Visual Design
The design is a large-font, bold-title paperback that mimics serious pop-psychology guides. The iconic red-and-gold cover—with its tiny stick figure heroically dwarfed by typography—is a visual gag on its own.
Inside, the formatting enhances the parody:
- Clinical Q&A boxes
- Step-by-step procedures
- Inspirational epigraphs from Emily Dickinson to Thomas Jefferson (repurposed with glorious irrelevance)
- Diagrams of penis-related hazards and historical timelines
- Blank journal pages for “Daily Affirmations,” should one feel moved to reflect
It looks like something a hospital might hand you in a manila envelope.
Funniest / Most Memorable Moments
(No direct quoting; citing themes and moments only.)
- The OMG Diagnostic Questionnaire—a list of increasingly deranged “yes/no” questions culminating in feats of anatomical impossibility.
- Historical OMG Icons—Einstein’s theory of relativity reframed as a meditation on penis mass-energy equivalence. Franklin’s bifocals explained as a way to see both ends of himself.
- State Registration Laws—especially Vermont’s DMV photography requirement.
- The Coming-Out Chapter (“Unzipping”)—a tragicomic family meltdown featuring pork loins, nudity on a dinner table, and a father whispering “My son is dead…” while rocking in the dark.
- Care & Maintenance Warnings—including “cumcrete,” “leather loin,” “swamp crotch,” and the dreaded Tumbleweeds. The imagery alone is unforgettable.
- S.P.I.T. Technique Case Study—a four-hour sexual endurance disaster featuring excessive lube and an unexpected “tiny poop,” delivered with unholy seriousness.
This isn’t a book you read silently; it’s one you inflict joyfully on friends.
Overall Verdict
How to Live with a Huge Penis is a masterclass in one-joke longevity: a single comedic idea stretched, rolled, massaged, irrigated, and medically charted into something richer than it has any right to be. Its commitment to the faux-clinical bit is total; its satire of stigma, self-help, and cultural neuroses is surprisingly sharp; and its giftability is off the charts for anyone unafraid of monumental silliness.
For the right reader, it is a perfect storm of deadpan absurdity.
For the wrong reader, it is grounds for an immediate HR meeting.
You can find How to Live with a Huge Penis: Advice, Meditations, and Wisdom for Men Who Have Too Much at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Bookshop.org, Indigo (CA), Waterstones (UK), and other major retailers.