rainfletcher: I just got off the airplane here at my home city, and had a fascinating experience some of you hung-brothers may relate to. My boarding pass in San Fran was stamped with a "SSSSS", which meant I'd been randomly selected for 'additional screening'. This means that they're going to go through my luggage and wave that wand all over me. The guy finds my nipple rings (which don't really go with my 'attire') and almost doesn't believe me. After a few minutes of arguing (I was NOT going to take my shirt off in the middle of SFO), he believes me. Then he waves the wand over my belt area, and the fly sets the damn thing off. She he makes me turn my waste band inside out (very tricky with my growing belly) to prove that's all there is. THen he uses the back of his palm to sort of 'pat' me down. He gets to the front of me, and sort of pats / rubs me down about 6 or 7 inches below my waste band. There, he finds my cock. As you LPSGers can imagine, he doesn't believe that's what it is. It's obviously hanging too low to be a dick, so he's now really pissed at me. He gets his 'supervisor' who comes over and asks me if I'm wearing underwear. Can you believe that question????? I say no I'm not, and he then whispers some things to the skeptical underling. In the end, he let me go without further inspection. I imagine there will be stories told around the ubiquitous water cooler, eh? On a side note - as a measure of how far I've come in all of this, I can tell this story with out too much embarassment or shame. Before the therapy that is LPSG, I would have withdrawn into a little shell for a few days trying to get over the shame that is my dick. Baby steps, eh?