How my beautiful pennis project started
So last weekend I decided to finally organize my damn garage. That place was a war zone – tools scattered everywhere, boxes piled to the ceiling, and dust bunnies big enough to qualify as pets. Grabbed three big trash bags and just started chucking stuff. Underneath a moldy surfboard from 2008, there it was: grandpa’s old wooden workbench covered in cobwebs.
I dragged that sucker into the driveway and hosed it down. The wood looked like crap – all dried out and splintery. Went to the shed and dug out:
- A half-empty can of teak oil
- Sandpaper in three different grits
- Grandpa’s rusted but trusty carving knives
Started sanding like crazy. That fine wood dust got everywhere – up my nose, in my ears, even stuck to my sweaty forehead. Took four freaking hours to get that bench smooth. Rubbed in the oil with an old t-shirt, watching the grain pop like magic.
Then came the fun part. Remembered that weird wooden penis sculpture grandma hated that grandpa brought back from Hawaii. Decided to carve my own version right onto the bench corner. Made the tip real pointy and the shaft all ribbed – thought it’d be hilarious.
Honestly? Messed up twice. First attempt looked like a sad cucumber. Second one cracked when I dug too deep. Third time nailed it though. Used the finest sandpaper to polish that bad boy til it shone. Finished with three coats of oil while the neighbor kids stared over the fence.
Now it’s my favorite gardening prep station. Smells like lemon oil and rebellion every morning. Best part? My wife refuses to touch it, so it’s officially my bench. Sometimes the simplest crap makes you happiest.
