- Joined
- Jun 3, 2003
- Messages
- 4,176
Mike Salvini
Obsessive-compulsive disorder is a tricky beast. You do your best to keep it in check, but the demons keep right on coming, and sometimes alcohol and drugs are the only way to muzzle their insistent whisper. So Mike got high, and he finally stopped -- stopped counting, stopped washing, stopped spending hours in the bathroom. For the next 15 years, he bounced between rehab and relapses, empty bottles and car crashes, painkillers and heroin. He finally cleaned himself up, only to revisit the demons. Lying in bed at night, he'd think of the cable TV remote, 8 and three-quarters inches long. Wait ... no it's not. It might be 7. And though he had measured every item in the house, he'd go downstairs to find the remote and set himself at ease.
Medication (the prescribed kind) helped, but it also killed his hard-on. So Mike was intrigued when he found a Web site that offered to strengthen his erection -- intrigued enough to start jelqing, hundreds of times a day. "After about a month," he says, "I started noticing changes." One day at work he went to the bathroom; when he sat down on the toilet, his penis hit the porcelain of the bowl. He went home and got out the ruler -- he'd gained half an inch. And when he looked at the underside of his penis, he saw a stretch mark that was exactly a half-inch long. It's become his own version of a tree trunk's rings, a personal growth chart that keeps his faith.
Today Mike spends 18 hours a day spreading the gospel of P.E. "I'm submerged in penis," he says with a laugh. "It's my full-time job." He's filmed a DVD of his self-designed exercises -- "Matters of Size: The Ultimate Guide to Penis Enlargement" -- that will be distributed in a few weeks by Vivid Entertainment. His Web site Matters of Size has 40,000 registered users and offers paying members videos, diagrams and one-on-one tutelage over private message and e-mail -- along with softcore pinup shots of his girlfriend Jen, a teacher and former dancer he met in rehab four years ago. (Jen and Mike also stage neo-Vargas photo shoots in their living room. When I visited their home in Western Massachusetts last summer, it was just after noon on a Sunday; Jen was wearing Mary Janes, white knee-high fishnet stockings, a schoolgirl blouse and braided pigtails.)
Mike currently practices P.E. for six hours every day and he's on what he calls his Phase Five Routine, which boasts seven monstrous-sounding exercises like "Slow Squash Jelqs" and "Isolated Compression Squeezes." As big as he's gotten, he refuses to stand up with an erection. When I ask him why, he just laughs: "Oh, I'm quirky. You don't want to go into that part of my mind."
Despite his lack of formal education, a rogue intellect has driven Mike to undertake a number of informal studies on such P.E.-related subjects as penile misrepresentation in ����������� and body dysmorphic disorder, an anorexia-like condition that plagues a person with a skewed sense of his or her own appearance. Mike, not surprisingly, suffers from BDD. Occasionally he will reach for a ruler to measure his gains, and end up double- and triple-checking for an hour because he thinks he calibrated incorrectly. At one point, he was measuring himself so often that the chafing edge of the ruler severed his frenulum, the piece of skin that connects the head to the shaft.
Mike dubbed himself Double Long Daddy for a purely literal reason: His flaccid penis is twice what it used to be. After seeing a picture of it online, the ���� legend Ron Jeremy e-mailed him to see if he was interested in doing adult films. (He was not.) When I see Mike on his couch, legs crossed in such a confining way, I find it hard to believe he can sit down without causing himself immeasurable discomfort. He keeps his penis tucked between his legs and under a buttock. When he stands and bends to pick something up, I can glimpse it poking at the nylon of his shorts.
"Whenever we're out, women always stare at it," says Jen, with something approaching pride in her voice. Clearly, she is pleased with Mike's penis. She uses the word "cock" a lot. And "dick." And "veins." Mike uses those words, too, but he also rattles off clinical terms: suspensory ligament, frenulum, meatus. This is the lingua franca of the movement.
Continue to Page 5
Obsessive-compulsive disorder is a tricky beast. You do your best to keep it in check, but the demons keep right on coming, and sometimes alcohol and drugs are the only way to muzzle their insistent whisper. So Mike got high, and he finally stopped -- stopped counting, stopped washing, stopped spending hours in the bathroom. For the next 15 years, he bounced between rehab and relapses, empty bottles and car crashes, painkillers and heroin. He finally cleaned himself up, only to revisit the demons. Lying in bed at night, he'd think of the cable TV remote, 8 and three-quarters inches long. Wait ... no it's not. It might be 7. And though he had measured every item in the house, he'd go downstairs to find the remote and set himself at ease.
Medication (the prescribed kind) helped, but it also killed his hard-on. So Mike was intrigued when he found a Web site that offered to strengthen his erection -- intrigued enough to start jelqing, hundreds of times a day. "After about a month," he says, "I started noticing changes." One day at work he went to the bathroom; when he sat down on the toilet, his penis hit the porcelain of the bowl. He went home and got out the ruler -- he'd gained half an inch. And when he looked at the underside of his penis, he saw a stretch mark that was exactly a half-inch long. It's become his own version of a tree trunk's rings, a personal growth chart that keeps his faith.
Today Mike spends 18 hours a day spreading the gospel of P.E. "I'm submerged in penis," he says with a laugh. "It's my full-time job." He's filmed a DVD of his self-designed exercises -- "Matters of Size: The Ultimate Guide to Penis Enlargement" -- that will be distributed in a few weeks by Vivid Entertainment. His Web site Matters of Size has 40,000 registered users and offers paying members videos, diagrams and one-on-one tutelage over private message and e-mail -- along with softcore pinup shots of his girlfriend Jen, a teacher and former dancer he met in rehab four years ago. (Jen and Mike also stage neo-Vargas photo shoots in their living room. When I visited their home in Western Massachusetts last summer, it was just after noon on a Sunday; Jen was wearing Mary Janes, white knee-high fishnet stockings, a schoolgirl blouse and braided pigtails.)
Mike currently practices P.E. for six hours every day and he's on what he calls his Phase Five Routine, which boasts seven monstrous-sounding exercises like "Slow Squash Jelqs" and "Isolated Compression Squeezes." As big as he's gotten, he refuses to stand up with an erection. When I ask him why, he just laughs: "Oh, I'm quirky. You don't want to go into that part of my mind."
Despite his lack of formal education, a rogue intellect has driven Mike to undertake a number of informal studies on such P.E.-related subjects as penile misrepresentation in ����������� and body dysmorphic disorder, an anorexia-like condition that plagues a person with a skewed sense of his or her own appearance. Mike, not surprisingly, suffers from BDD. Occasionally he will reach for a ruler to measure his gains, and end up double- and triple-checking for an hour because he thinks he calibrated incorrectly. At one point, he was measuring himself so often that the chafing edge of the ruler severed his frenulum, the piece of skin that connects the head to the shaft.
Mike dubbed himself Double Long Daddy for a purely literal reason: His flaccid penis is twice what it used to be. After seeing a picture of it online, the ���� legend Ron Jeremy e-mailed him to see if he was interested in doing adult films. (He was not.) When I see Mike on his couch, legs crossed in such a confining way, I find it hard to believe he can sit down without causing himself immeasurable discomfort. He keeps his penis tucked between his legs and under a buttock. When he stands and bends to pick something up, I can glimpse it poking at the nylon of his shorts.
"Whenever we're out, women always stare at it," says Jen, with something approaching pride in her voice. Clearly, she is pleased with Mike's penis. She uses the word "cock" a lot. And "dick." And "veins." Mike uses those words, too, but he also rattles off clinical terms: suspensory ligament, frenulum, meatus. This is the lingua franca of the movement.
Continue to Page 5
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