Mr Gill,

Can you settle an argument? My mate says that girls don't like to see a chap's todger through his strides. I, on the other hand, know that a bit of a man bulge is a come-on.

I mean, look at Becks in his kecks. That's got to be a pull, ain't it?

The only thing is how do you arrange the cushions? I mean, a lazy lob down the side of the Wranglers? Commando in the tracky bottoms? Or a neat, assertive bulge up front in the chinos?

Freddy, Carlisle

Ah, Freddy. Planning on staying a virgin for long, are we? The reason you are writing this letter and your mate isn't is because he's next door shagging your sister. Or is it your mum again? One of the great disconnects between the male and female of this species is in the perception of the aesthetic appeal of man-gristle. Men think their little willies are pretty handsome. And therefore women must, too.

They believe the thing is intrinsically beautiful. The clue that this might not be a shared opinion is the obvious truth that no woman in the history of sex has ever said, "Oh, my, what a heavenly scrotum." And girls rarely have tattoos of penises on their forearms. The whole codpiece/penis sheath/dancer's posing pouch thing is there to intimidate other men, not attract women.

The matador's bulge is for the benefit of the bull. I have yet to meet a woman who doesn't think that on their own, without context, penises are risibly absurd, puffed up with their own pathetic self-importance.
The true comedy of manhood is that your knob may well be the axle around which life revolves, but it is also ridiculously stupid.