Ben’s 10 Volume LXVIII: Musicians and Their Meat Sticks

I know our readership spends a great deal of time thinking, “I am sure curious about Rick Allen’s penis.” What follows is some fascinating insight into the very “private parts” of rock and roll royalty.

Ted Nugent

“The Nuge” is a mentally challenged, buck-toothed hillbilly and fittingly his ding-dong is half an inch long, but four inches wide, resembling a can of chewing tobacco.

Kenny G

The king of adult contemporary crap has recently put down his silly saxophone, preferring to fellate himself as he has a sixteen inch long meat-whistle.

Eric Martin

The lead vocalist of Mr. Big could not think of a more appropriate name for his band as his anaconda is so large it makes John Holmes’ member look like the genitals of a field mouse.

Gene Simmons

The lead asshole of KISS is lucky he has that huge tongue to satisfy his many groupies. He’s overcompensated his whole life for his teeny flesh rocket by making ludicrous amount of money, fronting a mediocre band and generally being a douche bag.

Lady Gaga

Gaga is a multi-talented artist who has sold millions of records, inspired fans worldwide and (mostly) kept her meat stick hidden from public exposure.

Rick Allen

The famous one-armed drummer of Def Leppard has recently “beefed” up his sound by smacking his snare drum with his trouser chorizo.

Lil’ Wayne

Wayne’s nickname originates not from his small stature (he’s 5’5”), but from his microscopic mouse pee pee that resembles a straightened paper clip.

George Michael

While he used to solicit police officers to slob his knob in public restrooms, Michael’s career has fallen limp, much like his shriveled up weenie.

Lemmy Kilmister

The Motorhead front man has claimed to have slept with over 1200 women in his lifetime. It’s an incredible accomplishment from a butt-ugly, drug-addled zombie with a dick that closely resembles his famous mole.

Richard Hell

Widely considered the original punk rocker, Richard (or Dick as his friends call him) has a yogurt slinger that burns like the depths of Hell. Or maybe it’s just the gonorrhea.

About Ben Allen

Our music editor Ben Allen was born one stormy evening in a quaint Northern California coastal village. Upon birth he was immediately exposed to the soothing analog sounds of artists such as Fleetwood Mac, The Beatles, Paul Simon, Captain Beefheart and Santana. As the lad grew, so did his appreciation for an assortment of abrasive hard rock. A pubescent flirtation with butt metal was shattered in the early 1990’s by exposure to Nirvana and other so-called “Alternative” bands. While in college, our protagonist became a DJ on a local station, and began work as a freelance music journalist. During this period he became entranced with artists such as Tortoise, Slint, Modest Mouse, Guided By Voices and Pavement. Currently Allen resides in Arcata, CA where he continues to obsess and salivate over new recordings by his favorite artists. He works with music industry people to ensure that Savage Henry’s contributors receive music and other promotional materials. He also writes a silly monthly list titled “Ben’s 10.”

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