Exclusive | This is huge news: Size matters, guys but not in the way you think

On the final night of a recent trip to New York, I was feeling a little, shall we say, randy.So I decided to reach out to a guy I had gone on one semi-successful date with to see if he fancied a Netflix-and-chill night. At 29, he was a tad too young to take seriously, but good lord, was the man attractive.This short king had a well-groomed beard and the most cheeky eyes you’ve ever seen.

Perfect for the occasion I was seeking. He responded at lightning speed (Why is it always the “You up?” texts that get the quickest response?) and was ringing my doorbell barely before I had showered and tidied the place up for a sexy visitor. Everything was going smoothly — until he unzipped his trousers, and I was suddenly face-to-face with a situation so extreme it could’ve been classified as a medical anomaly.It.

Was.Huge.After some deep breathing (and a THC drink for courage), we gave it a go.

But the poor man wasn’t just packing — he was a full-blown tripod.After a few failed attempts and the crushing realization that I wasn’t going to get any real enjoyment out of this experience, we called it quits.

Instead, we settled in for Uber Eats ramen, an episode of “The Traitors” and a cuddle.I know.

Wild.Fast-forward to a bachelorette party the following weekend, where the topic of “big ones” inevitably came up.I shared my encounter with “Tripod Man.” (Yes, men, we do occasionally discuss your, uh, attributes.

Oh, and if you’ve ever sent us a d–k pic, there’s a solid chance our friends have seen it.What can I say? We’re curious creatures.) To my surprise, every woman at the table agreed: bigger is not better.

In fact, the consensus was clear — a well-proportioned, circumcised member trumps an oversized one any day.“You know what’s worse than a massive one?” one of the girls piped up.“A massive one with zero clue what to do with it.” And honestly? She had a point.

It’s like a model who coasts on her looks instead of develop...