These are some males that I know. I know they are males, or at least I am pretty sure they are males, because I have been privy to enough information about them that I am fairly certain they each have a penis, but I guess you can never be too sure.
For the sake of simplicity, let's assume that all three of the following male-type dudes have penises. Now I can state, with relative safety, that these are some males I know.*
Follow that asterisk. I think my brain broke.
The following PERSON is Mr. Head. That divot on its nose is just for show.
The following PERSON is pretending that it is a 1940s expat in Panama. It still says How about you and I put on our striders and kicks and cast an eyeball on some hep kittens at the frolic pad. No, it doesn't.
Below is Warhol. It's drunk and making an angry face. We think it's cute.
* Am I the only who's uncomfortable with the fact that penises/vaginas have to be so goddamned important just to establish who you are talking about? I mean, I suppose that I didn't have to prove their maleness to anyone, but as soon as I wrote "these are some men/guys/dudes/males I know", I got all squirmy, because, hey, who cares? And then my assumptions about their maleness and identity therein really started to bug me, so I reduced maleness to being be-penised, and then I felt like I'd walked my brain into one of those chinese finger traps. I had gone too far, but would that delete key really take care of my heteronormative presuppositions? I think not.