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Andy in a box! Our columnist gives the gift of love - Brooklyn Paper

Andy in a box! Our columnist gives the gift of love

Boxed in: Legendary former Brooklyn Paper reporter Andy Campbell.
Community Newspaper Group / Gersh Kuntzman

I’ve cast myself in plenty of my own fantasies, but as of this week, I officially have a way to make those dreams a reality.

That’s right — in the name of news and the legends who wrote before me, I took on what is possibly the greatest feat of journalism since the publication of the Pentagon Papers: I have allowed a Williamsburg sex shop to cast an exact replica of my penis.

You might remember our coverage of Shag, the new swank sex toy shop on Roebling Street, and its special body casting and artwork. And when we wrote “body casting,” we really meant “penis casting.”

You might ask why anyone would want a perfect model of his manhood. For me, the yearning to have Shag make a dildo version of myself was strictly journalistic. Who better than this reporter, who puts himself out there every day, to inform the public about the process?

Shag owners Sam Bard and Ashley Montgomery-Pulido have other reasons for providing this vital service.

“If you have one made, you can say to someone, ‘Go f– yourself’ — but mean it in a good way,” Bard said.

The end product is no Steely Dan, but a malleable, silicone sex toy, replicating every intricacy of the male genitalia, stem to stern as it were.

Of course, I chose green.

My pride swelled even larger when I found that my penis was Shag’s first specimen — and I didn’t even have to buy anyone dinner.

I’ll digress by answering the most-obvious questions first: Yes, I had to shave. Yes, I had to be — and stay — erect during the molding process. Yes, the owners saw my penis (yes, they were impressed). Yes, the testicles are involved. And yes, I did have the option of turning the new toy into a vibrator (but you know me, I’m old-school).

That said, my hard times with Bard and Montgomery-Pulido were comfortable and professional (alas, a bit too professional); they’ve seen it all before.

“Sex is a part of almost everybody’s life, no matter who they are,” Montgomery-Pulido said as she began whipping up the goo into which I would soon insert my member. “Part of our mission is to break down the barriers between sex and art, and allow people to check their inhibitions at the door.”

After I spent a little time in a private room with a TV and some DVDs (you know, a few “Simpsons” re-runs to get in the mood), the cast was ready and I was called into the basement. A hand-held tube was filled with the gooey alginate (warm apple pie indeed!) and I made my entry. The owners were gracious enough to hold the cast up for me while I furiously tried to stop thinking about spring training and keep focusing on all the hands, bodies and activity around me. The process was finally over once the messy mixture hardened on their hands.

Montgomery-Pulido and Bard spent the next two weeks drying and filling a series of molds that will soon become a shining reminder of my huge feat. Of course, we all know that a silicone toy will pale in comparison to the real deal (in my humble opinion), but it’s nice to know that there’s now more of me to go around.

Tune in next week for the climax of this story.

Shag [108 Roebling St. at N. Sixth Street in Williamsburg, (347) 721-3302]. Normal casts are $375, and vibrators are $390. Next event: “Unravelled,” photographs by Jess Levy, opens on April 2 (free booze!), 6–9:30 pm. For info, visit www.weloveshag.com.

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