This Penis May Cause Anxiety, Dry Mouth, and Loss of Faith in Men

Dick pics should come with the same warnings as cigarette packets. Grey, grim, and banned in public spaces.

If I had a pound for every unsolicited dick pic I’ve received, I’d have enough to buy a pack of cigarettes, a pregnancy test, and a new nervous system. You know what dicks and cigarettes have in common? Nobody asked to inhale them, they both arrive when you’re already stressed, and they should come with warning labels that include the phrase “May cause long-term psychological damage.”

If the UK can legally put pictures of black lungs and decaying teeth on the side of a Marlboro Gold box, I’d like to suggest we apply the same strategy to unsolicited penises. Just slap a photo of a sobbing woman from Essex holding her phone and whispering “Why me?” on the bottom right of the screen.

Let’s make it law. If you want to send a penis, you must include a government-sanctioned warning. “This organ may cause distress, nausea, loss of appetite, or existential dread.” Optional add-on: a QR code to live footage of the sender explaining his actions to his nan. Honestly, I’ve seen tamer content in Casualty.

The most violent thing about dick pics isn’t the penis itself. It’s the timing. No woman has ever said, “I’m really enjoying my morning oat flat white — do you know what would enhance this moment? A poorly lit, slightly tilted photo of Gary’s lukewarm genitalia in front of a PS5 controller.”

Now imagine this but instead of black lungs it’s Barry’s PS5-lit penis. But on the wanting it now says: May contain flash glare, emotional damage, and a sock that’s seen things.

According to a 2020 YouGov poll, 41% of British women aged 18–34 have received unsolicited nudes, with most recipients never asking, hinting, or expressing the faintest glimmer of interest. This isn’t foreplay, it’s evidence. And I don't mean that metaphorically. I mean, women have had to show judges literal screenshots of Barry from Tinder squatting in bad lighting, fully convinced his dick is the key to unlocking romance. And the only thing more terrifying than the photo itself is how utterly convinced he is that you’d want it. It’s not attraction. It’s entitlement with a data plan.

And God, the presentation. Always framed like a hostage situation. The camera angle is haunted. The lighting is post-apocalyptic. There's always a sock in the background that looks like it's been crying for help. I once got a photo where the flash reflected off a bottle of Lynx Java, and it was the brightest part of the image. I’m sorry, but if you’re going to sexually harass me, at least compose the shot like you’ve seen a human woman before. You want me to gasp? Try setting it against a dramatic coastal background. Give it a theme. I want National Trust, but with foreskin.

At this point, receiving a dick pic should legally entitle you to financial compensation, a counselling voucher, and a 10% discount at M&S. It’s only fair. Women deserve hazard pay for surviving WhatsApp. I want NHS-backed dick recovery groups. I want BBC News to cover it like it’s a national emergency. I want Ofcom to release statements. I want Matt Hancock to accidentally leak a penis and be forced to issue a full televised apology with graphics. And until that happens, I propose we start rating them publicly — like TripAdvisor, but for trauma. One star. “Came out of nowhere. Confused me, frightened me, then made me question the entire male species. Would not recommend.”

Unsolicited dick pics are not compliments. They’re not sexy. They’re not empowering. They are the cyber-equivalent of a stranger flashing you in a Lidl car park while you’re holding your meal deal and wondering how your life came to this. So yes, give them warnings. Stick them in plain packaging. Let every woman know exactly what she’s about to see before she opens her phone and witnesses the nation’s least promising export.