The MPAA gave Forgetting Sarah Marshall an "R" rating for sexual content, language, and some graphic nudity. It's nice that the MPAA is so thorough when it comes to smacking the labels on these video reels. Because if I'm sitting down to rate this movie, I don't have to watch more than, say, five minutes of the thing to realize ... okay, fully exposed penis, that's gonna be "R." I need no other reason. "This movie is rated R for it features a naked dude." And then it would be time for a well-earned hour-and-45-minute nap whilst the movie continues to roll, hopefully not lucidly dreaming about what I just witnessed.

But I'm not a movie rater. I'm just an average dude who sees about two movies a year. So this was probably the first time I actually saw one of those underpants critters on the big screen in my life. Compounding the awkwardness was the fact that I shared one armrest with a total stranger, and my other armrest with ... well, my date. The rest of my audience peers seemed quite taken aback as well. And this was a theater in freaking Ann Arbor. From the silence amid restrained gasps, you'd think Zingerman's went out of business or Bo Schembechler died.

The sight of that thing really set the tone for the rest of the movie. Every time I saw the male character thereafter, I just thought to myself, "There's the guy who just showed his dick to the world. What a daring performance." (Imagine if Paul Reubens just saved his desire to flash the public while on the silver screen, rather than facing it. He'd be a national hero.)

Of course, in the grand scheme it's no big deal. Admittedly, it's just a penis. I got one. Dudes, you all have one, too. Go on and look in your pants right now. See it? Are you offended? Are you aroused? If so, close the browser and pull up some of your "secret" multimedia, because you are in no position to finish this article, Mr. Antsypants.

Now, there might have been movies in the past with the ol' johnson in plain sight. In fact, I'm positive there have been. And wouldn't you believe it, there's absolutely no motivation on my end to research that particular statistic. But I'm sure my field experience will accumulate over time, once I increase my cinematic intake to three movies per year.

The occasional male genitalia will poke itself into my brain, until I get used to the idea — or when I find one that looks reasonably smaller than my own.