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I
am a straight, monogamous man with normal sexual predilections.
I don’t need to find someone to pee on me, paddle my butt,
tell me about fucking other men, or anything else too weird.
So why am I writing to you? First, I wanted to thank you for
printing all the letters from the perverts. I feel lucky that
my sexuality is wired the way it is, and I’m thankful every
time I read your column and am reminded of the sexuality I
might have gotten.
Second, do you have any idea what kind of sexual propensities
Americans have, percentage wise? I’m especially interested
in knowing how many of us are muff divers. Being one myself,
I wonder what kind of company I’m in.
—Tom
In Denver
You’re in good company, TID. Like dogs, all men who muff dive
go to heaven. And while I could dig up a stat for you somewhere—hell,
you could dig up the stat yourself (have you heard of Google?)—what
difference does a stat make? Like the perverts who fill you
with that there-but-for-the-grace-of-God-go-I feeling, TID,
you like what you like. And that thing you like, Tom? Muff
diving was once considered the height of kink—and not all
that long ago, either. Hell, muff diving was illegal in a
few of these United States until the U.S. Supreme Court finally
struck down all sodomy laws in 2003.
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I laughed reading your column today, but it’s not always
so. Sometimes it is just plain disgusting. I always thought
of human sexuality as something deeply poetic and beautiful,
the greatest ecstasy that is afforded human beings this side
of the grave. But when reading your column one gets the feeling
that human sexuality can be downright disgusting—people who
like piss, sadomasochism, and orgies. Is there any way that
we can salvage the poetic beauty of human sexuality?
—Just
Curious
I
laughed reading your letter, JC, because only a person who
has never had sex, poetic or otherwise, could write something
so thoroughly idiotic. Anyone who has had sex knows that poetry,
beauty, and ecstasy are so subjective that there’s no point
in looking down your nose at people who find poetry, beauty,
and ecstasy in ways that you do not. One man’s piss-soaked
sadomasochistic orgy is another man’s poetic ecstasy.
Recently my boyfriend became a born-again Christian and
made a bunch of new friends who have influenced him in his
Godly path. He told me we could still be together but couldn’t
have sex. Needless to say, there’s no fucking way I’m going
to regress to a middle-school relationship as an adult, so
it’s over. The other night I had a dream that I saw him and
he was wearing high heels and makeup and he told me that he
really hadn’t found God but was actually gay. “This is who
I am now,” he said in my dream. Do you think my subconscious
mind is on to something?
—More
Angst Darling
First,
MAD, my condolences. It is always a tragedy when someone close
to us succumbs to fundamentalist Christianity. But there is
hope. There are many, many ex- fundamentalist Christians out
there, and they’re living proof that the fundamentalist Christian
lifestyle is something that a person can successfully leave
behind.
As for your dream, I suspect it’s a case of wishful thinking.
What woman wouldn’t prefer to think that her ex-boyfriend
dumped her for hot, sweaty cock and not for some fuckwitted
religion?
i been in relationshp 4 five years. off on. i gave him
a disease 3 tim es. should he stay am i crazy
—Messaging.Nextel.Com
It’s wonderful that modern technology allows my readers to
send me text messages via cell phone when they’re drunk and
alone in bars. However, drunken text questions are not generally
the questions that make it into the column. I’m only running
your text, MNC, so that I can point out the shortcomings of
this mode of communication. Setting aside the lack of punctuation
and capitalization, to say nothing of the seemingly arbitrary
use of numerals in place of words (why “4 five years” when
“for 5 years” would have saved you one additional character?),
the simple fact that the author of a text message cannot,
perforce, go into detail about his or her problem makes this
technology unsuitable for communicating with advice professionals
such as myself. For instance, MNC, what disease did you give
your boyfriend 3 tim es? Gonorrhea? Shingles? Lupus? Polio?
That’s the sort of detail I need to do my job.
We now resume your regularly scheduled advice column, already
in progress.
This is not a plea for advice, but an observation. Since
I don’t have a television, I took to the internets for a look
at Andy Samberg and Daniel V., the objects of your masturbatory
inclinations. I was shocked at how un-hot these two guys looked!
In a way, this exercise was helpful: You are turned on by
average, ordinary, and not-so-cute guys. Knowing you were
gay, I naturally assumed that they were supermodel-hot. Thanks
for the learning experience and for defying my assumptions
about the average gay male!
—Lola
It’s
a sad fact: Andy Samberg and Daniel V. do not photograph well.
That means you will have to catch Samberg on Saturday Night
Live and Daniel V. on Project Runway to fully appreciate their
all-around hotness. For instance, Daniel V.’s eyes? Dreamy.
His basket? Impressive. Andy Samberg’s hair? Shaggy. His mouth?
He could suck your dick sideways.
Spend the day at the house of a friend who has cable, Lola,
and you’ll see that I’m just as shallow as the average gay
male.
I read your advice to Hurt Heart, the woman in love with
the Russian drug addict, and I had to write.
HH: Bravo on your choice to see other men after being in a
relationship that dates back to high school. You outgrew it,
you recognized it, and you have taken the next step: getting
involved with a loser who has issues that you will never be
able to help him with. Lesson learned. Now go out and have
at least one one-night stand. Be safe, but do it. Fuck him
silly. Then date some assholes—a whole string of them. Fuck
just enough people so that your heart and your brain are not
so young that a man can “whip” you just by looking you in
the eye while he fucks you. Then find yourself a good fuck
buddy. Keep him for a year. Once your sexual needs are being
met on a regular basis, you will be better able to make judgments
about who is wrong or right for you. Then dump the fuck buddy—unless
your new guy is cool with that, and in that case: Great
job! Oh, and make sure that the fuck buddy is someone
really hot, but just wrong enough for you that you will not
fall in love no matter how hot the fucking gets.
Once you have done all of the above, HH, you just might be
in the right frame of mind to go out and find a fulfilling,
real, adult relationship. Good luck, sister!
—Been
There
Thanks for sharing, BT.
mail@savagelove.net
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