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I’m
a 25-year-old male. I’m a zoophile and always have been. I’m
a longtime reader (I’m sure you’re thrilled), so I know my
interests aren’t on your approved list of sexual activities.
Not trying to argue that point. However, it’s clear what turns
my head when I walk down the street and it’s never the person
holding the leash. I know from your column and many other
sources that once your brain is “wired” a certain way, “rewiring”
it is unlikely (snowball’s chance in hell), so this isn’t
going to go away. My question is what do I do?
Currently, I don’t date. I was married once, briefly, never
had sex, marriage quickly annulled. I currently have no sexual
attraction to any human, male or female, so I don’t feel the
need to date. Also, sharing this information with anyone I
attempted to date would probably end in horror, tears, and
my needing to move out of state. However, a lifetime without
a relationship (two-legged or four-legged) seems unappealing.
Here are the options I see:
1. Get a shrink (who I can talk to about this) and a girlfriend
or boyfriend (who I can’t talk to about it) and, in terms
of the sex, master giving head since my dick won’t want to
join the party.
2. Buy a house with a big yard and. . .well, you know.
I don’t care if you print this. I’d just like another opinion.
I mean, honestly, who else would answer this anonymously,
for free, and I actually have some faith in his judgment?
—Really
Unsure For Future
In
short. . .my advic. . .which is really going to annoy Mike
“Man and Animal” Huckabee. . .is . . . u . . .to buy that
big house, RUFF, one with a nice, big yard. . .and do what
you gotta do. Inside, please, shades drawn.
Bestiality is wrong, wrong, wrong, because an animal cannot
give its consent. But . . .uh . . .anyone who’s ever actually
owned a boy dog knows that most would be only too delighted
to. . .um. . .well, you know.
I’m assuming that you want to be fucked by dogs, of course,
as that’s almost always the case with dudes into dogs. Man-on-dog
is a whole lot wronger than dog-on-man, if I may use a certain
former senator’s formulation, most importantly for reasons
of safety for the animal, so I don’t smile on man-on-dog.
(Actually, I don’t smile on the dog-on-man, either—it’s more
like “grimace, cover eyes, look away,” but, hey, that’s the
reaction I have to cunnilingus.) Take a torn-up girl dog to
the vet, RUFF, and you’re going to wind up talking with the
police and having to cross a PETA picket line to get back
into your house—and it’ll serve you right.
For the record, I’m con bestiality (and very much pro cunnilingus).
I think fucking dogs is wrong, wrong, wrong. But I had pork
and beef and chicken at dinner last night—all 100 percent
factory-farmed meat, derived from animals that were cruelly
tortured every second of their brief and miserable existence—and
my particular strain of Tourette’s syndrome commands me to
say this: If I were an animal, I’d much rather be screwed
than stewed. We murder animals for their flesh, skins, fur,
and just for the fuck of it. Those of us that eat meat; wear
fur; run around in leather pants, jackets, shoes, restraints,
etc.; and kill animals for sport don’t have much moral authority
when it comes time to lecture those of you who wanna smooch
the pooch.
Finally, RUFF, build a nice, tall fence around that yard,
okay? And seeing a shrink probably won’t make you wanna screw
humans but, hey, it couldn’t hurt.
You helped take out Rick Santorum by naming a sex-related
term after him and now the time has come for you to do the
same for GOP hopeful Mike Huckabee. He has compared homosexuality
to bestiality in an interview, just like Santorum, and more
than once. Huckabee most recently came out against changing
“the definition of marriage so that it can mean two men, two
women, a man and three women, a man and a child, a man and
animal.”
So what do you think, Dan? Isn’t it time for a contest to
name a sex act The Huckabee?
—Dave
In Olympia
Every
time someone says something idiotic in public—myself included—I
get letters from readers angrily demanding that Ann Coulter,
Stephen Harper, Dick Cheney, Antonin Scalia, myself, et al.,
get the “santorum treatment” (which sounds almost as disgusting
as the substance itself). Honestly, this is the first time
I can say that I’ve been tempted. But Huckabee remains a long
shot for the GOP nomination, DIO, so it’s entirely possible
that we’ll be rid of Huckabee in a few weeks’ time—hell, he
could be out of it before this column gets printed.
But just in case Huckabee is the nominee—hey, you can’t be
too careful—I’m going to invite my readers to send their suggested
definitions for The Huckabee to huckabee@savagelove.net.
On my 21st birthday, my mother got so shitty drunk that
she had to buy a pair of pants off a gas-station attendant
after she pissed her own. She dropped her giant bag of pot
in the limo. We put her to bed and she got up and tried to
screw my roommate. Then she fell out of the top bunk of his
bed and hurt herself so bad she grabbed her car keys and left.
She got a DWI on the way to the hospital where they found
out she broke her rib. What does all of this do to my psyche?
—Please
Answer Me
Nothing
good, PAM. But I can’t imagine that your mother’s behavior
on your 21st birthday did more damage to your psyche than
your mother seeing her behavior recounted in a nationally
syndicated sex-advice column is going to do to hers. So you’re
your mother’s daughter after all, PAM.
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Loads of gay men read your column. This makes you a
good person to spread the word about the crazy “flesh-eating”
MRSA strain that is running rampant in communities of gay
men in Boston and San Francisco. According to the studies
reported in The New York Times, gay men in SF are 13 times
more likely to have this nasty staph bacteria than the rest
of the population in the area. Infection results in gross
and horrible problems like abscesses and ulcers (usually on
the buttocks and genitalia). The bacteria is resistant to
not only first-line antibiotics but also two of the three
other medications recommended by the CDC. Maybe you could
help inform people and keep them from getting infected with
ass-and-genital-flesh-eating bacteria?
—Keep
It Clean
Not
all gay men listen to me—things wouldn’t look so grim for
us on the STI front if more did—but for what it’s worth:
Gay men can easily protect themselves from this new strain
of MRSA. According to docs, it’s as simple as scrubbing with
soap and water after skin-to-skin contact. Gay men should
also reduce the number of our sex partners. Here’s some good
advice we got at the beginning of the AIDS epidemic: “Have
more sex with fewer people.” That was an effective health
strategy back in the day—guys who took it to heart tended
to live—and it would be nice to see today’s gay men adopt/readopt
the more-sex/fewer-people strategy before the infectious shit
hits the epidemiological fan. Again.
Download
a new Savage Love podcast every Tuesday at www.thestranger.com/savage.
mail@savagelove.net
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