Comedy: Advice Column

Note: Originally written for a now-defunct feminist zine called Buttercup, where I was tasked with providing a male perspective under the title: The Scrote of Wisdom.

People always say that women confuse sex and love. In my experience, a woman thinks if a guy has sex with her, that he loves her, whereas a man thinks that if a woman loves him, she will have sex with him. Am I over thinking things?

If I have sex with a girl it doesn’t even mean I love having sex with her. Even if I keep coming back for more, it just means she keeps letting me have sex with her.

As for women having sex with men who pretend to love them, that’s a good trick. Thank you.

Could you please decode/declassify the language of nods amongst the male faction? Such as… how a nod that is an upward lift of the chin could mean either: an acknowledgement like “Oh, hello, friend, how are you?” or a menacing “Do you wanna take this outside, motherfucker?” I cannot recall a time when I’ve seen females use this type of communication.

For me, a nod as a greeting is a way of saying I don’t want to talk to that person. It’s the absolute minimum required effort to say hello, and doesn’t engage you in any way. I love that nod so much.

My only experience with the threatening variety of sharp nod has been on the receiving end, and I’ve found that it can be quickly dispelled by nodding back with a smile as if you thought it was a greeting. Continue to grin as you walk past and find a place to hide.

As an aside, I would like to thank you for entrusting me as your perspective from the absolute pinnacle of manliness. I thank all who read this page and this site, quietly, from my hiding spot.

What do you really think of girls who do it on a first date? Would you get involved long term with a girl who gave it up instantly?

First of all, I don’t think I’ve ever been with a girl who wouldn’t put out on the first date. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever really been on a “date”, I’ve just sort of scheduled sex with people.

More importantly, if I was to meet a girl who wouldn’t sleep with me I doubt I’d want to see her again.

I know how that sounds, but it’s not that I feel women only have one thing to offer. I just figure I can find a woman who offers all of your deeply fascinating character traits and *also* puts out, to replace you with.

So to answer your question: Yes! If I were to accidentally get involved with a woman seriously, she would have to be a huge slut.

How come guys aren’t very good at making their pee go only in the toilet?

It’s never an issue of aim, for me, but physics.

My penis is not quite long enough to dangle into the toilet bowl. What I am forced to do instead is fire a stream of urine through the air and into the water below. While my aim may be perfect, splashing can be a menace.

The only way I ever actually miss is in the middle of the night when I don’t feel like turning the light on. In such cases I just shoot it all over the house until I hear it hit water.

What is really so scary to men about having relationship talks?

Mostly the relationship part. Getting serious with a girl has its pros and cons.

Or, maybe just a singular “con”, which is that he won’t be able to sleep with his hot friend(s) anymore. Even if he doesn’t have any hot friends to sleep with, he probably likes the idea that he someday might. This can be a difficult concept to let go of.

However, there are only pros to stalling for as long as humanly possible. If he intends to eventually get serious with a girl he can convince himself that, while he remains free, his future-serious girlfriend is without a doubt devoted only to him. There is a common metaphor here about fucking a cow, I believe.

This is why most men will put off serious relationship discussions as much as possible. The ones who appear comfortable with commitment from the beginning have already resigned themselves to cheating.

Why are men so uncomfortable watching porn together?

What research do you have to suggest this? I’m guessing this is purely an assumption you’ve made. While I don’t have a ton of experience in the area, let’s just say that I’ve jerked off with a friend or two in my day.

And by that I mean really.

I used to rub one out to the Pink Ranger every day after school, when I was 11 or 12 years old. I don’t believe I thought she was particularly attractive, it’s just that my friend did and I thought I should too if I didn’t want to turn gay. So we would watch Power Rangers in my living room, jerking off together and trying not to be gay.

It occurs to me that you may have meant to ask why men are uncomfortable watching porn with their partners. I, Er…

Do men get down on themselves for their looks/bodies?

I’m sure the ugly ones do.

I just want to know what the fucking deal is with guys and all the damn sports.

Repressed homosexual feelings. I can’t be the only guy who jacks off to football, right? Those guys are buff.

You should come over some time and have a CJ with me. Or you can just watch, since I’m awesome. I shoot like seven feet. I hold the record among my friends, by a long shot.

Plus my dick is huge. Yeah, my dong and I have got some real potential. I think this is our year, bro. We’re going all the way. Into a vagina. Would’ve pulled it off last year if I didn’t get that groin injury. Man she kicked hard. I’m wearing a cup now. I’ve been training, working out and shit. Got a real chance this year, bro.

Nobody’s dick is as big or as hard as mine.

Anyway, I have no idea why dudes like sports.

What the hell is so interesting/fascinating about vehicles?

I have no idea why so many men spend so much time talking about their cars. They probably just don’t know what else to talk about. Men are philistines, all of them.

However, that wasn’t your question. In answer to your question, almost everything about vehicles is interesting.

Sure the combustion engine is old news, and its mechanics are remarkably simple, but it’s still kind of neat to think that we create power from the controlled chaos of teensy little explosions. Take a moment to appreciate that with me, if you will.

Of course, it goes beyond the basic mechanics. These days cars are often defined by the gadgetry embedded in them, and many major technological advancements owe a great deal to the motor veee-hicle. GPS alone is a mindblowing concept; the idea that we receive information from outer space to tell us where we are on the Earth is just awesome.

Even before these incredible marvels hit the showroom floor, amazing technology is used to piece them together in the most sophisticated dances of automated process known to mankind. Car manufacturing plants are at the cutting edge of robotics.

Actually, I’m starting to understand why men spend so much time talking about cars. It’s damn near half as interesting as building computers. Who knew?

What’s with the obsession with two girls getting it on?

Most, if not all men, watch porn. When they’re young it’s a curiosity, and they feel like they are getting away with something just by finding it. Boys can masturbate just fine without visual stimulation, but it doesn’t hurt at all and the fact that they’re not supposed to be looking at it adds an inch to their mischievous little erections.

As they get older they will inevitably find themselves looking for more interesting scenarios in porn. Lesbian porn is one of the first and most obvious alternatives. Homosexuality is still taboo, and two girls going at it is something most guys won’t get to see in person. This adds another inch. (fact: penises do not grow with the rest of the body, but as the host discovers new types of porn)

Eventually men adapt to a very wide range of hardcore pornographic genres from which they can draw freely depending on their mood. Hardcore porn is extremely dick-focused though, and lesbian porn remains a solid option when one is simply tired of seeing dicks everywhere.

Now, in the same way as they progress through porn, men progress through sex with actual women. One of the first brilliant ideas they will have after they lose their virginity is to convince their girlfriend to let some skanky bi chick join them. The men who believe this is a good idea are clearly retarded and don’t understand that you can’t actually fuck two vaginas simultaneously, and that while you’re busy with one girl the other is just going to sit there making you feel guilty about not paying enough attention to them. Not that I’m still bitter about the whole thing.

Can we just move on?

Do men really worry that penis size matters to women?/Does penis size truly matter to men?

Penis size matters a great deal to men, regardless of how much it matters to women. In fact, I would say that men are far more interested in what other men think of their tiny penises.

I don’t have a small penis (photo requests, ladies?), but I do want my penis to at least seventy inches longer. I’m well aware that my amazing firehose of a penis would be totally unusable by the women of this world, but I would have little need to affirm my incredible manhood if my dong was literally the biggest ever. I would hire somebody with my freak-porn money to stand down the hall and jack me off into the bathtub, and I would get by on that just fine.

I can’t speak for men with giant dicks, because there may indeed be a point at which you stop thinking an extra inch would be an improvement, but you don’t need to have a small, or even average sized penis, to want it to be longer.

This is more of an issue for boys than it is men. I remember when I was enjoying puberty, I would actually push extra hard (which is unhealthy, boys) when I knew people could hear me pee, so that it would sound like my urine was being vomited out from a gargantuan eurethra.

It’s less on the forefront of my mind as an adult, but suffice to say that when my girlfriend asks me to ease up because I’m bruising her cervix I am at my absolute pinnacle of happiness.

If I’m on my period, is the idea of sex gross? Would you rather wait until I stop bleeding or would you rather just have sex?

I’d rather have you blow me.

An ex of mine convinced me to go ahead and explore the decaying lifestuff of her crimson vaginal fen, and honestly I really didn’t notice a difference. That is, until I looked down at myself and saw the horrific aftermath all over my junk and legs and shit. She called this “earning your red wings,” and I tried to hump her face.

Those were good times. Eventually I took to hating her for no reason and sleeping with all of her friends.

Another girlfriend, after the decrepit fartmonster, denied me the same experience. I was pretty much ready to stick my dick in anything at the time, but she wasn’t comfortable with the idea — I figure it’s like when I have morning breath and refuse to kiss. I learned to use her discomfort with this situation to initiate sex so she would turn me down and give me a pity blowie.

I’m not actually answering your question. I realize that. I just don’t have a solid answer. I’m kind of put off by the idea, but if you put your tits on my head I will probably get over it. Just be aware that I’ll likely try to transfer it to your face afterward with my leaping pelvic thrusts.

Ideally though, I’d rather have you blow me.

What’s up with eating Chef Boy R D out of the can?

First of all, it’s Chef Boyardee. Show a little respect for the misspelled surname of chef Ettore Boiardi.

Second, we eat food out of cans because we just don’t give a fuck. If I’m hungry and I see a can of Chef Boyardee raviolli, my options are to pop the lid off and pour the food-like sludge into my stomach, or to make a bowl dirty and waste energy running the microwave needlessly. It really doesn’t make any difference, it’s the exact same crap at room temparature as it is heated up.

When you stop to think of it, you’re the one doing something strange here. Some food needs to be cooked, but Chef Boyardee comes pre-cooked and I feel pretty good about the chances that air and bacteria are getting into the can. Heating it up does nothing, you’ve just been programmed to think that heat is a meaningful part of a balanced diet.

I can understand, perhaps, if you find it lacking in class. But seriously, if you’re going to be pretentious about pasta from a can, you need to pick your fucking battles.

Balls? Should girls play with them?

Not mine. I’ll punch you in the head if you get too adventurous down there. I’m protective of my external organs and I don’t trust you or your kind.

It’s the same reflex for me as being tickled. I don’t like to be tickled, and I don’t like chicks sucking on my nuts. Guys who like to be tickled will probably like you grabbing all up on their balls, sticking a finger in their ass, and whatnot. Try to tickle a dude before you do anything too awesome.

On the other hand, if you want to play with my balls purely for your own entertainment, ask and I will gladly put on a show for you. Just because I’m protective of them doesn’t mean I’m not going to use toxic permanent markers to draw eyes and squeeze them so they look like a ChuChu.

Is there a reason guys half ass EVERYTHING?

See above, re: we just don’t give a fuck.

When it comes to housework for example, I honestly have no motivation of my own until the moment that I need to use something. I’m perfectly happy with a sink full of dishes, because if I need a bowl I’ll wash a bowl and have a bowl. This attitude is infuriating to all women, which is why I say that I have no motivation “of my own”; my girlfriend provides a great deal of second-hand motivation.

The problem is that, since I don’t actually care about what I’m doing, I’m only driven to do what I think is required to make my girlfriend happy. As I have no respect for her insane desire for there to be no pubes stuck to the back of the toilet, I just remove the pubes that are stuck to the front of the toilet. I see no reason that she should ever want to stroke the back of the toilet to check for pubic hair, but we’ve established that she and all other women are insane.

I do feel for you, I truly do. I have no concept of what it must be like to be bothered by so many trivial things. To lie awake at night grinding your teeth and wondering how many pubic hairs may be roaming freely in your home. I can’t relate at all, but I feel sorry for you and the burden you bear.

Not sorry enough to do more than placate you, though.

Irreversible Mistakes