Yes, I’ve been sick, but just like Magic Johnson I’m not going to let a run-down immune system prevent me from living a normal life. And my normal life involves Q&A Friday. Although it should be noted that I took so much medication before going to bed with Brooke and her shitzu last night that that at one point I woke up caressing Puppy’s boob. And Puppy is a boy.
On to the questions.
There has been some debate over how much a man should shave his crotch. As a man of fashion, and being knowledgeable in what women want, do you think the twig and berries should remain hidden in the bushes, trimmed to a well kept lawn, or completely shaved for the 'last chicken in the shop' look?
Anonymous English Guy
Some debate? This in fact may be the most debated topic of all time. Indeed, at the heart of the Great Lincoln-Douglas debates was this very question (with Lincoln wanting his slaves trimmed, Douglas preferring them bushy and natural).
The times have certainly changed since then. The Confederacy has been absorbed, slavery has been abolished and, most importantly, the straight-edged razor is no longer one’s only option for a good shave. Because wow, one wrong pass with that and you could do some real damage. And let’s face it, if you are shaving your balls you are probably drunk, which isn’t going to help matters. Although the few times I have gone to my barber for a shave, as he leans over my face I always smell whiskey on his breath. And he does an excellent job, so you never know.
Anyway, there are a few positives and negatives for all the options. Having things hidden by the bushes makes a girl work for it. You’ll know she loves you if she digs through the rough to find the real you. Plus you can sneak attack her, not unlike being surprised by a snake while weeding a garden. The downside, of course, is that traditionally speaking “sneak attacks” in the bedroom carry the negative connotation of “date rape.” Don’t hate me, I’m just the messenger.
On the other hand, having everything completely shaven means you can’t get crabs. And, yes, everything will look bigger. But keep in mind that looking bigger comes at the price of being completely visible. If you haven’t been reading the news lately, let me fill you in on a late-breaking story. Cock and nuts are ugly. Real ugly. Think of your package like a homeless man. Now, would you rather see this homeless man fully clothed, or with shaved balls? Exactly.
For my money, nothing says “Touch me here” like a well styled coif. That’s why I get my hair cut at a fancy salon. It tells people that you care about how you look, and trimmed pubic hair will convey that same message while at the same time holding back that little bit of mystery. It’s just the right amount of perspective to keep her eye on your tree through the forest.
Last week I went on a date with a man who calls himself a "Progressive Christian." I'm thinking this is slang for "I like to have premarital sex."
Awaiting your confirmation,
Post Modern Mary
I’m not one to knock silly religions, but being raised and educated as a Catholic I believe gives me the right to speak to this topic.
When God gave Noah the 10 Commandments, he didn’t say, “Hey, here are some rules. A few of them are a little tricky. Just do your best. This is God, signing off.” No, he said, “You shall follow these laws or you shall perish from this mortal world!” [paraphrased]. You see, religion isn’t like softball. It’s not like if you’re feeling under the weather you can skip a game. Or if you have a really bad hangover you can play left field and vomit over the fence when no one is looking. With religion, you’ve got to bring it, every game! You don’t break the rules, you don’t dog it, you give 110% every day! Like a great t-shirt once said: “PRAY HARD.”
So what do I think about people who call themselves “Progressive Christians”? I think they don’t love God. And I think that God doesn’t love them. And I think no one likes their music. And if you think back to the last person who tried to pull this “progressive” crap with God, you will remember what happened. God told Abraham to kill his son, and Abraham, trying to be all progressive, was like, “Really? Are you sure? He’s a pretty good little kid, doesn’t cry much. Can’t I just lead some people out of Egypt or something?” and God was clear that he had to kill his son. So Abraham did. He killed him. And then Abraham became the father of the 12 tribes of Israel.
Anyway, you can see where I’m going with this. Tell your progressive friend that sure, you’ll be his little premarital slut. But he’d better plan on taking Jesus off his MySpace list. And he’d better not want to pray after it’s over, because no one will be listening. He’ll be all alone in the world, just him and your vagina. Ask him: Was it worth it?
I have trouble finding porn on the Internet. Can you help?
I did some looking into this and it turns out there is a whole group of people who suffer from the same problem as you. They’re called “blind.” I contacted the head of their organization, the American Association for the Blind, and they told me, “Blind people face a number of challenges in everyday life that sighted people take for granted.”
Do they ever! I mean, I can’t shop for produce online without coming across some porn. There are quadriplegics who surf the web by blowing into a tube and they can find porn. Porn has become so common on the internet that when I have children I won’t even try to shield them from it. I’ll just say, “Son, this is porn.” And I’ll show him this website. And I’ll tell him that while what they are doing is perfectly natural, this is not the way God intended it. And then when he looks up at me and asks me who God is, I’ll stammer a little and then show him this website. And when he looks up at me so confused he’s ready to cry, I’ll pat his head and say, “The world is a great enigma, son.” Yes, I’ll be a terrific dad. Right up until I get a call from his high school teacher telling me that my son will be suspended after he was caught in the boy’s room masturbating to a picture of God, who is really a bunny wearing cute little tiger ears.
(Think you’ve got what it takes to have a question? Email me at email@example.com)