Tag Archives: Good Shit

Advice

On gay bashing trolls.

I’m a fifteen year old guy, and I recently came out as bisexual at school. Everyone I’ve actually told personally (mostly my friends who are girls, and one or two guys who I thought would be OK with it) have been really supportive. However, as is always the way, it didn’t take long for the homophobes to start flocking in.

They ask me questions on Formspring, and then take great (cowardly) care to remain anonymous – and before you ask, I’ve now stopped them being able to do that. Some of the questions included, – in incorrect grammatical form, of course –
“ahahaaaaa faggot bastard with no friends :’)”,
“you like the image of cock in your arse… all gays should be burnt.”,
and finally (my personal favourite),
“do you know what a sport is? s p o r t…. things you do outside, instead of staying inside doing nerdy gay drama with your bent friends or staying at home wanking to gay porn. you make me sick!”.

(Do you think they’re happy being stereotypes?)

Can you please give me some advice on how to answer this unimaginative homophobia with wit and flair, and to show that I’m not afraid of them? Or should I just ignore it? I need some serious help.

You got gay bashed with an emoticon? That’s priceless.

Listen, I understand the urge to respond to this kind of confused ignorance, but you really should ignore it. Wit and flair is wasted on people like that, and if you’re genuinely not afraid of them, then there’s no need to bother showing it.

Also, for the record, that is the most unintentionally hilarious definition of sport that I’ve ever seen. Apparently, going out and playing with balls is the only thing keeping guys from staying home and playing with balls. It’s accidental genius.

Anyways, you don’t need any help. You’re fine. Just be safe, learn to enjoy your haters, and have fun being a bisexual teenager.

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Advice

On a boring marriage.

You’ve probably already had this one (a million times) but I’m annoying and lazy so I’ll ask it anyways. What should I do if I’m bored in my marriage and have two small kids. Wait it out because we’re *both* boring and fat now? or let him know and deal with the consequences?

Wait it out? You’re in a marriage, not a line at the grocery store.

Get your shit together, woman. Children are no excuse for being fat and boring. If your husband isn’t doing it for you, feel free to tell him, but don’t be surprised if you aren’t his idea of a hot time either.

Sure, you’ve got kids to raise. Those little buckets of obligation are your first priority, but after that, you should both feel free to chase whatever excitement you can handle.

Presumably, you and your husband have something in common other than your offspring. If so, go find some fun together. If not, go find some fun separately.

Either way, have a fucking honest conversation with each other about your emotional conditions. Get that shit out on the table.

Otherwise, all that boredom is gonna fester into resentment and anger as you lead a life of quiet desperation. You’ll end up damaging your kids with your loveless marriage, and they’ll move to Los Angeles to pursue dreams of acting.

Trust me, you don’t want that to happen.

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Advice

On opening it up.

My boyfriend and I have been together for almost a year now, and I feel more for him than I have ever with anyone in a past relationship. I am bisexual, and he knows that and accepts it and even finds it sexy, so that’s all good, but a lot of the time I find myself missing tits and vaginas to a point where I even consider breaking it off with him. Five weeks ago, my friend who is also bisexual and (in my eyes) a complete babe, stayed the night at mine and we ended up in our panties making out on my bed. I didn’t go any further than that, because I felt awful, but I really wanted to.

My question is, should I tell my boyfriend about my cheating and risk our relationship, or just count what happened as a mistake and keep it to myself?

I don’t want to hurt him, and I feel like I was only satisfying a craving, which is a really bad way to look at it, but that’s what has kept me from telling him so far.

Thanks for your honesty!

Why do you insist on repressing your bisexuality in the first place? Remember, monogamy and fidelity are not the same thing, and merely acknowledging your bisexuality isn’t the same thing as celebrating it. If you have cravings that need to be satisfied, consider opening up your relationship.

Communicate with your boyfriend. When you find yourself missing tits and vagina, tell him. Let him be a part of your whole sexuality, and give him a chance to say yes to your needs. It’s your relationship, and the two of you can set your own terms.

You’d be surprised how many guys are perfectly cool with their bi girlfriends getting a little pussy every once in a while, especially if there’s a chance they might be invited to join in the fun. It’s a classic double standard that may work in your favor here.

In the end, this isn’t about whether you confess to making out with some girl (although you probably should, and I imagine you eventually will.) Instead, this is about whether you change the fundamental nature of your relationship so that you can remain faithful to your boyfriend while still fulfilling your needs.

There’s nothing wrong with having it both ways. Whoever first said “you can’t have your cake and eat it too” was a total fucking asshole, because you can, especially when the cake we’re talking about is pussy.

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Advice

On better schools.

My wife wants to help my step son into getting into a school thats not in our jurisdiction. shes willing to falsify paper work and say we are no longer together and that she lives in an address with her son that does qualify him to go to that school what should i tell her.

Don’t tell her anything. In fact, shut the fuck up and help her. She’s a mother willing to do whatever it takes for her child to get access to a better education. Good for her. I can’t think of a more noble reason to bend the rules.

Oh, and by the way, a jurisdiction is a sphere of authority held by a legal body such as a court or law enforcement agency. Schools have zones and districts, not jurisdictions.

Also, sentences begin with capital letters and end with punctuation.

Perhaps your wife should get you enrolled while she’s at it.

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Best-Of Advice

On penis size

From the very beginning you’ve made yourself out to be a straight-shooter with an awesome sense of humor. So, I pose this question: How MUCH does size matter?

Ever met a donkey-cock that flopped in the sack? A tiny guy with the hands (or tongue) of a god? While a guy’s size certainly helps, would you be willing to make an exception if he had other merits?

Gentlemen, please stop assuming that the dimensions of your genitalia are in any way a direct measure of your sexual prowess. Of course size matters, but not nearly as much as porn and late night infomercials would have you believe.

This is a bell curve situation. There is an 80/20 rule at play here, with ten percent at either end representing the really big and the really small.

If you’re wondering whether you fall into either extreme, you don’t. Trust me, fellas. You would already know. Your cock is not the biggest. Your cock is not the smallest. Give or take an inch or two in width and girth, most of you are essentially sporting the same equipment.

Do you get what that means?

Let me spell it out for you: if your cock is neither freakishly big nor freakishly little, by the time we’re in a position to size you up, the proportions of your penis are quite low on the list of things upon which we judge you.

Now, if you happen to fall into the ten percent on either end of the spectrum, the same rules still apply. The bitter insecurity of a little dicked guy is far more likely to ruin the mood than the actual size of his penis, just as the supreme confidence of a big dicked guy is far more likely to impress than the extra meat he’s packing in his shorts.

And yes, we know how easy it is to manipulate you with this shit. You could be swinging eight thick inches of pipe, and we could still crush your ego with three little words, “I’ve had bigger.” Why? Because you know there are a few guys out there with nine inches. It’s fucking ridiculous.

This shit drives me crazy. Really. I can’t wait for the human condition to reach a new stage of evolution where penis size is no longer a dominant cultural motif. Ugh. It’s right up there with world peace and no religion.

You may say that I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one.

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Best-Of Advice

On what comes next

After a lifetime of feeling bummed out, I recently started taking antidepressants for some real-er reasons than that. A side effect of the medication is I never want to do coke anymore. I read about it before starting the meds and didn’t believe it was going to be true. Now I never want it and when I’m around it, the thought of doing it bores me. So, I don’t. Also, because I’m not supposed to be drinking alcohol at all, but do anyway I get drunker faster which translates to sicker quicker. Smoking pot seems to work out just fine, but then I also want to go to sleep. So, here I am, faced with the startling reality of interacting with my world with the most sober mind I’ve had in maybe 2 years or more.

I’ve been traveling this velocity for so long, moving with a familiar momentum. It’s always been weekend to weekend, party and bullshit (x9). Ebb and flow. So now I feel like WHO THE FUCK AM I NOW!??!! I almost always learned new things during hightimes that I could bring into the rest of my life and that always felt really good. I think about the life I lived between the lines and key bumps, between the joints and gin and I’m unsure which bits to retain in my sober-er life. Maybe my personality dripped out with the bloody noses or whatever. I just can’t pull my brain together about my new, 80% less hedonistic social life. Like, am I supposed to find a boyfriend or something? Put money in a savings account? Wear underwear everyday? Get places on time? What do real people do? Do these questions make me sound like research for a serial killer or what?

So, you might be thinking “Why the hell is this girl asking me about being sober?” Well, first, most people would use their judginess to congratulate me on not doing cocaine and pat themselves on the back cause their horse is so friggin high. That aint you. Also, I don’t know every thing about you or anyone else and maybe you’ve had a sober stretch and can share something insightful. In any case, my crazy brain says you’re the one to ask. I’m not asking you to tell me who I am. I’m just interested in your thoughts on this matter.

I’m freaked out by possible impending stability! What if I turn into whatever the opposite of a degenerate is?

I hate to break it to you, but you are real people. Also, don’t get ahead of yourself, stability is not impending just yet. Life has a way of making sure you earn something like that. Besides, you’re not freaked out by the impending stability. You’re freaked out by the impending boredom.

Boredom has been your deepest fear this whole goddamn time, and now that you’re checking your mirrors on all the crazy trails you blazed, you’ve come to the terrifying realization that you’re too smart to bottom out like they do on TV. Sure, you’ve got a few respectable scars, but you’ve still got all your fingers and toes. Worse than that, you’ve got your fucking brain, all of it, and that motherfucker is sharp when it pulls focus.

I know. It’s an uncomfortable sensation when you realize that your neurochemistry is finally done letting you try to annihilate it. You feed it the same old shit, and all it gives you back is static and sand.

So now what? Well, you’ll be happy to know this raw nerve phase passes into a mellow acceptance of your own imminent survival. The world becomes a place where neither underwear nor savings accounts seem ridiculous. Don’t worry, you’ll still show up late for shit, because that’s just naturally the kind of asshole you are.

Eventually, you’ll learn to do what the rest of us do to keep from pulling a front page nutty. You’ll partake in an exercise of duality. You’ll make stability your bitch. You’ll build a white picket fence around a house with whatever freaky shit you like to keep locked up in the basement. You’ll figure a way to pay the rent and keep your teeth sharp. Oh, and yes, you’ll realize that the freaky shit is a lot more fun with a partner in crime.

Again, don’t worry. Have no fear. The ebb and flow of party and bullshit doesn’t automatically get traded in for anniversaries and mortgage payments. You get to pick your own standard units of measure. That’s what you’ve earned for coming out the other side on your own terms. You can do whatever you want, because you know how to get away with it.

This whole time you thought you were broken, and it turns out you were unbreakable. You’re not a degenerate. You never were. You were just faking it, and now you don’t have any more excuses. Now go live a life less ordinary.

Oh, and if you need a kickstart, I suggest you try volunteering a couple days a week. Pick a local cause that produces tangible results and go sign up to do some good. Altruism is a squeegee for the soul, that and a little yoga, and I think you’ll have enough fresh perspective to start enjoying the possibility of whatever comes next.

Welcome to the first days of your adulthood.

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Advice

On ritual and tradition.

I made the jump from agnostic to atheist, which I knew was going to happen, I was just afraid. My friend, who remains quasi-religious claims that I’m hypocritical and irreverent because I still go to church (Catholic) with my grandma. Do I have to write “GOD FREE” across my forehead when I’m with a 75 year old woman who wants to spend time with me? Or is it okay to grin and kneel and stand and sit for an hour and a half on a hot Sunday? I haven’t set aflame so far.

Still can’t quite shake that catholic guilt, can you?

Listen, it’s perfectly okay to indulge your grandmother by joining her for whatever silly ritual she finds comforting in her old age. It’s sweet.

Oh, and tell your friend to shut the fuck up. Hypocrisy requires pretense and irreverence requires disrespect. You are guilty of neither.

As a non-believer, there’s nothing hypocritical or irreverent about attending church or celebrating religious holidays with your family.

Family traditions are an important part of the human condition, and we’re still of a generation where many family traditions are religious in nature. That’s fine. It’s the time spent with family that’s important, after all.

Personally, I can think of lots of better places to take Gram-Gram on a Sunday morning, but if church makes her happy, I’ve had plenty of practice getting down on my knees.

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Advice

On a comeback

I’m throwing a bikini wrestling jell-o pool party in my basement after a concert next weekend. Some bra-burning bitch just left the following comment on the wall of the facebook event page: “simone be beauvoir rolling in her grave.” Give me a comeback. I’m a girl, by the way.

Reply with this:

“Oh, please. Simone de Beauvoir practically invented bikini jello wrestling. She and Sartre used to argue constantly over whether orange jello or lemon jello best represented the existential feminist aesthetic. By the way, nobody’s impressed with your summer reading list, you pretentious cunt.”

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Advice

On go fuck yourself.

I have to say I thoroughly enjoy your blog and hold the same views on almost everything you post. But I completely disagree with your last post about all pro-lifers being religious. It was utter shit. People are pro-life for many other reasons that are fuck all to do with religion. I’m an athiest but I’m also pro-life. If you think I’ve misunderstood your last post, I haven’t, I just disagree with it. I thought that you didn’t put forward a very strong argument. Please can you leave the pro-life/pro-choice talk for a while and talk about something a lot more important like how many times does a girl need to have anal sex before she actually enjoys it? or some shit…

Okay, cheap seats, let me break it down for you.

Having an opinion on my argument isn’t making a counter-argument. Either bring some substance to the table, or shut the fuck up.

Also, I don’t give a flying fetus whether you’ve misunderstood my point or just plain disagree with me, you’re still just an asshole who wants to deny women the legal right to abortion.

Oh, and I’ll write about whatever I damn well please. If you couldn’t already tell, I’m in the mood to fight today, and I’m happy to strap one on and show you exactly what it takes to enjoy anal sex, punk ass bitch.

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