Archive - September 2005
For The Ladies
As you get older, and theoretically, more self-assured, things can get easier to admit. Things like masturbation (not me of course), or pushing Kelly Martin off the monkey bars in second grade (okay, that was me, but she had it coming). You want another one? Okay. Womenís magazines.
There I said it.
Thatís right. Iíve been known to read womenís magazines. Not all of them. Not all the way through. And not too many recently. Not since my wifeís subscriptions have switched from the likes of Glamour to the likes of Good Housekeeping (oh, the irony). Iím sorry, but cookie recipes are just not that intriguing.
The articles I always found most puzzling were those about men, and specifically, our nature as sexual beings. (Insert variation of ďHow To Please Your Man In BedĒ here.) And while I always thought of this as a bit like reading Popular Mechanics to get the scoop on next yearís hemlines, Iíd read them anyway. They always proclaimed some insider knowledge gleamed from the questionnaire they had sent out. So they suckered me in every time.
I found out a lot about men in those pages. For instance, did you know that we liked to be teased with the idea of some sexual favor that may come some point in the future? Or that over seventy-three percent of us have a preferred scent of candle for lovemaking? (Itís lavender.) How about the fact that the three places we most like to be kissed are, in various orders depending on publication, our necks, our ears, and our lips? And then thereís the tidbit that we think sex is better when you love the other person.
Wow. Men come off pretty good, donít we? Except for this one tiny little detail. None of that is true.
I mean, come on now. Teases? Thereís a reason men like microwaves and remote controls Ė we want it now. Candles? Please. Love? I got bad news for you ladies. Sex is sex. Any man that tells you different is lying (to get you into bed) or gay. Perhaps both, albeit confusedly. Love implies respect, and respect can make it difficult to get the ball gag in good and tight.
I can only assume one of the following things is true. One is that no questionnaire was ever sent out, or even created. (Possible, given the mediaís nonchalant attitude towards those pesky facts recently.) Or, and I think this is the more likely scenario Ė the questionnaires were sent home with employees who had their boyfriends fill them out (therefore knowing that she would read it). Or said questionnaires were given to men who were out shopping with their girlfriends at the time. Asking men these questions under these circumstances will get you the same amount of honesty as if Hulk Hogan asked you face-to-face if you thought wrestling was real. (Well, duh. Of course itís real.)
Their answers were, in other words, lies.
Do you really want to know what men want in bed? Are you sure? Are you really, really sure?
Fine then. Iíll tell you what men want. Why, Iíll even put them in order of importance.
1. Anal sex (yours, not his).
1. A threesome with your friend from college. (Not her, the other one. Yeah, thatís it.)
There you have it. It didnít take seventeen pages, and thereís not a pie chart in sight. Weíre really not that difficult to understand.
The problem, ladies, is that you already know this, you just donít want it to be true. Feel free to keep believing that the long, deep kiss you gave your man before he left for work will have him thinking about you all day long, waiting to hold you again. The reality is, he probably wasnít out of the driveway before his mind started to wander. A blowjob before he leaves for work, now that might get him all the way to the corner.
OMG grumpy you are SO HOT!
I want to kiss you and hug you and make violent love
to you!! I WANT TO MARRY YOU GRUMPY! Omg, like, please
put this up for everyone to see because I want the
world to know that I am madly in love with you. I
WANTA HAVE SEX WITH YOU GRUMPY LLAMA!!! oh.........
I love you
your lover in the futer
ps- the fact that you like pina colladas and getting
caught in the rain totally turns me on, I would do
anything to make you love me
Hell Yea!! Despite the overt and glaring psychotic tones evident in your letter, I'm flattered. Really. No woman has ever said anything like that to me. Not sober, anyway. In fact, the phrase "I WANTA HAVE SEX WITH YOU" has only been uttered to me two times in my lifetime. Of course, they could have been saying "I WANTA GO HOME." It's hard to tell when they're drunk AND sobbing.
I fear however, that the one little flaw in your plan may be the existence of Mrs. Grumpy. But, if she ever tries to make me get one of those "job" thingies, she's gone.
Hope that helps,
your lover in the futer
ps- I swear I have a hot bod
pps- please answer me grumpy, how can I make you want
to marry me?
Dear Back to the Futer,
Yep. Still crazy.
Hope that helps,
P.S. I'm still flattered.
I have a question...
Who/what are you? And why do random freaks go to a crazy llama for advice? Why do I go to a crazy llama!?
Who/what am I? Just someone trying to help. Is that so wrong?
Why do random freaks go to a crazy llama for advice? Easy there champ! How dare you call my people "random?" I will not tolerate this, Sir!
Why do I go to a crazy llama!? Okay I'm gonna take a guess on this and say it's because Ann Landers put a restraining order on you after your 342nd letter asking if it was normal to try to sodomize yourself?
Hope that helps,
My wife and I share a very unique view that the emotional and physical needs one experiences work on independent levels. We regularly (weekly) have dinner with our best friends and engage and what some people would consider swinging. Here's where my actual problem surfaces. I've come to prefer sleeping with my best friend's wife over my own. Now this is not a matter of apples and oranges, it's more like Corvette vs. Pinto (I'm talking '78 Stingray, not that pseudo-modern nonsense). I love my wife but she's as interesting in bed as a modern dance exhibit on a would-be-poker night.
What's my best attack strategy? Should I grit my teeth and just try to make our dinners more frequent? Should I talk to her about this? Or should I start meeting with "Becky" secretly? Help!
Hopeless in Hormones
While I tend to believe that you are bragging instead of seeking help, I'll play along.
BRAVO! Okay, had to get that out of the way.
Right off the bat, I gotta say not to try and meet "Becky" in secret. The most likely outcome is that you'll soon be having sex with neither. Plus, if you're having this weekly, that's pretty good. I don't even masturbate that often. And talk to your wife about this? Are you fucking crazy? The problem here is that you can be sure Becky and your wife are talking about this situation to some degree, so even if you try to work in some of Becky's moves when you're with your wife, she'll know where it's coming from. So that's probably a lose-lose proposition.
I would absolutely try to make these dinners more frequent. Hell, try to find out when Becky's other half is going to be out of town. Maybe if you can get the two of them in bed with you together, your wife can observe and pretend to figure it out on her own. But remember, you need to put electrical tape over the little red light on the camcorder hidden in the closet or they'll see it.
I'd say good luck, but I think that's been taken care of.
Hope that helps,
This is ANGER, you might remember me. I have a problem with your content on this site. This site had a beautiful and majestic purpose and that was to learn new ways of seeking revenge. Why now do I see that almost all of the letters are if not directly but blatant in the senselessness nature? Do you even care that your audience has dwindled form a vengeful society to the 13 year old that has some sick and attention craving obsession? I am not at all surprised, they did the same to rock. DAMN PUNK.
I hope to see this change you are so much better than this Grumpy. I miss the vengeful hating drunken llama. I hope to see you back soon
P.S. My adversary got hit by a bus. He is not dead just pretty banged up. I was driving the bus.
Of course I remember you! Long time, no vitriol!
I feel your pain, ANGER. I really do. I understand your frustration and empathize your need to vent.
Was that condescending enough?
The problem, ANGER, is that I can't control what people write in about. Sometimes I wish I could. Get your friends to write me with their problems ad I'll gladly help/throw gas on the fire.
Don't hate, ANGER. I'm still drunk and vengeful. I still like helping people deal with assholes, I just need them to ask.
Only you can prevent the further degradation of this website. (Okay, it's not as catchy as that fucking forest fire bear, but I'm working on it.)
Hope that helps,
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