The Monday Enema
Dear Dad Gone Mad,
Here's the scenario: Get to work. Everything's going great. Go over to new, and very excited about, girlfriend's cubicle. Start talking about our fun drinking escapades last night. Fart. Isn't loud. Smells like a rotten trash barge on the last day of August. Run away as fast as possible. The end.
HOW do I approach her after such a disastrous event? She was most definitely aware of the smell and there was no one else around to blame it on.
Any advice would be great. I've only been friends with her for a short time and would hate to have a fart come between us!
In the friendly confines of my marriage to Hot Wife, I like to think of a good fart as a gift to her, like a bouquet of roses or a case of Yoohoo. When one of us cuts loose a butt-cheek-flapping window-rattler or a pooter that smells especially heinous, it’s cause for a good, hearty laugh. It might behoove you to take a similar posture with your ladyfriend. Make it fun. Make it an ice-breaker, an entrée through which you can take your relationship to a higher, more pungent level. After all, is a union where bodily functions like burping and farting are suppressed the kind of relationship you want to be tangled up in?
I think it would be silly to retroactively apologize or beg forgiveness for a butt bomb you unleashed several days ago. “Hi, um remember that fucking nasty rat I cracked in your cubicle about five or six days ago? Yeah, well, I had a pretty gross quesadilla for lunch that day and, um, what I guess I’m trying to say is, um, I’m sorry. I hope this doesn’t make you think twice about going down on me tonight.” No. Absolutely not.
Look at this as a positive. You’ve already crossed an imaginary threshold – the fart barrier -- that most people in relationships sweat over. My suggestion is to do it again. Next time you feel a hardcore goober putting pressure on your sphincter, turn it loose. If she laughs, you’ve got yourself a winner. If she freaks out (which is highly unlikely given that she has already been subjected to one of your weapons of ass destruction), she’s probably as prissy little control freak who you should kick to the curb.
Dear Dad Gone Mad,
My boyfriend is a web designer...for porn sites. Yeah. We've only been going out for seven months, after three months we moved in with each other. He told me he did web design, but left out the porn of it. So we moved in with each other and crap and then he told me, so I was like "uh...OK" and then he went on a trip and I was looking through his closet for an AIR CD (I swear!) and I found a massive collection of porn DVDs. Not just a little bit of porn...A MASSIVE COLLECTION OF PORN.
The man is 23 for Christ’s sake! And he works on porn!! And has…MORE PORN! Um yeah, so my question is...is he worthy of keeping around? Or is he some sort of weird retard porn freak man thing? Oh yeah yeah yeah and he talks to some of the girls that he advertises sites for (filthy whores). On the phone.
Since I found the stash and all I asked him about it, and he said he's stopped talking to the girls and buying porn. Is he to be trusted? Or will he always just be a wanker?
girl who got a vibrator for valentines day from this man
Dear Girl Who Got a Vibrator for Valentine’s Day From This Man,
There are two issues here. One is the porn. The other is the personal interaction with the alleged porn starlets.
Unless the work your boyfriend does or the videos he possesses depict salacious acts with livestock or circus clowns or anyone from the cast of Barney’s Alphabet Zoo, he’s not hurting anyone. Shit, the guy is 23 years old. When I was 23, I was punching the munchkin five times a day and the issue of Playboy with a Vanna White pictorial was my bible. At 23, the kid’s hormones are buzzing around like an infant after a triple espresso. In fact, if he has a bearskin rug in his apartment, I suggest you wear shoes when walking on it.
As for his work, I’m told that porn on the web is an exceptionally lucrative pursuit. If you want the guy to buy you nice things and live in a neighborhood where you don’t have to keep mace in your purse when you go to visit him, let him follow his chosen career path. I don’t think it makes him “some sort of weird retard porn freak.”
My neighbor has season tickets for the Angels next to a guy who produces porn. When I ask the guy about the shit he sees at work (strictly for research purposes, of course), his descriptions make it seem as though he has become desensitized to the vision of women sticking 15-inch purple rubber penises into themselves. Your boyfriend may become similarly numb. Although I can’t understand how.
But if you’re really uncomfortable with his collection of porn, box it up and send it to my attention.
2. Talking With Filthy Whores On The Phone
This, obviously, is over the line. If he wants to chat with dirty sluts on the phone, he should have to pay $4.99 per minute like the rest of us.
If he says he’s stopped calling them, good. Now get over to Radio Shack, buy some bugging equipment and spy on his perverted ass to make sure he’s not cavorting with Roxanne Gravel, the chick who can shove a two-liter Pepsi bottle where the sun don’t shine, while you’re not looking.
Speaking of whores, I have a question for YOU: what were you doing move in with this cat after three months?
Submit your questions for next week’s Monday Enema to firstname.lastname@example.org