65 degrees. That’s the temperature where I start wearing flip flops. Maybe 60 if it’s sunny and I’m desperate. As a former Californian and lifelong lazy bastard, flip flops are the ideal footwear, in that I can put them on in two seconds with zero effort. Even laceless Converse All-Stars, bless their hearts, involve the exhausting and time-consuming act of bending over.

And yet there are always naysayers. People who give flip flops the misnomer “mandals” (check out the downvotes on Urban Dictionary). Marine Corps Staff NCO’s, who insist on calling them “shower shoes” (these people also tend to iron their jeans). Many Type A personalities. And the most insidious breed: those who like flip flops, but would never wear them in New York City. Longtime KSK commenter TheStarterWife expressed amazement that I would brave these dirty streets in open-toed shoes, and I read an article in GQ or Esquire sometime last year that touted the wonders of low-top Chucks in lieu of flip flops for navigating the Big Apple.

Now, I get it. New York is not a clean place in the summer (or ever). Garbage collection can make the smell less than ideal. The pollution is sometimes palpable. But it’s not like there are streams of liquid refuse running through every gutter in  the five boroughs. This isn’t Bangladesh. I’m not navigating the fishmongers of Chinatown in flip flops, or someplace even grosser, like Staten Island. There is, you know, a definitive layer of rubber or whatnot between my soles and the ground. But if they do happen to get a little more grime on them than my exposed arms or face, so what? THEY’RE JUST FEET. I’m not cooking a five-course meal with them later on. I’m not offering them to you as a greeting in lieu of shaking hands.

So lay off already. I’m comfortable.

This week’s ass-tastic bonus sexy comes from (a) the American Apparel Best Bottom in the World competition…

…and (b) a rare SFW entry from the magnificently NSFW Fuck Yeah Brazilian Girls.

Enjoy your weekend.

Pick one star/celebrity who is not a family member that you would choose to raise from the dead. Upon revival, they assume their form from the moment they died, which means you don’t necessarily get them in the prime of their life. You get 10 more years of that person after you raise them up.

Order:

Drew
Ape
Maj
Flubby
Falco
Ufford
Punter

1. Drew — Jimi Hendrix

2. Ape — Phil Hartman

“You may remember him from such shows as The Simpsons and SNL.”

3. Maj — Sean Taylor

4. flubby — Alex Chilton

“My first inclination is take Elvis or Jerry Garcia. But they were both miserable sons of bitches in their latter days so I don’t know if they would appreciate being resurrected. So I’ll take Alex Chilton, that way he won’t miss the Big Star show tomorrow night at SXSW.”

5. Falco — John Phillips Sousa

“Because no one has written a decent march in almost 80 years.”

6. Ufford — Kurt Cobain

“Can I get a Tupac/Biggie combo package? No? Then fuck ‘em both, I’ll take Cobain.”

flubby: “20 minutes later, Cobain kills himself again.”

7. Punter — Marilyn Monroe

8. Punter — Benjamin Franklin

“I think that relationship has a chance.”

9. Ufford — Heath Ledger

“Too many actors are candy-ass fruitcakes, and I want another Batman movie with the Joker.”

10. Falco — Corey Haim

“The world just plain needs him.”

11. flubby — Barbaro

12. Maj — Mitch Hedberg

If I was on death row and given one last meal I would ask for a fortune cookie. “Come on ‘long prosperous life!’”

“With apologies to Big, Pac, and the 10 other comedians on my list. ”

13. Ape — Len Bias

“But only if I can get him out of playing for the Celtics”

14. Drew — Sam Kinison

OH OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

Sweet Jesus, people, that was a lot of questions! I left more questions out of the mailbag this week than ever before, and it was still more than I could really handle. I’ll try to get to some of the leftovers next week, assuming we don’t suffer another tidal wave of submissions. As always, my apologies to not getting to everyone.

Let’s get straight into it, shall we?

Dear KSK,
Sex — The giant elephant in the room is that I’m a 29 year old virgin.

As Riker and Picard would say, *sad trombone* NOOOOOOO!

I was incredibly shy early in life (a lot of it comes from my height. Being 6′8″ and insecure is a bad combo) and by the time I got to college when I should be experimenting with women I was put on anti-depressants that killed my libido. So I missed the golden window to be inexperienced with women. Now, we could go over the many things I’m doing wrong in my life, but I know these and am working on addressing them.

All right! I can skip the self-improvement lecture this mailbag!

Now that my sex drive is back in life after 10 years, I’m dating a lot more. While I have a guilt problem with one-night stands, I have no problem with pre-marital sex (Catholicism is only slightly effective). I’ve been dating this girl for about a month now and things are going well. I like her, and we’re nearing the point where she wants to take the next step. My question is should I tell her I’m a virgin as a pre-emptive strike for my impending mediocrity? She knows about the anti-depressants so do I say something like “listen, the anti-depressants I was on zapped my libido so I haven’t had sex in a long time”? Or do I just go through with it, have a minute of horrible sex and hope she forgives me and continues to want to sleep with me?

Yowza. That’s kind of a tough one, because there’s a chance that she doesn’t want the burden of being The First, and/or she could get skittish if her retard friends get in her head about “Why is this guy a virgin at 29?”

However, as a rule of thumb, I preach honesty, and ideally, your girl will be understanding of your transition from awkward teen giant to depressed adult on boner-killing meds. You have a much better shot at enjoying better and more frequent sex (and developing some skills) if she understands where you’re coming from, as opposed to you finishing after a minute and shouting, “Score! Not a virgin anymore, SUCKA!”

Football — my team blows goats. No question, just me pondering trying to resist the urge to kill our coach & GM.
– Anonymous

You’re better off killing the owner. You kill the coach and GM, well, the owner’s just gonna find someone else who sucks.

Dear KSK,
Sex question: I am married with child. I live near my in-laws, who blatantly prefer other grandchildren to my daughter.

Is she ugly? Maybe a little slow?

This angers my wife and me. I was helping the mother-in-law with her computer when I innocently came across an email where she confirms not liking our daughter as much. I then not-so-innocently found another email where she refers to me as a “freaking idiot.”

Background on MIL: she is an ignorant, hypocritical, uneducated, Christian/Republican extremist. Her opinion is tainted. Still, gatherings are now awkward, if only for me.

The question: whether to explain to my wife what MIL is saying to others about us, given that (1) I violated MIL’s trust by reading the second email (but I tend to prefer full disclosure with the wife) and (2) this will almost certainly sever wife/MIL’s relationship. And this involves sex because I feel like I’m fucked either way, and if mishandled I may lose privileges for some time.
-S.M.

Well, for starters, there’s nothing wrong with being Christian or Republican. And being uneducated isn’t necessarily a bad thing, either; I’ve met plenty of people without college diplomas who have a better understanding of the world than people who’ve spent the decade after high school with their heads in books. However, ignorant and hypocritical is no way to go through life, and those traits should never be rewarded or tolerated, even by family members.

Before I jump into my advice, a bit of a disclaimer here: I come from a family where both of my parents have rocky relationships with their parents, and my sister’s in-law situation with her husband is less than ideal. I’ve seen the maddening stress people go through to try to please their in-laws (or their own parents), and I’ve rarely seen the kind of catharsis — the mental revelation — that comes from standing up for yourself and saying, “Fuck you, that’s not okay.”

Be up front with your wife. Tell her everything. She’s your life partner, after all. Sure, you shouldn’t have gone into the mom-in-law’s email, but I think it’s within the boundaries of normal human temptation given the circumstances. Besides, what would be so bad about not having to deal with your mother-in-law any more?

[Witty Title]

What is your opinion on college bars? I’m near graduation at a very respectable, highly competitive private university (yes, I’m an elitist douche) and every time that I go to our one local bar, my initial, somewhat buzzed optimism inevitably turns into dismay. It seems like the majority of female patrons are more concerned with social, and secondarily, financial status than anything else and seem preconditioned to look for certain status symbols like wealth and greek standing, as opposed to intellect and fantasy football championships. Shocking, I know. Anyway, my question is basically the following: Is the post-collegiate landscape any friendlier to people like me, i.e. intelligent, thoughtful types, or am I doomed to constantly have to validate myself in terms of arbitrarily valued accomplishments like which frat I allowed to sodomize me or what I-bank my dad works at? Basically, how much does social and financial status matter after college when girls are no longer allowed to be so picky?

Girls will ALWAYS be picky. Until about their 30th birthday.

And no, I’m not an awkward, afraid-to-approach girls type, relatively speaking, I’m just sick of having my conversations end at which frat I didn’t join or what BMW I don’t drive. And yes, I know I might sound bitter, but I’d like to hear that maybe the rest of the world beyond where I’m stuck at isn’t always this way.

Well, well, well. Mister Fancypants McPrivateschool came running to the sound of the elitist clarion call, but didn’t like it when everyone there turned out to be elitist assholes. Arizona State doesn’t look so bad anymore, does it?

Anyway, there’s good news and bad news. The bad news is that all women, to some extent, care about financial status. And generally speaking, the hotter the woman, the more likely she is to care; it’s why stock traders have sexier wives social workers. But it’s not necessarily a bad thing: pretty girls are a nice incentive to turn off the Xbox and make something of ourselves.

The good news is that we all fit in somewhere. I’ve lived in ten different states in every region in the country, from cities to college towns to suburbs to the middle of fucking nowhere, and I never felt like I fit in anywhere until I moved to Brooklyn. Sure, I can complain about annoying hipsters and bookish pussies and some entitled douchebags who’ve lost perspective of the world outside their bubble, but it works for me. There are other writers, other bloggers, other people who share my sense of humor. It’s friendly to dogs and bikes. The whole borough is casual. I belong here.

There’s somewhere like that for you, too — and it’s likely not a specific, unique-in-the-world place. Whatever societal niche you’re seeking, you can probably find it within 75 miles of any major American city. Find some people you like (or admire, or want to emulate), and follow them.

Football: No real question, I win every two or three years–thats paying off with the ladies! That being said, how do you think Anquan Boldin will help Flacco progress? I think hes a top 10 QB with the right weapons, but what do I know, I’m just a Baltimoron.
-Signed, Switch Hitting Jesus (Thats a baseball reference ’cause its baseball season)

I would think Boldin can only help the Ravens. Keep in mind, however, that high-profile #2 receivers, when they make the jump to another team to be the #1 guy, often experience a drop-off when, say, Larry Fitzgerald isn’t getting double-covered on the other side of the field. Regardless, given that Derrick Mason — who’s solid, but certainly not electric — was seemingly Flacco’s only non-Ray Rice target, you can probably expect your QB to continue to improve.

As for ranking him in the top 10, who cares? There are people who think Eli Manning’s a top-10 quarterback, and they might even be right. Having a guy in the 70th percentile isn’t all that exciting.

1. Football: I’m convinced that there will be a lockout in 2011. The very thought gives me hives. That said, now that the players’ union have an actual qualified labor attorney running the show, I suspect that they won’t roll so easily and we’re fated for armageddon. My question: should I turn to drink now, or just live in denial and try to catch up once it becomes a fait accompli?

Settle down, Chicken Little. What the hell does worrying accomplish? Will there be a lockout? I dunno. What can I do about it? What action can I possibly take that would make the billionaire owners and millionaire athletes to stop and take my desires into consideration? Nothing. There is nothing that I can do about it. The possibility of an NFL lockout may as well be the weather, or an earthquake, or the possibility that I get killed by a falling construction crane or drunk driver. I can’t affect whether it happens, so the only thing I accomplish by worrying about it is raising my blood pressure and shortening my life in little fear-stained increments.

2. Sex: I get turned on by the woman in the Progressive Insurance commercials. (Yes, really.) I think she’d be kind of crazy in bed and, unlike most women I’ve encountered over the past few years, au naturel down below. Everyone I mention this to thinks I’m a lunatic. Am I?
-Nacho

Ah, Flo, also known as actress Stephanie Courtney. Are you crazy for wanting her? Well, yes. But you’re not alone; I once talked to a girl who said that “every” guy she knew wanted Flo.

It’s the crazy eyes. The bright expressions, the enthusiasm, and those wild, untamed eyes that guarantee a woman fucks like a banshee and comes like the wave pool at Typhoon Lagoon. They’re the kind of traits that make you look past her clinginess and weird baby talk because her Kegel muscles milk your cock every so hard every weekend that by Sunday night your ejaculate is just a little puff of smoke.

It’s all fun and ‘gasms until your pet bunny gets boiled.

Dear Counts of Castle Dingleberry,
Sex: I had a drunken threesome with 2 girls at work after a team outing. None of us were really that drunk, but I was buzzed enough that my judgment lapsed. Neither girl is particularly good looking (I know, I know: descriptions are worthless without pics, but at least I’m not claiming they were 9’s) and the sex was not nearly as cool as it looks in porn, but it was something to do on a Thursday night after a bit of a dry spell.

You heard it from this guy first. Threesomes: an okay way to pass the time if you’re bored.

Going into it, we all agreed that it was just going to be a fun, onetime, non-committal thing. Since that night one girl (we’ll call her Rebecca) has acted the same as before. In other words, she’s cool with it. The other girl (we’ll call her Amy) has proceeded to go bugshit crazy. She cornered me in the lunchroom and claims we had some kind of connection and that it was fate, etc…etc. She is openly hostile to Rebecca whenever she sees the two of us chatting and it has completely disrupted a perfectly good 3 way friendship (I suppose sex will do that every time, huh?). It hasn’t disrupted our work yet, but if Amy continues to claim we should be together, that we’re soul mates, etc, etc, I’m afraid it might. I really enjoy my work and where I work, and the people I work with, and I don’t want to quit, but I don’t know what to do if Amy continues with all this crazy relationship talk.

And this is why you DON’T want to have to sex with Flo. Good luck, buddy.

Fantasy Football: I’ve been in multiple FFLs per year for 5 years running. I spend maybe 1 or 2 hours a week maintaining my rosters. I’m thinking about running a league this year – how much more time will I need to invest to run a successful league (and not have my friends get pissed off at me for being an absentee commissioner)?
Cheers,
Fuct at Work

I’ve never been a commissioner before, but it doesn’t seem like it takes some huge amount of time. Set up the league, organize the draft, and mediate the occasional dispute. The biggest headaches will be the draft and getting everyone to pay (try locking their lineup before Week 1 until you get a check, that usually helps). It’s not like it’s a second job.

Hi guys,
So I guess I’ll start with the fantasy question. I don’t really watch much football and I never played fantasy before, but my friends from school all make fun of me so I’ve started reading this blog and I am going to play next year. Go Lions! Anyway, I am from outside Detroit and I was wondering if you thought there would be any Lions players worth picking up next year so that I could root for them.

Kevin Smith and Calvin Johnson are good Lions to have for fantasy purposes, but I’d advise against being a homer in fantasy. You’re already going to be in enough pain when the Lions lose, you don’t want to be doubly pissed at Johnson for getting tackled at the 2-yard-line instead of scoring.

Now onto the sex, which is the real reason I am writing in. I have been dating my girlfriend for a little over a year. She is really nice and I like her a lot. Before her, I had never had a girlfriend, and my sexual experiences consisted of two drunken nights with big girls. A couple months ago, my girlfriend and I both got really drunk. We got home, and she told me she really had wanted to experiment with something, and she took out a strap on. At first I thought it was a little weird, but I like her a lot and was pretty drunk so I went along. Also, I had kind of been thinking that might be fun too, but I was a little scared to ask until she brought it up. Anyway, it hurt a little at first but I kind of liked it, and she seemed really into it. The problem is, since then that’s all she wants to do. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a lot of fun, but I feel kind of emasculated and would like to be able to have sex with her too. What do you think I should do?
Thanks guys,
Bob in Arizona

Wow. Just… wow. First — and this is important for the unenlightened masses — a woman fucking you with a strap-on is NOT gay. It doesn’t fall within the realm of my tastes, but the gender of the people involved, not the act, determines whether something is homosexual or heterosexual.

Now then. Assuming that this email is not fabricated, what’s more emasculating than you getting pounded in the ass by your girlfriend is your unwillingness to get what you want in the bedroom. Even men looking to score anal from their girlfriends don’t expect to get it every time they have sex — why should it be that way with you? Try saying, “Not tonight,” and work from there.

Dear KSK,
FF: As far as fantasy goes, what is proper etiquette for breaking up a long running league? I have been playing fantasy with the same guys since high school. Last year 2 of our regular crew dropped out and one being our long running commish, but he assured us he got someone who would be “better” than him at it. Both new guys turned out to be douches, and I still have yet to see my winning payout. There are about 4 of us who want to either start up on our own or kick the newly appointed commish out. Unfortunately he happens to be the brother of a wife of one of the guys, so it wouldn’t be well received to vote him off the island. Any thoughts?

Does no one vet candidates any more? Christ, why would you let a guy who’s new to the league be the commissioner? That’s just stupid.

Sounds like this is a problem for the guy who’s married to the commissioner’s sister. Make him do the dirty work.

Sex: Back to the previous situation I had written before around January-ish.

See: This mailbag, in which our 22-year-old protagonist struggled with his uncertainty of committing to a relationship with a 33-year-old woman he really liked. Let’s take a trip in the way-back machine to see what advice I gave after he started having second thoughts about backing out of the fledgling relationship:

You’re only a total idiot for acting like you want her more now that she’s put you on ice. She sounds like a great woman, but you’re obviously not ready to settle down. You need to respect the single woman in her 30s: she knows what she wants in a man, and she only has so much time to produce babies. There will be other women for you, and by the time you’re her age, you’ll want someone who’s your age now.

Basically was with a down awesome older chick phenomenal sex great girl but who wanted more and I tried to let go cause I thought it was not what I wanted. I didn’t think I wanted a relationship with her but was wavering because she really is great and even though there is a big age difference after comparing her to girls my age in all aspects she still just takes the cake. We have a ton of common friends and factors put us in the same places and after seeing her start dating a guy who was a total toolbag and her getting closer to him, in an awesome fit of drunkenness pulled her aside to try and tell her how I felt but ended up started a fight with toolbag before I could even hear what she had to say. Got busted up thrown out of my favorite bar forever and a nice refreshing night in jail. Acting like that is out of character for me but I still did it and own it. Thinking more and more I have made a mistake with this girl. I am not going to find someone like her and compounded with my liquid courage of the night the situation just got way out of hand. Now, she won’t talk to me take my calls doesn’t say anything about the situation to any mutual friends or anything after I acted like a moron so any good advice of how to get her to even acknowledge me again would be appreciated.
-LS

She SHOULDN’T acknowledge you. You passed on the opportunity to be with this woman, then you acted like a drunk young dumbass. Then you followed that up by being desperate and needy. Leave her alone, and apply the lessons you’ve learned to your next relationship.

Another thing to apply? Some commas in your sentences.

Hello,
I’ll try to keep this brief. I’m 30 and single, and I have a solid career and a house. I’d like it if the next relationship I’m in at least has the possibility of working out long term. I’ve been on a bit of a dry spell lately, and my only previous long-term relationship (2 years) involved a girl with some fairly serious drug problems and resulting sanity issues. The current story involves a bachelor’s party and a strip club,

There was one dancer there that caught my eye, so I asked her for a table dance for the group, which was great. I then asked her for a lap dance, which of course turned into three. It was by far the most attentive & enthusiastic lap dance I’ve ever had (out of maybe 10 in my life), and it included some kissing and titty-sucking, which I assume strippers don’t generally do. (She told me as much). She also wanted me to choke her, which I did, just right apparently. I tipped her well

Rightfully so.

and acted warmly and appreciatively in general. I thought we had established a good rapport, at least as far as the stripper/client relationship goes, and I thought she seemed like a genuinely cool person. At the end of the night, I was ready to go home to jerk off and try to put the girl out of my mind, but she gave me her number as I was leaving (without my solicitation).

Oh snap!

Here’s the question. Am I fucking batshit insane for thinking that there’s any remote chance that she could be a good woman to me? Has something like this ever worked out non-catastrophically in modern history? On one hand I think it’s worth a shot, but on the other hand I see potential for the situation to blow up in my face.
Thanks,
Burt Reynolds

Realistically, is it a wise investment of your time for a long-term relationship? No, probably not. Do you need to explore the possibility of dating her? Yes, absolutely. You owe it to yourself and the rest of mankind. End of discussion.

KSK Brothers,
I started dating my girlfriend about 11 months ago I’m 27 and she is 26. Her job causes her to travel 2 weeks out of every 6 weeks and we both become pretty sexually frustrated. A few weeks ago while I was at work she innocently sent me a pic of her enormous breasts. They are 38 DDD. She is a not a model, but neither am I and I like big women. This escalated all the way up to the point of an all out picture trade and mutual masturbation over the phone. I had never done that before.

Ah, congratulations on smashing a bottle of champagne against the hull of the USS Phone Sex.

So she came back home and I was over at her place messing around on her computer when I found a folder containing about 300 pictures of her in sexy lingerie, playing with her tits, and fucking herself with various toys. I was blown away and when I brought it up later she proceeded to tell me that it is how she made a living during college. She would sell pics of herself on Craigslist to various men. Maybe Falco? I feel like I should not have a problem with this because it was over 2 years ago, but its like I’m dating a fucking porn star or something.

No, not at all. Porn stars are sex professionals, and much better compensated. Your girlfriend’s more of an amateur fetish model. About on par with a phone sex operator, I’d say.

I feel like I’m having sex with 100 random men when I’m having sex with her.

Okay, quit being a bitch.

I love her very much and things were going so well up until this point, but now we have not had sex since this happened. I feel like I don’t know her anymore. She assures me that she only took the pics to sell and she never shows her face in any pic. I asked her to delete them and she did as far as I know. Am I blowing this out of proportion?

Yes.

Up until 2 weeks ago I was sure this was the girl I was going to marry. Maybe I’m a pussy? She says she has only had 7 sexual partners before me. I don’t know if that is a lot or a little for a woman.

She’s 26. Let’s say she lost her virginity at 18. Is one guy per year a lot?

Listen, I don’t want to side with your girlfriend’s skeevy exploitation of perverts, but you need to sack up and enter the 21st century, Nancy.

I have had 11, but yet I feel like I’m fucking a whore whenever we do get intimate and then I lose interest. Do I need help? Do I need to end it? My buddy I mentioned it to thinks I have trust issues and I should see a shrink. I don’t know anymore. I’ve hardly slept or ate since this happened. She told me she would wait until I got over this because she wants to be with me doesn’t think it is a big deal. She said that I would be surprised by how many college girls earn money by selling pictures of themselves online.

So not only have you had more sexual partners, you’ve had them at a faster rate, and yet she’s the whore because her acts — which, a couple weeks ago, opened the door to your first phone sex — don’t fit into your definition of morality? Frankly, I don’t want to recommend anything that might heal your rift. I don’t think it’s fair to subject your girlfriend to your self-righteous attitude.

Just so you know I was not snooping on her computer. I was installing new tax software for her and she wanted it in a certain folder.

A decision I’m sure she regrets. Even if you guys work something out, you’ve now established that openness and honesty can lead to you punishing her with your judgment. Way to fuck it up, pal.

Fantasy: Better keeper, Forte or Benson?
Greg

And this is why I love the mailbag. An epic, worrisome sex dilemma punctuated with a simple fantasy football question. Fantasy may be a constant mindfuck filled with lose-lose scenarios, but it’s got nothing on life.

Go with Forte.

In the past, we’ve been privileged enough to share commentary from author Stefan Fatsis. Drew and I have written shitty books, so I guess that counts too. Well, the proud tradition of published scribes visiting KSK continues today, with noted economists Steven D. Levitt and Stephen J. Dubner, the gentlemen behind Freakonomics and SuperFreakonomics.

To be perfectly frank, we aren’t very good at macroeconomics. We couldn’t tell you how to lift the country from its economic tribulations. That requires analyzing many moving parts and solving extremely involved calculations. Basically, the math is difficult and we don’t feel like doing it. But by using the best analytical tools of economics, we are able to ask provocative questions, ones that might reveal an answer that bucks the conventional wisdom. Often, such accepted notions achieve their status simply because they are comforting, if not entirely true. And that is the overarching theme of Freakonomics: asking the right question to reveal a hidden truth. Most of the time, these new truths won’t benefit you in your everyday life in any significant or even perceivable way, but c’mon – don’t you want a few arcane factoids to impress that leggy brunette at the bar?

Are NFL Players Saving Us By Driving Drunk?

It’s a question that arises all too often. We hear about an athlete getting a DUI or some other drunk driving related trouble, and incredulously we wonder how they could be so foolish. Often, we shrug our shoulders and chalk it up to the sheer hubris of athletes thinking they are above the law or even indestructible.

But could they actually be saving lives?

In general, professional athletes are laconic individuals and that’s even when they don’t have reason to be skeptical of the motives of two economists turned book writers. Also, a lot of them are black. And black people terrify us. These elements combine to complicate the data-collecting process, which in turns makes study of their habits next to impossible.

That’s why anytime we deal with something relating to black people we deploy that Indian guy with the PhD in sociology. He really seems to “get” them.

As he did with the Chicago gang of drug dealers, Sudhir embedded himself within a tight-knit group of NFL players. To assure that his findings would not be altered by them changing their behavior because they knew they were the subjects of scholastic study, he promised to keep their identities secret.

One thing he found that probably comes as little surprise is that NFL players like to drink. And a lot at that. But he also discovered that when NFL players go out, they make a concerted effort to make sure as many people know about it as possible. They have agents and press people put the word out on Twitter and to radio stations. The result is obvious: a large crowd shows up to gawk at the famous athlete boozing it up in their midst.

So what? So there’s a big crowd to view the dumb oaf make a fool of himself? How does that change matters? Well, when comparing statistics on traffic fatalities in the towns where the athletes went out, it turns out it matters quite a bit. By pitting nights that an athlete announced their presence at a specific nightspot versus the condition on the same evening with no athlete out, the stats show the chance of a traffic and pedestrian related fatality fell nearly 15 percent on a night in which an athlete was out on the town. The reasoning was simple: the athlete drew enough people to that specific establishment so there were fewer people on the road than normal. That also means fewer targets for the drunk athlete when he leaves the club.

While any loss of life is always unfortunate, it can’t be denied that NFL players are actually saving lives when they go out on drunken benders. For every Donte Stallworth and Leonard Little situation, there are countless other lives that have been spared by these carousing athletes. But DUI cases and traffic related accidents are phenomena that are easily sensationalized by mass media, which are always eager to employ scare tactics with the public. Knowing what you know now, will you decry them in the future?

We all know that Brett Favre was a tremendous drunk, but did you know that his old coach shipped him off to Green Bay in an effort to get him sober? Because according to legendary douchebag Jerry Glanville that’s exactly why his Falcons made their historically lopsided trade with Green Bay. What, you thought it had something to do with Glanville never wanting Favre to begin with? Oh that’s just silly. You probably also think that Peyton Manning’s Super Bowl interception was an “accident.”

“I had to get him out of Atlanta. . . . I could not sober him up,” Glanville said. “I sent him to a city where at 9:00 at night the only thing that’s open is Chili Joes. You can get it two ways, with or without onions. And that’s what made Brett Favre make a comeback was going to a town that closed down. If I would have traded him to New York, nobody to this day would have known who Brett Favre ever was.”

Man, that Glanville. What a human being. Had he not sent Favre to the safe haven of Wisconsin (a place where you can barely even find alcohol) the future MVP’s career could have been tainted by excessive drinking and, perish the thought, drug use. Consider that bullet dodged.

29. NCAA Tournament Talk. PUNTE, Brandon and Karl run down some NFL issues, including why everyone seems to want a mediocre quarterback. Eric Angevine of Storming The Floor “DOT NET” (complete with their own Wiki site) and ESPN joins us in a “Bring Your Own Compound Swear Word” appearance, and he shares his thoughts on this year’s bracket, the state of the tournament, and how he caught on with ESPN.

Recorded Wednesday 3/17/10; runs 44 minutes. Listen here, Subscribe on iTunes or Right-Click the logo to save the .mp3 file (”Save target as…”)

Attached Media: audio/mpeg (13 139 ko)

Allen Smith: I don’t believe it, Terrence! We made it to the field of 64! It took beating Winthrop to do it, but we’re in the tournament for real now!

Terrence Calvin: Yup.

Smith: Oh, man. We’ve got Duke next. A one seed. Coach K. All that tradition. They’re a powerhouse, man.

Calvin: Yup.

Smith: Think we can beat them?

Calvin: You never know, man.

Smith: Yeah, but a sixteen seed has never beaten a one seed. It’s gonna be tough.

Calvin: Yup.

Smith: You think Coach Ivory has something up his sleeve?

Calvin: I don’t know. What do I look like? The sleeve inspector?

(door flies open)

Coach Ivory: Great win, boys! Great win! You proved you belong in this tournament, and I couldn’t be prouder of you!

Smith: Thanks, Coach.

Coach Ivory: But we can’t be satisfied. We didn’t come all this way just to bow down for Duke, did we?

Smith: No.

Coach Ivory: I know it’s a quick turnaround, and I know the odds are stacked against us. But men, I believe you can bat this Duke team. I really do. And I’ve asked someone very special to come in today and help you believe it too.

Smith: Who?

Ryan: HOW THE FUCK YOU DOIN’, BOYS?

Smith: Hey, that’s coach Rex Ryan of the Jets!

Ryan: You’re goddamn right it is! My name is Rex Ryan, and I love HARD TACKLIN’ AND SOFT PUSSYCHEWIN’!

Calvin: Did he say “pussychew”?

Ryan: Oh, men. MEN. Men, I feel fucking GREAT today! Doctors put a ring around my stomach the other day. And pretty soon, they’re gonna have to put a ring around my cock! BECAUSE COACH RYAN IS GETTING’ ON THE FUCKHORSE AGAIN! You believe that! I lost 16 pounds today alone, and that was just after taking a shit and cleanin’ my bellybutton! HOO WEE, I FEEL GREAT! The key with these stomach staples, men, is portion control. That’s why I start every day with a burritoita, instead of my traditional whole burro.

Smith: You used to eat whole donkeys for breakfast?

Ryan: Goddamn right! BECAUSE REX RYAN LOVES STARTIN’ HIS DAY WITH A BIG PIECE OF ASS! Now, first order of business: NICKNAMES. Smith, your new nickname is Smitty!

Smith: People call me that already.

Ryan: Then your new nickname is… THE SPANIARD.

Smith: But I’m not Spanish.

Ryan: Roll with it! Who else we got on this roster here? Lebaron Weathers? What is that, like LeBron’s name if he were a World War 2 fighter pilot? Weathers, your new nickname is Dawn Patrol! Tyree Glass, your new nickname is After Burner! Smith, your new NEW nickname is 1941! I love video games where I get to bomb things!

(nibbles on stalk of endive wrapped in bacon)

Smith: Okay.

Ryan: Who else we got here? Savalance Townsend? Goddamn son, that sounds like the name of a dragon, or some kind of giant lizard. Townsend, your new name is HYDRA, because I want you to get extra head! Now, gentlemen, Coach Ivory here… is that right? Your name is Ivory?

Coach Ivory: Yes.

Ryan: Well, you are the LEAST ivory fucker I’ve ever seen! You’re about as ivory as octopus ink, fella! I love it! Coach Ivory, your new nickname is White Darkness. Now, next order of business: bounties! Men, these little Duke faggots look like real slimy bags of shit! So I’m personally donating my freezer full of Omaha Steaks (which I’m no longer supposed to eat, at least on Tuesdays) to the first player that trips this little Scheyer fucker and causes him to break his goddamn nose on the court!

(takes very tiny sip of drinkable peach yogurt, then much bigger sip)

Coach Ivory: We’d prefer to win without any shady doings, Coach.

Ryan: Nothing’s shady if you’re doing it to that dirty Polack and his flock of Hitler Youth! FUCK THEM INTO THE GROUND! Now, next order of business: THUGGING. Men, I understand this… basketball game you play… doesn’t allow for blitzin’ or tacklin’ or doin’ that thing where you knock the fucking sperm out of a guy taking a pass over the middle. Sounds like fucking ladies’ brunch to me, but it’s a free country. But Coach White Darkness here says you all get FIVE fouls a game. Is that right?

(licks sugar off of graham cracker)

Everyone: Yes.

Ryan: Well men, I want you to use those fouls to ATTACK! ATTACK ATTACK ATTACK ATTACK ATTACK ATTACK! ATTACK! You have five fouls, men. The first one should take off an arm. The second should take off a titty. The third should take that pristine cunt’s head right off!

Smith: What about the other two fouls?

Ryan: Save those for the cockpunchin’. Now, men. MEN. You and I know no one gives you a prayer in hell of winning this game you’re gonna play. They’re Duke, with all their fancy All-Americans and dipshit fans who chant math problems and all that queerness. They didn’t even respect you enough to keep you out of that retard play-in game. You are just a name on a sheet to millions of people. An item to be instantly crossed off. You don’t even get your own line on the bracket. You have to share it with those LOSERS from Winthrop Waitering School. You are an afterthought, that’s for goddamn sure.

(opens fresh bag of sugar snap peas, dips them in Skippy)

But when I look around this room, I don’t see a bunch of afterthoughts. I see MEN. I see fucking WINNERS. Do you believe me when I tell you you’re winners?

Everyone: Yes.

Ryan: Oh, that is some fucking weak BULLSHIT. I TELL YOU BOYS YOU’RE AL WINNERS, AND YOU’RE GONNA SALUTE THAT WITH SOME LIMPDICK AFFIRMATION? WHERE ARE YOUR FUCKING BALLS? 1941, YOU GOT BALLS?

Smith: Yes.

Ryan: Take ‘em out!

Smith: Sir?

Ryan: Come on, it’s a locker room! Everyone’s seen your speed bag already. Whip it out.

(cooks egg white omelet with six kinds of bacon inside)

Smith: Well, okay. (takes out balls)

Ryan: Look at those balls, men.

(takes out tape measure)

Roughly seven inches around. Hanging about three inches down from the groin. I think if you measure those Duke boys’ nuts, you’ll find roughly the same measurements. It’s no different. They’re the same balls you’re used to back in Old Hickory.

Smith: Pine Bluff.

Ryan: Whatever. But you know what those Duke boys don’t have? They don’t have this.

(grabs Smith’s penis with one hand, nibbles on cheddar rice cake with other)

Smith: Hey, that’s my penis!

Ryan: Take a good look, men. Because those white boys at Duke don’t have the fucking deer legs you men have. I can guarantee you that. YOU MEN HAVE THEM OUTCOCKED AT EVERY TURN. Look at this python. 1941, I bet you do some serious damage with this fucker, don’t you?

Smith: Well, I…

Ryan: Oh! Oh! Ol’ 1941 USES HIS B12 TO CARPET BOMB SOME CARPET! THAT IS FUCKING GREAT HUSTLE!

(lets go of penis, slaps Smith on the ass, hard)

Smith: Ow!

Ryan: Men, no one believes in you. Hell, I didn’t even know you were a fucking school until White Darkness called me and offered me free first class airfare and luxury accommodations. But just because everyone else believe that doesn’t mean you have to. FUCK EVERYONE ELSE. Only the men in this room know what you’re truly capable of. And I say, from the looks of ya, that you have everything you need to take those little Blue Homos and POUND THEIR FUCKING ASSES. Do you believe me?

Everyone: YES!

Ryan: You are fucking WINNERS. You are going to take your five fouls and you are going LAY DOWN THE FUCKING HAMMER OF THE GODS ON THOSE PIECES OF SHIT. You are fucking LIONS. You will hunt them down and snap their necks with your mighty lion jaws. And then you will bury your face in their fucking warm blood. They won’t know what’s coming. They won’t know a fucking locomotive is coming out of that dressing room, ready to run their asses right off the fucking track. They won’t know they’re about to go down the way no fucking one seed has EVER gone down. Only you know that. Right here. Right now. DO YOU BELIEVE ME?

Everyone: YES!

Ryan: ARE YOU GONNA TIE THOSE DAISIES TO A POST AND BLOW THEM TO FUCKING JESUS?

Everyone: YES!

Ryan: FUCKING BRING IT IN.

(everyone brings it in)

Ryan: Men, you going to fucking WIN. And then we’re all going out for fucking SALAD AND MINERAL WATER… AND ANAL!

Everyone: YAY!

Ryan: FUCKING LIONS ON THREE! ONE TWO THREE!

Everyone: LIONS!

Ryan: Hoo wee! That was good. Now I gotta drink a fucking protein shake.

Smith: I think we can beat Duke, Terrence.

I can honestly say that today is one of the greatest days in Redskins offseason history. This totally makes up for Bruce Smith, Deion Sanders, Dana Stubblefield, Adam Archuleta, and all of the others. The Sex Cannon is a Redskin.

Name: Tony Washington
College: Abilene Christian (DII)

Likes: The Bible.
Dislikes: Stuff that’s not mentioned in the Bible.

Height: 6′6″
Weight: 310

Position: Offensive Tackle

Why His Name Might Sound Vaguely Familiar: Oh yeah, that. See, he’s the guy who fucked his sister.

Not To Be Confused With: Brother Love

Favorite Games: Taboo, Don’t Wake Daddy, Sorry

What His College Coaches Say About Him: It could have been worse, it could have been his brother. Man that would have been so gay.

What He Told The Scouts: “He said where he comes from, this kind of thing happens all the time.”

Oof?: Oof.

Who Wants Him: He can block, right? Shit, Mike Shanahan would fuck his grandmother for a decent line. But first he has to know if the kid can how to throw a good cut block without drawing a flag. Ah fuck it, he can always learn.

Who Will Take Him: Dallas. Because Jerry Jones is a sucker for a good incest story.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had to correct people on that. They’ll be all, like, “I’m going as Favrenstein for Halloween DERP DERP DERPITY DERP.”

No, listen, you asshole. Favrenstein is the CREATOR. You mean Favrenstein’s MONSTER! She’s the big scary one with bolts in her neck and chins to her FUPA. Why is that so hard to grasp?!

[Bloody jersey abortion brought to you by Big League Stew and drugs]

This would probably pass for hilarious in the Antarctic Circle; but seriously, if a couple of penguins can realize what a bad decision it was for the Cleveland Browns to sign Jake Delhomme, why couldn’t they? To be fair, when most of a typical day involves standing around in the snowy elements, that leaves a lot of time to think about other things. Like going out and buying a Ford Taurus, for example.

Mike Holmgren just made the biggest mistake of his life. The Cleveland Browns will never emerge from the dregs of the NFL until they learn how to properly handle a franchise quarterback. In what has to be the team’s worst move since they unceremoniously dropped Tim Couch, GM Mike Holmgren shipped former first round pick Brady Quinn to Denver for a fullback, a sixth rounder, and possibly a “conditional” pick. Travishamockery! Now I don’t know what a conditional pick is, but I do know good conditioning when I see it, and Quinn practically defines the word. [Nosebleeds (a blog that really seems to get it.]

When we last left Indianapolis airport spokeswalrus Peter King, he was telling you how much Sean Payton loves his Juicy Fruit. Grab a stick. Pull it oooooout. The taste is gonna move ya when you pop it in your moooouuuthh. He also told you that free agency is totally overrated, BUT BOY DID HE LOVE THAT PEPPERS SIGNING. He also was tailgated. In JERSEY, of all places! And he recommended you ask Matt Millen about the time he helped give birth to a calf. Oh, is Matt Millen not a close friend of yours? Pity. Boy, does he have some wild stories, like the time he drafted Ernie Sims while dressed as a penguin.

So what of this week? Will Peter praise? Will he wonder? Will he adore? Will people who steal free newspapers finally get what’s coming to them? What does Anne Rice think? Will we find out the secret to why Derek Jeter is so good? (HINT: He works hard!) Read on. This could get retarded, and the operative word there is “could”.

Whoa. Looking like a dead Sunday, middle of March, with me still incredulous over the Browns paying Jake Delhomme $7 million.

They did? HOLY SHIT! And they traded Brady Quinn so they can draft Jimmy Clausen? Good God. Was Mike Holmgren raped in Cleveland a decade ago, and now using his job to exact revenge upon the city?

Tease alert:

Oooh, here comes the tease!

/takes off shirt, prepares for horse crop

Stay tuned, down a bit in the column, for a good nugget…

From Adam Schefter?

…about the first thing Rex Ryan said when he woke up from lap-band weight-loss surgery Saturday.

“Oh, oh! Ol’ Rex can finally get on top of the Mrs. again!”

It’s interesting how this story of the Eagles quarterbacks has stretched out. We all know it’s unlikely Philly opens the season with McNabb, Kolb and Michael Vick as the quarterback depth chart. If I’m laying odds, it’s 60-40 McNabb is under center for the Eagles on opening day. But that 40 percent (who knows — maybe it’s 30 or 35) means something.

It absolutely means something, in that it’s a complete arbitrary number that you pulled from out of your ass, and that you’ve already undermined that percentage by suggesting it may be an even lower arbitrary percentage. Does that 40 percent mean something? Well, it is a LEGIT 40 percent, although perhaps it’s an even MORE legit 30 or 35 percent. But it does mean something. What does it mean? Does it mean McNabb will be traded? Does it mean Kolb will be traded? Does it mean the faces on Mount Rushmore will soon begin talking, and issuing bizarre commands like, “Feed me rabbits”? I DON’T KNOW. There’s only a five percent chance of that, but that five percent means something, dammit.

The fact that there’s a real chance the Eagles could deal McNabb, and that McNabb is a half-year younger than Peyton Manning and apparently intends to play four or five more seasons, and also apparently has kicked the injury bug…

In the past six seasons, McNabb has played the full 16 games once.

…leads me to this question: What in the world are all these quarterback-needy teams doing? Why aren’t teams running to deal for McNabb?

Because Andy Reid probably overvalues him even more than some other teams do, and because he’ll want a big new contract, and because he still believes bounce passes are legal and that overtime is not?

The prime object of this game in the personnel area is to get a quarterback who can win games and lead your team, and a good, proven one is out there.

Whoa whoa whoa, let’s not go nuts by tossing around words like “proven.”

I asked a coach with a quarterback need about McNabb, and the coach said because McNabb is on the last year of his contract and would probably need to be re-signed, and the fact that Philadelphia would want a high draft choice for him in a very good draft, and the fact that he doesn’t have a lot of years left, all combine to make it a tough trade. Understood. Good factors all.

Understood completely. Makes perfect sense. In other news, I HAVE NO CLUE WHY TEAMS AREN’T PUSHING HARDER TO LAND DONOVAN MCNABB.

But McNabb is 33.

So he’s old, and has a longer injury history than many QB’s his age. Even better!

I have my own problems with McNabb.

He never answers my texts! He prefers Krispy over Dunkin’! He doesn’t have a Steeler persona!

I don’t see McNabb getting Philly over the hump and into another Super Bowl.

But he’s totally proven as someone who will never help you win a Super Bowl, and that has to mean something.

NFL teams have picked 30 quarterbacks in the first round since 1999. Of those 30, I’d say six (McNabb, Carson Palmer, Eli Manning, Philip Rivers, Ben Roethlisberger, Aaron Rodgers) have turned into top-flight starters.

Agreed, though Palmer has fallen off.

Six more (Chad Pennington, Jay Cutler, Joe Flacco, Matt Ryan, Vick, Daunte Culpepper) have been well worth the pick; Vick, remember, had the Falcons on strong playoff runs early in his career.

And then he was arrested, thrown in jail, got Jim Mora AND Dan Reeves fired, and forced Atlanta to start entirely from scratch once his career blew apart. But otherwise, totally worth the pick.

I’ve also heard what a great draft this is, and I respect teams determined to build through the draft. Long term, it’s clearly the best way to build your team right. The last time I heard so many raves about a draft beforehand was the 2004 crop, with the three good quarterbacks (Rivers, Manning, Roethlisberger) and rock-solid depth at several other positions.

…Six years later, six of the top 10 picks in a thought-to-be excellent draft are gone, with just traces of the impact they were supposed to have left on their teams.

But one of them was fucking MURDERED. It wasn’t like he planned on being a draft bust by having a gang of teenagers break into his house and shoot him in the thigh.

And so here Peter King intimates the following: The Draft can be, like, totally overrated. Just like free agency. Just like the combine. All means of measuring and acquiring football players? OVERRATED. Just look at that disgraceful 2004 draft. Everyone thinks it’s soooo awesome just because it produced three playoff QB’s. Well, that draft had some shitty players too! OVERRATED! Why aren’t these teams trading overrated draft picks for someone who’s proven he can nail receivers right in the shoelaces every throw? Let’s see Sam Bradford have that kinda accuracy!

I think one of the quarterbacks is going. Where, I don’t know. When, I don’t know.

Who, I don’t know. How, I don’t know. Where, I don’t know. But there’s a forty percent chance that I THINK Kolb or McNabb is going to go. Could it happen? Perhaps. Are Saturn’s rings made of Pizza Rolls? MAYBE.

Rex Ryan really wanted LaDainian Tomlinson.

“LT, your new nickname is OLD SULKER!”

Ryan was in on meetings with Tomlinson on Friday in New Jersey to try to persuade him to sign as a free-agent with the Jets.

“Think of the pussy!”

Then the Jets coach, who has always struggled with his weight, went to Manhattan on Saturday to have lap-band surgery on his stomach, and the first thing he did when he woke up from the surgery was ask: “Did we get LT signed yet?”…

“And when will I be able to piss without liftin’ the hood?”

…the answer was no, so when Ryan had rested and returned home late in the day Saturday, he called Tomlinson to put on one last sales pitch.

“I will buy you a fucking veal chop and introduce you to a woman who can pop a champagne bottle with her asshole TONIGHT if you sign on that dotted line, fella!”

The Raiders get a rusher. Maybe.

POSSIBLY.

Kamerion Wimbley, the Browns’ first-round pick in 2006, got off to a great start rushing the passer for Cleveland, with 11 sacks in 16 games as a rookie. In the 47 games since, Wimbley’s had 15.5 sacks and too often gets caught in traffic, unable to consistently turn the corner and get to the passer.

Is he a rusher? Maybe. Did the Raiders get good value by trading a third round pick for him? Could be. Is he just another overpaid piece of shit? I WOULD NOT RULE OUT SUCH A THING.

Factoid of the Week That May Interest Only Me

Vince Wilfork, the New England defensive tackle, and wife Bianca have a 7-month-old son named David Dream-Angel Wilfork.

IT’S NO BOSTON IZZO!

Enjoyable/Aggravating Travel Note of the Week

Not a travel note per se…

Just as this is not a football column, per se…

…but an observation about living in Boston that I wouldn’t have considered before moving here a year ago.

-They love their Dunkin here!
-I don’t need my car except for long trips!
-The signs to the Providence airport are misleading!
-Mooo has a fabulous steak! AND MY LEXUS GETS PARKED FOR FREE!

This is the only place I’ve been where, even with a big golf umbrella, you get wet when you walk for 20 minutes in the kind of Nor’easter we had over the weekend.

Why am I not shocked that Peter King is the kind of fellow who uses the mega golf umbrella?

It rains sideways.

Whoa! This is like Wonderland! You mean it’s rainy AND windy sometimes? People from Seattle would be fucking STUNNED by such a sight.

So if you position your umbrella to stop the rain from pelting you from the side, some of it’s going to hit you from overhead anyway. I’ve been around the kind of rain in the north of England, but this is the fourth or fifth storm with sideways rain in the year we’ve been here.

OW-AH RAIN IS MORE-AH INTENSE THAN YOUR-AH RAIN! VERTICAL RAIN IS FAR FACKIN’ GASHES!

This is loyalty, with a nod to being sure Vince Wilfork has at least three or four top seasons left: The Pats paid him an $18 million signing bonus.

Shame on you, for making that kind of money, Vince. SHAME ON YOU. Not a smart thing to make $18 million. Not today. Not in this economy!

I think I can’t wait to hear Mike Holmgren’s and Eric Mangini’s explanation for paying Jake Delhomme $7 million in 2010. I really can’t wait.

“I was raped in Cleveland a decade ago. Payback is a bitch.”

I think Delhomme is in the top five of NFL good guys I’ve ever met.

Good guy. LOFTY guy.

I once saw him stopped by students in the Student Center at Wofford College in Spartanburg, S.C., site of the Panthers training camp each summer, and give these kids 15 minutes of his time, asking them as much about them as they asked about him.

AND HE GAVE THEM HIS GLOVES!

I think the odds are 40 to 45 percent of overtime undergoing serious reform at the NFL meetings starting next Sunday.

And those odds mean SOMETHING. Though they may be closer to 35 percent. Or perhaps 7 percent. Still, that is a LEGIT seven percent.

If OT reform fails, a key part will be this: I think the coaches who are strident about keeping the system the way it is — and I talked to one the other day — don’t want to have another layer of decision-making added to their list. Coaches would have to decide, if they win the coin flip, whether to kick or receive. Under the plan being considered by the Competition Committee, the game continues to a second possession unless the first possession ends with a touchdown (either offensive or defense).

So you would take the ball every time. Unless you’re a fucking idiot.

I have it on good authority that the weather in Boston over the weekend was the same weather that sank the Edmund Fitzgerald.

LOOK AT OW-AH RAIN!

Good comeback by “The Office.” I think the show’s at its best in 22-minute episodes, not 44-.

And finally, just the right ratio of Nard Dog! Nard Dog is that show’s nutmeg!

Condolences to Keith Olbermann, my NBC football partner, on the loss of his dad Saturday after a lengthy illness. I could tell by Keith’s stirring references to his dad how much he meant to him.

BILL SIMMONS SAYS YOU’RE EVEN MORE ALONE NOW, KEITH.

Coffeenerdness: Quick review on the new Starbucks dark roast, Yukon Blend: Nice smoky full-flavored coffee, not quite with the bite of Italian Roast but a good midday coffee.

One sip, and I am hunting Elk in the Northwest Territories. Kind of a midday, snack break, after lunch coffee coffee. Not unlike my Butterscotch Triple Gooseberry Shakeiatto. AND TO HAVE IT BACK AT MY OLD UPPER MONTCLIAR ‘BUCKS! What a time we have there.

For those of you that enjoy filling out The Brackets this time of year, but (a) don’t work in an office, (b) don’t feel like giving ten bucks to that sweaty guy that’s running your office pool, or (c) find joy in out-picking random people on the internets, we present the UPROXX Pool Of Awesome.

Prizes for the top 3. Link is here. Password is “dukesucks44.”

St. Patrick’s Day. It’s not all green Natty Light and fake Irish brogues set to a never-ending soundtrack of “I’m Shipping Up To Boston.” There are good things too. Like Guinness. And Irish women. Oh, the Irish women. So seductive, so freckled, so magically delicious. We salute you.

Have a good weekend, and be sure to keep an eye out for Leprechauns if you happen to be in or around Mobile.

Several images via Gunaxin’s St. Patrick’s Day gallery.

Someone sent us these short clips that Tom Brady and Gisele filmed voicing support for Earth Hour, a pointless gesture in recognition of climate change designed only to piss off Punter. But man, those videos were so long-winded and preachy. So I decided to distill Brady’s message into a more concise, impactful plea. I don’t know, but I think it works.

St. Patrick’s Day is less than a week away. It remains, for many people, an invitation to get utterly shitfaced. But the day itself is not without its annoyances. Here’s what we would do if we had the power to make the best drinking weekday a little bit better for everyone.

The premise. You are the head of state in your own city or town, and you have the ability to pass and enforce ONE law that will be in effect for St. Patrick’s day ONLY.

The draft order. Matt. Jack. Josh. Mike. flub. Drew. Falco.

Off we go.

Matt:This is actually a lot harder than I thought. I want it to be easier for me to get drunk while limiting the drunken jackassery of other males.

1. MATT. Okay, I’ve got it: March 17th officially a holiday.

I work on St. Patrick’s Day like every fucking year because I don’t get personal days. On my watch, all businesses except for bars and restaurants will be closed. That’s all I want. I don’t care about mandating that chicks dress slutty or enforcing a day-long curfew for college kids and fat people: I just want the day off.

2. JACK. A ban on any shitty macrobrew dyed green.

Quit being a bitch and pick up a real Irish beer like Smithwicks or a decent American alternative. I could possibly be persuaded to make an exception for frat houses.

Josh: I wish Matt could have given us March 18th off. Sadly, the rules don’t provide that option.

3. JOSH. No green? No admittance.

You don’t own ANYTHING green? Go home and find something, because you won’t be drinking here. And I mean fucking GREEN. Not seafoam or teal or turquoise. Don’t decide to go out on amateur night and then act like you’re too cool to observe the dress code.

4. MIKE. Police ordered to fire on anyone heard saying Erin Go Bragh

Glad you learned one Gaelic phrase, the meaning of which you’re unclear on. Oh, and now you’re said it 30 times in the last hour. Please headbutt this bullet.

5. FLUB. No Guinness in a frosted glass.

Ought to be in the Constitution.

6. DREW. All open container laws lifted

Just, for once, let me drink in the fucking street.

7. FALCO.

St. Patrick’s Day is one of my favorite holidays, but it could be safer for motorists. Therefore, I would pass a one day law only law requiring mandatory DUI police roadblocks every half mile within city limits. Safe is fun, people.

ROUND 2.

8. FALCO.

Last year on St. Patrick’s Day night, Turner Classic Movies was showing Serpico! HELLO??? New law: Turner Classic Movies has to show Angela’s Ashes on St. Patty’s Day. Or The Commitments. Anything with Colm Meany is a hoot.

9. DREW. Federal funding used to give Shane McGowan proper set of teeth

10. FLUB. No. House. Of. Pain.

11. MIKE. Any McDonalds that doesn’t carry the Shamrock Shake is stripped of its business license

There are more that don’t than you’d like to think.

Jack: “I wanna open a McDonald’s and not participate in anything. I wanna be a stubborn McDonald’s owner. Cheeseburgers? Nope. We got spaghetti! And blankets!”

12. JOSH. Sex in the champagne room.

Once a year won’t hurt anyone. Probably. Maybe.

13. JACK. Fake Irish accents. They’re fucking annoying, so they’ve got to go.

14. MATT. Actually, I think “TITS OR GTFO” is a pretty good way to end the draft.

Agreed.

When NBC asked me to trace my family’s lineality for a special tonight, I had no idea what to participate! I had never studied my family’s geology before!

Well, it turns out that some of my aunt/sisters are white people! It’s true! White aunt/sisters! I could not believe that. All those germerations ago, there were white people in the Smith family! If you had told me two years ago that I was the decrescent of white people, I would have been FLABBERBATED!

Well, this discovery makes me see the world in a whole new might. Having white aunt/sisters changes my very indemnity. No longer am I Emmitt Smiff: Affercan/Amurrcan. I am just Emmitt Smiff: All Amurrcan. I am white. I am black. I am multiculternal. CITIZEN OF THE WHIRL. No longer am I just a member of this race or that race. I am ambervision. I AM BISEXUAL! A STACCATO! WHO KNEW?

I want to use this special as a way of showing people that they can use geology to discover new things about themselves and their magnificent others. Tonight’s NBC special redeclines, at least for me, the nations of what family is, and what are the real ties that grind us.

If I were myself, I would say to myself, “Emmitt, you’ve been given a gift with this discovery. No longer do you have to isobate yourself in one rhythmic group. You belong to all rhymicities now. Take this moment to reach out to all those around you. Be more tolerable. Don’t be prejujyfuit. Find more of yourself in those you always considered different and foreign. DON’T BE A XYLOPHONE.” That’s what I would say.

That goes out to all you people playing Call of Duty: Modern Warfare online.

(thanks to A.J.)

Wow. Big-time mailbag today, people. We’ve got some seriously inexperienced readers in need of equally serious help. With the exception of one guy who married a slut, pretty much everyone is at the “crawl” stage today.

But you know what? I wouldn’t have it any other way. Except for the guy who married a slut. I would’ve liked him to do better for himself.

Gentleman and Scholars,

I like how only one of us is a gentleman. Probably flubby. He’s from the South.

Sex: So, I asked a question here once before and got some good advice, so I’ve decided to come back to the well.

Woo-hoo! Repeat customer! THAT’S BRAND LOYALTY, BABY.

My birthday is coming up soon, and a group of friends and I are going barhopping. Among our group will be a girl that I’m particularly into. We hooked up before a while ago but nothing since then, but I feel like that’s less that she’s not interested than just no good opportunities. As someone without a whole lot of game, do you have any particular advice for how I can best make sure that I bring this girl home at the end of the night (and bang the shit out of her)?

Classy. I have two recommendations: be an attentive gentleman, and be less drunk than everyone else. These are rules I try to apply in almost every social situation I’m in, but I recognize that this is foreign territory for some, so I’ll explain.

First, the drinking. I don’t know how old you are, but college students and young adults often act like getting drunk is some kind of race, like there’s some award for Asshole Who Consumes the Most Booze. Getting drunk, like life, is a journey, not a destination. So, with that in mind, people will likely offer to buy you shots for your birthday. TURN THEM DOWN. Let them buy you a beer or a mixed drink, but NO SHOTS. Don’t let people call you a bitch. Lie. Tell them you had food poisoning the night before. Have one or two of your close friends stand up for you to take off any peer pressure. Pound a glass of water every other drink (but drink it quickly at the bar — you don’t want to carry it around while socializing).

Now, some people are going to call this lame, but by the end of the night, you’ll still be pleasantly drunk, while everyone else will be HAMMERED. You’ll have all the looseness and confidence booze gives you without stumbling around or being sloppy. In a room full of drunks, you’ll look like Don Draper.

Which brings us to being a gentleman. When your little Susie Rottencrotch comes in, greet her with affection. Touch her arm and maintain eye contact while you say “I’m so glad you made it; it’s really good to see you!” or somesuch. Be friendly and into her without being too flirty or lecherous. Be attentive; ask questions. Offer to buy her a drink. If you excuse yourself from her — and you should, because it’s your birthday and you want to see your other friends (and not look like a puppy following her around) — make sure she’s not standing by alone by herself. If you talk to another girl, glance in Susie’s direction: make sure she knows you’re thinking of her.

Now, there are other people who will insist that you need to play games — ignore her, flirt with others, etc. — and those can be decent tactics depending on the situation and the craziness of the girl in question. But you can never go wrong with giving honest body language and comporting yourself like a responsible adult male.

Football: I am your stereotypical Ravens fan (doesn’t live/never has lived in Baltimore, blames the refs for every loss, etc.), so just putting that out there. But I have to ask: any love for the fact that they put the definitive period on the Patriots dynasty? All I’ll say is that after the unspeakably horror they made the Pats fans sit through in the Wild Card game, it made losing to the Colts almost bearable, which says a lot.
-That’s So Raven

The enemy of my enemy is my friend, right? Sure, I think we can give the Ravens credit enough for that.

Frankly, I’ve never really minded the Ravens or the Patriots. Being good AFC teams, they often meet the Steelers, and there’s no hatred like my hatred for the Steelers. In fact, here are the five NFL teams I hate the most:

1. Steelers
2. Steelers
3. Colts
4. Steelers
5. Rams

While our resident hater Christmas Ape can channel his bottomless well of bile toward whomever’s convenient, I’ve got a finite supply of impassioned contempt. Despite the occasional flare-up, I’m a pretty calm person. I do yoga. I can’t even hate the Seahawks’ division rivals properly. That Cardinals Hater’s Guide I wrote? It took me DAYS to compile that much swearing about a team I don’t really mind all that much.

Hello, I got some pussy burn on my penis.

You what now?

Had it for about a month and then I keep re aggravating the injury by not waring a condom or when my girlfriend is jerking me off before sex. So just wondering whats the best way to cure it.
-Ramrod

Okay, I don’t care what Urban Dictionary says, there’s no such thing as “pussy burn.” It’s called “chafing,” and you get it from not using lube when you’re jacking off all the time. If you even have a girlfriend, you didn’t get your chafing injury from her vagina, because vaginas don’t chafe penises. They simply DON’T. It would be counterproductive to the propagation of our species if they did.

Anyway, the solution: Neosporin, and a couple days of rest for your poor abused dick.

Captain Caveman,
I’m a freshman at a large state university. There is no shortage of attractive girls. Sometimes some even talk to me. Here’s my problem: I have no idea what to do with any of them.

Have you tried this?

Probably not. It’s more of an advanced move.

In high school I guess you could say I was socially a nonparticipant. I spent most of my time getting 67,000 kills in Call of Duty,

HARF

developing an interest in late 19th century Russian literature and various other pursuits that ensured the preservation of my virginity. Somehow I managed to have 2 girlfriends, but both were horribly awkward affairs that lasted less than three months with no physical contact worth mentioning. Also, I didn’t really like either of them, and basically went out with them because they liked me.

What a favor you did them!

So with this complete lack of social experience, I’ve been talking to a girl in one of my classes for awhile. She’s pretty, seems to have similar interests

Combat simulation video games and 800-word books?

and at least seems to like me enough to talk to me everyday. I don’t need to tell you that if I plan on not being a virgin forever I should man up and ask her out. I plan on doing so, but the problem is I have no idea what the norm is in college. I remember reading something Drew wrote saying he was so stupid that he asked girls on formal dates in college.

That’s because Drew went to dipshit prep school, then tried his hand at a big university before returning to the inbred teat of expensive northeast private school education. Now, don’t get me wrong: Drew is an exemplary father, husband, and writer, and we could all benefit by emulating him in those regards. But you shouldn’t necessarily listen to him about collegiate dating — even if he’s telling you to NOT do what he did.

Well, then what the hell do you do? As a freshman with a soul, and therefore unwilling to join a frat, I have limited access to parties and don’t foresee any situation that I’d be able to invite her to one. I don’t ever see her outside that class, no mutual friends, etc. My friends all either have girlfriends from high school they’re still with or are just as clueless as me. (As it turns out, I have two friends.)

Who the fuck has only two friends at a large state school? Don’t you live in a dorm? STOP PLAYING FUCKING VIDEO GAMES AND INTERACT WITH PEOPLE.

I know I shouldn’t ask her to come eat in the commons with me, but was hoping I could get some tips so I’m not exposed for the bumbling social retard that I am. At least not before hanging out with her.

After class, ask her if she wants to get coffee. Or say that you’re having trouble with the material and see if she wants to study for the midterm together. FIN.

And since this is supposed to be a sex mailbag: are girls really expecting me to be shaved down there? With no real reason to do so, I haven’t touched that mess. If I got with a girl who was unkempt, it definitely wouldn’t stop me. Am I right in assuming girls would be touchier about this?

Hell if I know. I don’t know any freshman girls. Unfortunately.

That said, let’s take some baby steps, okay? Here’s the situation: you’re an awkward, socially inept video game-playing virgin who made two friends in his first semester of college. You need to join some clubs — College Republicans, Hillel, the gay-ass rowing team, ANYTHING. Get your ass out of your room or the library or wherever you’re not meeting people and start engaging in social activity of some sort. Befriend someone who goes to the gym, and start tagging along. The more you’re around campus and DOING things, the more you’ll see and engage with people, and the more comfortable you’ll be around girls, and the more you might even get invited to parties.

That’s Social Interaction 101. Consider that a precursor to enrolling in Pubic Grooming next semester.

Football: Do you really think Stewart Bradley is that good? Everyone blamed the Eagles LB troubles on the fact that he was hurt, but I just think of him as a slightly better Mark Simoneau. And not just because they’re both white.
-Awkward McDorkington

No, he’s not that good. If he was, I would have heard of him.

Internet,
Fantasy: I guess I’ll bite the bullet and finally hop on this whole fantasy football fad.

Pet rocks and slap bracelets were fads. Fantasy football is a fucking cultural touchstone, and I won’t have you speak ill of it.

I like to research things in some amount of detail before I dive in, so I guess starting now might be nice. Any good beginner articles you would recommend?

Yes: the KSK sex/fantasy football mailbag.

The only thing you really need to prepare for is the draft. Google shit like “top fantasy running backs 2010″ and poke around the results. Look at stats. Check out Yahoo’s Roto Arcade blog a little before draft time. Examine which rookies might have good value in their offensive scheme — over the last two years, I snagged Matt Forte and Percy Harvin (both rookies with huge impact) — in the fifth round or later. Seriously, it’s not that hard.

Sex: I get pretty severe whiskey dick, to the point where I typically have to decide between having sex or getting anything beyond a slight buzz in an evening.

Brutal. The Sophie’s Choice of pleasure.

Building up a tolerance didn’t change anything, nor did losing that tolerance. I’m not too heartbroken that I’m missing out on the magical world of sloppy drunk sex, but the lady enjoys spontaneous things and I enjoy both good microbrews and getting laid as much as possible. Any suggestions? Internet searches returned nothing but clown porn and phallic-shaped shot glasses. I’m good at Google.
-Me

She likes spontaneous? Grab her when she gets out of the shower and have sex before you go out. Then drink up! You’ve earned it.

Anything more advanced than that, talk to your urologist. Maybe you can get some of those dick-hardening pills I keep hearing about.

Dear KSK,
Sex: To preface this, I am drinking alone on a Friday night.

I’ve been there. As recently as last Friday night.

Ok, so this is kind of a complicated situation. I was dating a girl for three years in college. She was (as queer as it sounds) the woman of my dreams. We rarely fought, we communicated well, and our sex life was amazing. She was absolutely perfect for me in every single way. Now, I graduated last May, and for some reason my Communications degree didn’t immediately translate into a career (WHAAAA????) and I had to move back home onto my mother’s couch. This couch happens to be 1200 miles away from my girlfriend, who was a year younger than me and finishing her degree. We tried the long distance thing for a little while and it just wasn’t working, so we decided to take a break for several months. As the time has passed, it has become clearer and clearer that we will not end up together. We still talk very frequently, and having been the people that we each spent the most time with over the past three years, we have become (by default) best friends.

Guhhhhh. How long is this email going to be? Because if it’s more than 90 minutes, I’d rather watch The Notebook. At least that has Rachael MacAdams.

The more we talk, however, the more I see a willingness in her to move on. Now, I am still very much in love with her, and the thought of her being with somebody else would absolutely crush me. This would not be as big of a problem if she weren’t so adamant about remaining friends with me. I care for her very much, and aside from being with her, would love nothing more than for her to be as happy as possible in any situation regardless of my involvement. Having said that, I have to at some point keep my own feelings in consideration, and while I don’t want to break off all communication with her, I feel that it’s the only way that I can ever fully move on. I was wondering if there is any protocol for breaking off a relationship like this? Should I really care this much? Or should I suck it up, stop being a pussy,

ding ding ding

and continue to suffer through the bullshit until I find someone else? My biggest fear being that I won’t.

I can’t guarantee that you’ll ever find someone else if you break off contact with her. However, I CAN guarantee that you WON’T find someone else if you keep making it clear that you’re her little dickless puppy of a best friend.

Whatever you do, stop being a passive character in your own life. Sack up and tell her how you feel. If she’s open to being with you again, damn the finances and move the 1200 miles back there. Make it happen. And if she ain’t feeling it, tell her that you need to move on and break off contact.

It takes a long time to get over someone you love. Like, a LONG. FUCKING. TIME. It sucks, but booze, sex with other women, and the passage of time will heal you.

Football:
Okay, this question is mostly for Ufford. I’m a Patriots fan (from before the asshole days if that can be believed) and I was just wondering what exactly Seattle fans are expecting out of Pete Carroll. He has never been a good NFL coach. He really hasn’t had to evaluate talent in eleven years, having been basically handed the best recruits in the country on a consistent basis. As a “player’s coach” he’s pretty much going to be pushed around by guys that are making ten times his salary. Also, he’s underachieved at every level of football in which he has coached.

I’m pretty hesitant to support Carroll’s case as an NFL coach, but I think that statement is stretching it. Even with USC’s habit of dropping a conference game they should win every year, I don’t look at that program under Carroll as “underachieving.”

Granted, he could have success in a pathetic NFC West, but am I really the only one that sees him pulling a Bobby Petrino and cutting and running as soon as shit goes sour in fourteen months?
-Rich

Sure, it could happen. But if he’s as bad as you say (and I secretly fear) he is, that would be a good thing for the Seahawks. (Also, the metaphor you’re looking for is “Nick Saban,” not Bobby Petrino.)

Greetings ass pirates,
Football first, are the Vikings going to miss Chester Taylor at all, or will purple judas get his shit together next season?

I’m sure they’ll miss Taylor. I’m also sure they’ll find another third-down back.

As for Adrian Peterson, I don’t want to discount the intelligence of the average football fan, because every fan with an Internet connection is just soooooo much smarter than every TV analyst and member of the mainstream media, but let’s look at the possibility that we might be overvaluing one or two fumble-prone games because they were nationally televised playoff games. In fact, Peterson fumbled less in 2009 (7 fumbles, or 2.2% of his carries) than he did in 2008 (9 fumbles, or 2.5% of his carries). Now, does he have a fumbling problem relative to other running backs? Yes. Are Vikings fans bitching excessively about a flaw of a monstrously talented football player? Also yes.

As for sex, I am a virgin dating a much more experienced girl (just came out of a long ass relationship) Is it a given that I will embarrass myself during our first sexy time session, or have I been made paranoid by the misfortunes of other mailers? I guess I should mention that shes not big on drinking(either of us), so I won’t be able to blame my drunkness if something goes wrong.
-Precious Booty

Everyone’s first time is embarrassing in some way, shape, or form. It’s nothing to be worried about. Just be glad that your girl at least has some idea of what to do.

KSK Life Advisers,
Football first:
1) Ten team, two keeper league, whom do I keep? McNabb (PHI), Fitzgerald (ARI), Wells (ARI), Grant (GB), Harrison (CLE), Ochocinco (CIN), and Smith (CAR) are the candidates. I’ve pondered it, and do not feel really good about any of them based on last year’s performance and off-season team changes.

There are only ten teams in your league, and THOSE are your choices? Blech. Fitzgerald and… uhhh… either Grant or Harrison.

Sex (not really):
No sex involved, but affecting the love life on my end. My wife and her friends decided one night that they wanted to go out for karaoke. They planned on drinking, so they asked me to DD. Under these circumstances, I usually drop them off and hang elsewhere so they can have their girl time. However, the particular bar they wanted to visit was a gay bar, and the girls hurled accusatory homophobe remarks in my direction for 30 minutes on the way. At that point I felt that I had no choice but to join them. We arrived, I get the girls their drinks and we get a booth. There is a two hour waiting list to sing, and while the girls are waiting, they point out a couple of guys that have been moving around the bar speaking to all the females. I had a feeling that I knew what was going on, and confirmed minutes later when they get to our booth: they’re straight and were trying to kick game where there wasn’t much competition. I didn’t mind that they take a seat with us initially, since the wife’s friends are both single. Unfortunately, both guys were especially attentive toward my wife, even though they had been made aware that she is my wife. One of the guys asked one of the girls to dance, and the other asked my wife. Instead of bowing out gracefully (after two drinks, not enough to plead inebriation) SHE TOOK OFF HER WEDDING BAND AND ENGAGEMENT RING, HANDED THEM TO ME, and headed to the dance floor.

FUCK. THAT.

They returned from the dance floor in time to sing their songs, and we left. After dropping her friends off, we returned home, and the wife let me know she was in the mood; however, after 30 seconds of foreplay, she fell asleep. The next morning, just in case she doesn’t recall anything, I explained what happened, and her response was, “I’m sorry.” I think that’s what infuriates me the most, because if the roles were reversed, we would not be together, and I would be sending her most of my paycheck monthly. She just handled the whole thing a little too nonchalantly. After a couple of months, I still can’t get this ordeal out of my head, but I want to let it go. How do I put this behind me? I think this could qualify as a sex question because I’d really like to get back to sex with her instead of just hate-fucking.

Other pertinent information: I would have danced with the wife had she shown any interest, so there was no question of me simply refusing to have fun with her. Prior to the guys coming to our booth, all girls agreed that the guys were certainly douches. I’m not a pushover, and could have easily dropped both guys, but that tends to ruin evenings, and I rather enjoy my (assault charge-free) lifestyle aside from this incident.
Sorry for the lack of brevity,
-Karaoke Cuckold

How do you put it behind you? Shit, man. It sounds to me like you already tried to put it behind you — and I get the feeling you did it without ever explaining to your wife how hurt and pissed off her actions made you.

At about half the weddings I’ve ever attended, the pastor or rabbi or whoever says something to the effect of “Love isn’t about looking into each other’s eyes, but looking at the world in the same direction.” It’s hokey romantic stuff, but there’s truth to it: in order to live your life together, you need to be able to see things the same way. So, fucking TELL HER how hurt and pissed off her actions made you. You probably explained her actions and your feelings to the KSK readership better than you ever did to her.

Ideally, once you’ve communicated your feelings, she’ll recognize how fucked up it was and understand that she hurt you. Eventually, though, you’ll have to meet her somewhere in the middle: all the apologies and make-up sex in the world accomplish nothing if you can’t forgive her.

For everyone else: the lesson, as always, is don’t marry a slut.

Hey CC, one of your female readers here.

Yay! They exist!

Sex: First, a little background on me. I’m 28, and I’ve had sex with three guys in my lifetime. I’ve done the serious relationship, and the fuck buddy. Have tried out different positions and locations. I’d say at this point I’ve had plenty of good sex, and have managed to have great sex a few times, but never anything mind-blowing.

All I want these days is mind-blowing, toe-curling, passionate fucking. I want a guy who’ll say ’suck it, bitch’ (with conviction!) as I’m going down on him. Who’ll pull my hair when he bends me over the tailgate on my truck. I want the guy who will spank me and grab me so hard he leaves bruises. I want to have the threesome (another girl), and try anal. The only ‘love making’ I want to be doing is the morning after a wild night before.

Oh boy. You’re about to get a LOT of suitors in the comments.

Here’s the problem (I think this is the problem, although I’m sure you’ll let me know if something else is going on here): I only attract nice guys. The ‘please’ and ‘thank you’, touch me with kid gloves, take home to mom kind. Granted, there is nothing wrong with being treated well, but being taken out to dinner and given flowers doesn’t exactly get me wet. I’m sane (well, as sane as a woman can be), hold down a job, have no problem paying my bills, and lead a pretty pedestrian undramatic life. I guess I don’t really look the part of the vixen.

So how do I handle this? Should I slut up my look on a day-to-day basis and start running my errands in 4″ heels and a full face of makeup to try and attract a different type of guy (the asshole or douchebag)? Or stay with the jeans and t-shirt look but interact with the nice guys differently? I’m assuming your advice will probably be something like I should just tell the nice ones what I want, but having a guy tell me how badly he wants to fuck me after I’ve told him that’s what I want him to say takes all the fun out of it. And I know expecting a guy to know what I want without telling him is a bullshit woman trait, but I don’t care. Is it possible to have ridiculous sex in a normal, healthy relationship? Or do I just need to accept that the best sex will come via a fucked up, dramatic interaction with a total dickhead?
Thanks,
(Not so) Fat Hump

Wow, okay. A lot of material to work with here.

First things first: getting you laid properly. Anybody who’s worth his or her salt in the bedroom works off of social cues from his or her partner. And the cues don’t start when you enter the bedroom, they begin when you walk through the door and he sees you the first time. It’s not just about what you’re wearing — although 4-inch heels and a low-cut top send a different message than a hoodie and sneakers. It’s whether your hair is down or pulled back in a pony tail. It’s you pressing your chest against a guy’s arm when you lean in to listen to him in a crowded bar. Whether you discuss sex in a group of friends. How high up his leg you touch him when you ask him to come home with you. Et cetera and so on. Those are the clues that make a man think “THIS BITCH WANTS TO GET FUCKED” instead of “I think she likes me.” Eventually, you’ll find a guy who pulls your hair the first time you make out, and it’ll be ON.

And finally, a brief treatise on “nice guys” versus “assholes” and the state of masculinity in America. Here in New York City, I’ve found that making friends with other guys isn’t the easiest thing. There are plenty of smart dudes who are complete fucking pussies (your skinny-jean-wearing hipsters and tweedy bookish dorks), and there are lots of — how shall I say this? — Jets and Giants fans. The number of men who can display a basic level of intellectual dexterity while also be willing to defend a woman’s honor with his fists is alarmingly small.

So, for the male readers out there, consider (Not so) Fat Hump’s plight. Nerds, geeks, dorkbombers, and assorted shut-ins: do what you have to do to increase your credibility as a man. Generally, this means fewer books and video games, and more exercise and social interaction. Jocks and assholes: tone it down, Mr. Striped Shirt. Read some literature, watch independent cinema, and try buying a woman flowers. Perhaps one day we’ll all be decent human beings with good sex lives.

Nahhhhhhhhhh.