Everything you ever wanted to know about men, but were afraid to ask.

When about mensugary sweetness straddles a bar stool next to me, I often break the ice with, “How’s your love life?” Note that I’m careful to do some reconnaissance before deploying that line, and having it answered by an angry husband. People rarely admit to having a shitty relationship. It’s a flaw–a sign of poor decision-making skills. But I know better, so I pry further. Eventually, I get the answer I expect.

“I just don’t understand men.”

“Ah, well, I’m here to help. What would you like to know?”

“Can a man ever be loyal?”

“Which man?”

“Any man.”

“Certainly. Your question, though, is better expressed as, ‘Can a man remain loyal as long as I’m interested in him.'”

“No. Most guys can’t resist other women, even when all is fine with their current relationships.”

“Sure, we can. It all depends on how sexually exhausted you keep us.”

“Sex, sex, sex. Is that really all men think about all day?”



“Sometimes we think about sports, beer, cars, and food, but mostly sex in any combination therewith. Come on, admit it. You think about sex, too … and shopping.”

“Sure, but not all the time.”

“We can’t help it. If I see partial boob, I want to see the rest. If I see the entire boob, I want to touch it. If I touch a boob, I want to kiss it, and the one next to it. And, so on.”


“Sad? Really? Think about it. If you were to pop a boob out of that lovely top, and my reaction was, ‘Nice gland. Barkeep, may I have a Greyhound,’ you’d be devastated.”

“I wouldn’t do that.”

“Me neither.”

“What would you do?”

“A happy dance. I perfected it Christmas of sixty-six when I received my first Big Wheel.”

“What’s a Big Wheel?”

“That’s not important. Look, if a fit gentleman exposed a bit of his chiseled abdomen, you’d want to see more.”

“Yes, but not necessarily his penis … yet. And, if he did expose himself, I wouldn’t want to touch it … probably wouldn’t. I certainly wouldn’t want to kiss it. I mean, after we dated a while, maybe. But, not right away.”

“Ah, well you bring up an interesting topic. May I ask you a question about women?”

“I don’t think I got a straight answer from you about men, but go ahead.”

“How is a guy supposed to know what to do during a blow job?”


“I try to avoid controversial topics at the bar. No religion or politics from me. No, siree.”

“Fine. OK. How about, just sit back and enjoy it? What do you usually think about?”

“I’m glad you asked. First, I think, YAY! Then, I consider whether this blow job is intended as warmup–penis inflation, so to speak–or, am I supposed to ejaculate?”

“My god.”

“It’s a potentially hazardous situation, my dear. Not that my ejaculate is toxic. I mean, if she wants me to finish, but I don’t think she does, I’ll spend most of the time creating mental diversions. If she doesn’t want to finish, but I do, I’ll see the disappointment in her glazed face.”

“Lovely. So, next time, why don’t you ask?”

“Awkward, but I’ll try. See? Being a man is so difficult. If you’re on the receiving end of oral pleasure, you can come all you want. No need to distract yourself. You have it easy.”

“Aw, poor fella.”

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