Don't Hate the Players.

Dear Do Land Whatever,

This is a real question from a reader, but I don't want Cib or Zane to answer it, because I am trying to avoid uninformed claptrap in my life. I only want Joey to answer, because we share the same all-consuming passion for fastidious personal morality. The non-Joey guys are pretty obviously going to hell, due to all the sex they have with all those people. Who wants advice from the hell-bound?

I was wondering if you could write some kind of good analogy or parable type thing that could help me explain to my friends why they should stop harassing me about my lack of sexual experience?

Thanks,
A Real Person.

Dear Real,

First, I take issue with your description of my co-bloggers' writing. It is hardly uninformed.

Second, you and I both know that it's not up to us to decide who and who doesn't go to hell. Your quickness to judge is probably something you should examine. Perhaps you are jealous?

Third, depending on the reasons for your lack of experience, I don't think you should feel bad about it—which you obviously do—given that you let your "friends'" comments bother you.

Love,
Uncle Joe.

Dear "Uncle" Josef,

No, I am not "jealous." Are you not as appalled as I am at the behavior that just seems to be "expected" of men these days? I for one have never just had a "one night stand", how disgusting.

It's dirty, is what it is.

I mean, where do they even meet all these girls? And then you take her home, and then what? Like, do you just start having sex right then? I mean... How does that work, exactly? And what if you had some kind of injury, and she doesn't like you? That's why it's so dirty! Cause it's not you she wants to have sex with you for.

If I did that, I'd be no better than the moral fops you call your blogmates. And believe me, I have had the chance, tons of times.

I'll pray for your soul,
A Real Person.

My Dearest Mr. Person,

I have a lot of experience at peering into people's souls. "It's like you're peering," girls will say to me, "peering directly into my soul."

Men don't say that to me as much, but I think this is due to a fear of being labeled a homosexual.

It seems to me, Mr. Person, that you would really like to find a girl and do her, dirty-style. Maybe one with a pouty mouth, kinda bitchy looking?

Anyway, the foppiness or non-foppiness of this blog's moralities is our own business. You don't know the Do Land life. Have you seen us? We tower above other men, I don't mean just vertically. Men envy us. Women adore us. Our pheremones make flowers bloom from dead wood. We have no peace in our lives: For a long time we were successful at confining the surging tide of dampened females to a few specially designated zones, but they've been getting smarter. Even as I write this I can hear them tunneling under the south wall of the Do Land Citadel of Hump. We often have to lock ourselves in cages, just to get a few moments of peace for eating, bathing, sleeping and all the things you probably take for granted.

Do you have our same trials?

Speaking for myself, I often feel very weak in giving in to my carnal side, but I am constantly faced with supple, warm, moist temptation--ensnaring me with the delicate gossamer threads of lust, then wrapping me carefully in a cocoon of ecstacy. I mean, Mr. Person, you know what I'm talking about... Or do you?

A lesson I teach my sixth-grade Catholic class: "Never give yourself credit for NOT doing what you WANT to do because you CAN'T do it."

Or, more succinctly, "Don't hate."

I will pray for your soul,
Jo-Jo.


Dear Joey Asshead,

No it is I who will pray for your soul, you Papist jackass.

Rot in Hell,
A Real Person.