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This week's Savage Love Letters of the Day: The cross-dressing sissy heterosuckual kinky man of her dreams turned out to be a jealous, insecure, slut-shaming bag of slop; she's been dating a sexy dude who likes to party and that's not a problem for her—the butt stuff, on the other hand, is a big problem for her; and this grad student and his feminist mom aren't speaking after she found and freaked out about his rather large sex toy. And, of course, this week's Savage Love and this week's Savage Lovecast.

First up...

The vast majority of the letters to which you reply are written by mooks who only need a few good slaps. Their problems are imaginary. Having a love life which is less than perfect is not a problem. It's normal. Stop believing that everything should work out the way you've imagined. Accept things that are less than ideal. You think you have a problem because your spouse, who you love, doesn't want to have sex quite as often as you do? Boo fucking hoo. Or your fuck buddy/FWB and you have had a good thing going for a couple of years, but now they're starting to catch feelings and love you too much? Cry me a river. Or you and your partner used to have an "amazing" sex life, but after ten years, things have fizzled slightly or gotten a little stale? Figure it out.

Real problems are the kind that no one writes to an advice columnist about, because they know perfectly well that their problem HAS no solution. You want a problem? Try being rejected literally every single time you've tried to get something going with someone. Or being physically repellent, no matter how you try to improve yourself. Or being completely unable to spark the interest of literally anyone, at all, ever. You want a problem? Look down the road twenty or thirty or forty years and know for a fact that no one is ever going to love you or touch you, and then you're going to die. Most people don't know what a real problem is. They're just whiny bitches who need to be smacked around until they can see how good their love lives actually are. Try dying alone, unloved, and untouched after decades of misery. Then come talk to me about your "problems." Fucking crybabies.

As I wrote here...

I've been asked what biases advice columnists have. Do we favor questions from women? (No, women are just likelier to ask for advice.) Are we more sympathetic to women? (Most advice columnists are women, so...) Are we likelier to respond to a question that opens with a compliment? (Of course.) But the solvable problem is our biggest bias. Some people write in with problems that they'll need an exorcist, a special prosecutor, a time machine, or some combo of all three to solve. I could fill the column week after week with unsolvable problems, and my answers would all be variations on ¯\_()_/¯.

Most people with unsolvable problems usually know they're unsolvable—or that they can't be solved by an advice columnist who doesn't have access to a time machine—and they're less likely than those with solvable problems to ask for advice. Couple that with an advice columnist's understandable preference for solvable problems and people mooks with solvable problems will wind up being overrepresented in this and other advice columns. And, yeah, I can see how that would be a torment to readers with unsolvable problems. But if reading the column is a torment to you... well, that problem is easily solved. Just stop reading the column.

It's a floor wax/plunger and a dessert topping/insertable...

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Years ago, when I read your response to the boy who had been using a plunger for not-so-secret anal play, I thought how incredibly uncomfortable a dry wooden plunger would be. And of course, dangerous, as you'd also noted. Then I saw this at Ladies Night at my local hardware store. The tag says it was manufactured exclusively for this store. I have never seen anything like it... well, at least not in the hardware store. Couldn't resist sending you a picture in case you hadn't, either.

Hardware stores have ladies nights? (And for those of you who were confused by my 40-year-old pop culture reference...)

Regarding the caller who was upset about seeing less a friend who just started dating someone...

Turns out scar gazing isn't a great way to verify a vasectomy...


Lies, damn lies, and statistical probabilities...

I (very) slightly agree with STTA. Given the billions of women on this planet, it is virtually certain that there exists a woman (and I don't blindly mean "person with XX chromosomes," I mean a person who is gender binary female) whom you would be hugely attracted to. This doesn't mean that this woman would "make you straight," any more than meeting a guy who surprisingly "does it for me" would make me gay, this would simply mean that giving all of the facets of a person that trigger attraction, there probably will be a rare human who spins your socks while apparently having unexpected plumbing. I'm offended by STTA's implication that you would be better off searching for this person, better off if you found this person, better off if this hypothetical female person that spins your socks isn't even human, etc., as you seems to be doing just fine in your current situation (far better than I've done in my white cis het marriage). Perhaps the letter writer needs to meet someone of the same 'sex' that spins his socks. The perfect guy for him is certainly out there as well.

The advantages of doggy-style...

About the woman who felt objectified when her partner wanted to have sex doggy-style: A gal-positive advantage of that position is being able to get a vibrator or finger on the vulva/clit while the guy and his equipment aren't blocking access. Cowgirl and spooning positions are great for this too, maybe even better, but it does work for doggy-style.

Regarding ASSCAFE...



Two readers wax lexiconic...

After your wonderful work with Santorum, I'd like to ask you to consider a further public service, regarding our current Vice President. My girlfriend and I discovered the need for a name for a certain substance that results from good ol' PinV sex. Since Mr. Pence is an avowed, even proud, heterosexual, we thought it might be nice to honor him by naming the mix of cum and pussy juice that coats a dick after sex "pence", as in "I was too exhausted after fucking to get up and clean myself, and the pence dried into a crust on my dick." What do you think? I believe Mr. Pence is highly worthy of this honor, and it would really help all the straights out to have a word to describe this common phenomenon.

Forgive me if this is old news. I've been away for a while and missed your columns, so perhaps you've already added to our vocabulary a word associated with your beloved president. But as you've enriched the lexicon with "santorum," "pegging," etc., a worthy addition would be to resurrect (or import across the pond) a slightly archaic but nonetheless perfectly legitimate noun and verb: to trump (i.e. to fart), or a trump (i.e. a fart). Usage: "He let out the most tremendous trump;" "Did you just trump?" I'm not making his up: "trump" is defined in the OED as "to break wind, audibly." So it wouldn't apply to the old "silent but deadly." Your beloved president is often deadly, but seldom silent.

It would be nice to see "pence" happen. As for "trump," well, I tried. So like fetch (a slightly less ancient pop-culture reference), it looks like "trump" isn't going to happen.


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