Help Me Reach 12 on the Manly Scale of Absolute Gender

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Friday, April 11, 2008

Helmet Tips: Sex with the General

Dear General,

I'm having a problem with my thingy. It won't get up. Just lays there like a Hannity fan watching NASCAR on the tee vee. Ya gotta help me, General.

Limp in Logan, UT
It's absolutely normal for a little soldier to go AWOL for long periods of time. Heck, I'd even go so far as to say it's a good thing, something that should be applauded, much in the same way we applaud Our Leader's long absence from the Texas Air National Guard. It can't cause you any problems if it's absent.

Still, there are times when you want ol' Private Johnson to rise at reveille, and more often than not, it'll require you to take elaborate measures to get 'er done.

Forget about the pills. They don't work. OfJoshua had her doctor write me a prescription for Ambien awhile back. She said they're the strongest boner pills on the market, but all they did was knock me out. Worse yet, were the side affects. The pills did strange things to my pigmentation--when I finally awoke, it looked like someone had drawn a mustache on my face with a magic marker. Once, the pigmentation even arranged itself to look like someone had written the word, "limpy" on my forehead. It was embarrassing as hell.

I think setting the mood is the key and that starts with the choice of music. It has to be something that evokes feelings of passion and desire, something like my personal favorite, The Lonely Goatherd from the Sound of Music. There is just something about yodeling to a goat that knocks the knots right off the old alpenstaff.

Clothing is just as important. A lot of people mistakenly believe that men are sexually excited by the sight of women in lingerie. Nothing could be further from the truth. For a man, sex is a manly act, and it's very hard to feel manly if you're looking at tiny swatches of ultra-sheer fabric with dainty, little lace trimmings. I mean, good God, you'd have to be a transvestite to find that kind of thing exciting.

Ask your wife to wear something more masculine. Tell her to dress up like a cowboy, a soldier, a gladiator or something like that. I'm partial to fireman outfits, myself. Not only does it prompt Private Johnson to spring to attention like the bolt on an AR-15 assault rifle, it also comes in handy a few seconds later, when Ofjoshua vomits as I climax (It's weird God made women like that, but I'm sure there's a purpose). She appreciates all that rubber between her and the bile.

That should be enough information. Try it, and if you're still having problems after that, write me another letter, and I'll tell how to creatively use common household items like baling wire, duct tape, and a toaster to turn your linguine into a kielbasa.

Do you need sexual advice from the General? Send him your questions at, and watch for his answers on Fridays.

Who gets the tubesocks?

I adopted two of your suggestions for naming this column, so I'll have to award a second tubesock as well.

bobbywally gets the sock I call "Tuesday" for proposing "Helmet Tips," and

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We'll try dumping haloscan and see how it works.