a hypothetical for you: You’ve been corresponding with a handsome
young man who lives in Paris. You know him through a friend
in France, and your friend has vetted him. He has offered
to pay more than half of your airfare so that you can visit
him in Paris. You’ve spoken to him on the phone, and hearing
him speak to you in French makes your knees weak.
On the one hand, you can’t really afford it—and although he’s
agreed to help you pay, you feel guilty for accepting his
help. You’re also not working, and once you get a job you
won’t be able to go. You live with your parents, and you don’t
know how you’d explain taking a trip when you’re not working
and technically broke. But if your parents disappeared into
thin air, you wouldn’t hesitate to go. The trip also might
turn out to be a crushing disappointment and a huge mistake.
On the other hand, you might be passing up the romantic adventure
of a lifetime. And he’s just . . . so . . . pretty.
Do you go?
I am attaching his photo so you can see why I’m considering
this. I trust you will not publish it?
You can trust me not to publish the picture, ASG, but anyone
who wants an idea of what this boy looks like is invited to
quickly Google “Gaspard Ulliel,” turn those blue eyes brown,
take a moment to masturbate, and then come back and finish
reading this week’s column.
OK, ASG, hypothetically . . . I go.
I lie to my parents. I tell them a friend—someone they know,
someone who’ll lie for me—lent me the money and I’m going
to go spend a few days in France with my friend (the same
one who vetted this boy) before I land a job.
But . . .
I wouldn’t be going at all if a friend hadn’t vetted this
guy. And I wouldn’t go if I didn’t have somewhere to stay
besides this boy’s place. And I would treat our first meeting
like any first meeting with a stranger I’d met online: That
first meeting would be in a public place; I would let someone
know where I was going and who I was with; and it wouldn’t
be an open-ended date, i.e., I would see him for lunch and
have ironclad plans to hang out with other friends later that
I would also go to France with my bullshit detector fully
charged. This guy is damn good-looking, for sure, but it’s
not like there’s a shortage of good-looking French girls.
So why is he pining away for an American girl he might never
meet—I’m a girl in this hypothetical, right?—with so much
French pussy at his disposal? Maybe he’s so smitten with me
that French pussy won’t do . . . or . . . maybe he’s
a socially maladapted leotard who can’t get laid despite his
looks. I would be tempted to conclude that it’s the former,
of course, but I would remind myself not to overestimate my
awesomeness and to be on the lookout for signs of social leotardation
once I met the dude.
And finally, ASG, if I went to France and didn’t hit it off
with this boy, I would thank my lucky stars that my Internet
crush lived in Paris, France, and not Paris, Texas, and enjoy
the trip—and any other French boys—regardless.
I’m a 28-year-old heterosexual male with a politics
question and a sex question. I’ve seen you on television talking
about the shitty job President Obama has done on gay rights
so far. My question is this: Obama said he was against gay
marriage during the campaign. How could you support a candidate
who sees your love as worth less than heterosexual love? I’m
surprised that you were such an ardent supporter of someone
who doesn’t believe that gay and lesbian couples deserve to
marry. If I were gay, I’d automatically dismiss any candidate
who didn’t support full equality for gay people. Hell, I’m
straight and I’m pretty close to doing that.
Also: I recently slept with a women who squirted when she
came. She demanded that I pull out when she began to come.
Is there some reason women who squirt don’t want a dick inside
them when they do? Curious if you had any insight on this.
Love the column,
Equality And Chicks Ejaculating
Here’s a pic. Thought it might persuade you to answer my questions.
Feel free to share it with your readers.
Thanks for allowing me to share that picture of your ass with
my readers, PEACE, because if any backside deserves a worldwide
audience, it’s yours. To see the photo, dear readers, go to
Now . . .
During the Democratic primary, I was fond of saying that I
was “for Clinton or Obama or both.” So I wouldn’t describe
myself as an ardent Obama supporter. But I was pretty in the
tank by the time of the election. And like most gays and lesbians,
I’ve been severely disappointed by President Obama’s refusal
to move on the promises that candidate Obama made to the gay
and lesbian community. I was willing to be patient, though—until
the Obama administration compared gay marriage to incest and
child rape when arguing for the constitutionality of the Defense
of Marriage Act. That’s when I blew my big gay stack.
But that doesn’t answer your question: Why would I support
a candidate who views my love for my partner as somehow inferior
to his love for his wife? Because I’m not an idiot. Because
I’m not a single-issue voter and Obama was better on other
issues—on gay issues and every other issue—than his Republican
opponent. Because politics is about the art of the possible
and, I’m sorry, Dennis Kucinich just wasn’t possible.
As for the squirtin’ ladies: I talked to three, and all three
said that the contractions they experience as they ejaculate
are so intense—and so “outward directed” in the words of one—that
they want everything out at once: their come and anything
else that should happen to be in ’em when they blow their
loads. Added one of my friends: “He had a squirter right there
in front of him—why didn’t he ask her? She has some insight
on it, no doubt.”
Anniversary: The police in Fort Worth, Texas, marked the
40th anniversary of the Stonewall rebellion—three nights of
rioting sparked by a “routine” police raid on a gay bar in
New York City—by raiding a gay bar called the Rainbow Lounge.
One of the men arrested, Chad Gibson, was so brutally assaulted
by the police that, as of this writing, he remains hospitalized
with a life-threatening brain injury.
Police Chief Jeff Halstead claims that the men at the Rainbow
Lounge made lewd advances toward his officers and specifically
accused Gibson, a slight 26-year-old, of groping one of his
cops. This preposterous claim is contradicted by eyewitness
accounts and photographic evidence.
We can’t let the police in Fort Worth use the Gay Panic Defense
(“That fag touched me, so of course I beat him nearly to death!”)
to excuse this brutal violation of the civil rights of Fort
Worth’s gay community. If you’re on Facebook, please show
your support by joining the Rainbow Lounge Raid group (tinyurl.com/lavecu).
And please e-mail or call the mayor of Fort Worth—Mike Moncrief,
(817) 392-6118, mike.mon email@example.com—and demand
a full investigation into the raid on the Rainbow Lounge and
that charges be brought against the officers who assaulted
a new Savage Love podcast every Tuesday at www.thestranger.com/savage.