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Tell you what, Dan. If you do your job and answer some fucking questions, all of your readers promise to run out and buy your book and make it a bestseller. But if you keep boring us with the details of your boring book tour, none of us will buy your book! No more bullshit about your boring book tour. Do your job. Answer our questions.

—Finished Enduring Dan’s Useless Promotional Prose

Was the book tour stuff boring you, FEDUPP? Gee, I’m sorry. I certainly don’t want to bore people . . . so . . . I guess I’ll answer some of your questions this week. Which is kind of a bummer, actually, because I had some great book tour stories to share. For instance, I’m writing this column sitting at the bar in the lobby of Milwaukee’s Hotel Pfister (pronounced “fister,” i.e. just like the word used to describe someone who puts his arm up your ass). Being a homo, I naturally find staying at Hotel Pfister pretty hilarious. I could do an entire column about this place . . . but I wouldn’t want to bore you, FEDUPP.

Oh, and then there’s this book tour story: Three very nice young people (including one very good-looking guy) offered to get me high at a Harry W. Schwartz Bookshop in Milwaukee where I was doing a reading. Since I was on a book tour (far from my regular responsibilities), and since the book I’m touring to promote includes a long chapter defending the recreational use of marijuana, I told the nice young people that, sure, I would get high with them after the reading. They told me that they had to get high with me right away, since they weren’t sure they could stay until the end of the reading. They had class in the morning, they explained. “Oh,” I said, “are you guys are in college?” They laughed. “We’re sophomores,” said the cute boy. “High school sophomores.” That was the end of that. While I defend recreational drug use in my new book—have I mentioned that I have a new book out?—I didn’t think it would be wise to smoke pot with 15-year-olds. Heck, it might even be illegal.

Anyway, I was going to relate these and other fascinating book tour stories, but I don’t want to bore FEDUPP . . . so I’ll answer some questions instead. (I better see a big up-tick in my ranking on Amazon.com this week, FEDUPP.) While I couldn’t get high with high school students, I can answer a few of their questions.

I am sexually attracted to my English teacher and I think she’s attracted to me. She spends more time “helping” me than anyone in the class and she also likes to touch my shoulders, rub her leg against mine, and give me little massages. Today she asked me to help her with her filing. I know where this is going—or where I would like it to go: I want to kiss her feet, perform sexual favors for her and basically be her sex slave. I am 18 years old, so I am barely legal. What are your thoughts? Should I keep this in the realm of fantasy?

—Virgin Slave in Michigan

Even if you’re technically above the age of consent (which is 16 in Michigan), your teacher could get in big trouble if your relationship progresses past touching, rubbing, massages, and “filing.” Fucking your students is a career-ending offense these days (so is massaging your students), and God help the poor teacher who gets caught engaging in domination/submission games with a student (even if it was his idea). If your teacher makes you her sex slave and the two of you get caught, VSIM, you’ll be sent to a shrink and she’ll be sent to the electric chair.

My friends and I are always talking about sex and playing sexual games (spin the bottle and dumb shit like that). It’s frustrating because I don’t know what I am sexually. I am underage and too young to experiment and I wouldn’t feel comfortable experimenting anyway since I don’t know what I am. My mother keeps asking me if I’m a lesbian! I live in a liberal town with liberal parents, and so it wouldn’t be a problem if I was a lesbian but I’m not sure I am! I asked someone how to discover my true sexuality and this person told me to have sex because, “that’ll help you know.” ARRGHHH! That doesn’t help! I’m not ready! So my question is, do you know a safe surefire way to discover myself without having sex?

Baby Is Terribly Confused, Help!

You’re in luck, BITCH, because I do know a surefire way to discover yourself without having sex. Forgive me for rhyming (it sounds so cheesy and patronizing), but all you need to do is wait, date, and masturbate. If you don’t feel that you’re ready to have sex, wait. You can still date while you wait (liberal boys and liberal girls). Dating doesn’t obligate you to have sex with anyone before you decide you’re ready; if anyone you date tries to tell you otherwise, dump him/her immediately. While you wait and date, masturbate. Learn how to bring yourself to orgasm and pay strict attention to the mental images that flow through your head while you get yourself off. Trust me on this, BITCH: Your body will let you know who you are.

I am a mature teenage girl with a question for you. My brother was watching a porno site with one of his friends and claims he saw a video clip of a man sticking his entire head up a woman’s pussy! I say it’s impossible! The woman would die! My brother says that if a woman can give birth, she can get a man’s head up there. Set us straight, Dan!

—Can U Now Talk?

If your brother wants to win this argument, CUNT, all he has to do is take you to the porn site where he saw this video clip. If he can’t, well, then he’s clearly lying. As for your brother’s argument (if women can give birth, she can get a man’s head up there), anyone who’s taken a single high school health class should be able to see through it. Baby’s skulls are small and soft, CUNT, while full-grown men’s skulls are big and hard. Still, I’m reluctant to tell you that it’s impossible for a man to stuff his entire head into a woman’s pussy. There may actually be a video clip out there somewhere of a tiny man sticking his teensy head into a big woman’s huge vagina. (If someone out there has a video clip of this, please do not send it to me.) So let’s just file this sex act under unlikely-bordering-on-impossible.

Confidential to Ryan: On that first issue, go get a friggin’ HIV test already. As for that second issue, you’re right: Jenn sounds like the kind of girl who would be cool about her boyfriend being a cross-dresser. But there’s only one way to find out for sure: You’ll have to tell Jenn that you’ve been wearing her “missing” panties.

Dan Savage’s new book, Skipping Towards Gomorrah (Dutton), is on sale now. (More info at skippingtowardsgomorrah.com.) Send your Savage Love questions to mail@savagelove.net


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