HTTP/1.1 404 Object Not Found Server: Microsoft-IIS/5.0 Date: Tue, 02 Jun 2009 13:42:51 GMT Cluster-Server: WEB1 P3P: CP="NOI ADMa OUR STP" X-Powered-By: ASP.NET Connection: close Content-Type: text/html

404 Object Not Found

Dear
Mynx

HTTP/1.1 404 Object Not Found Server: Microsoft-IIS/5.0 Date: Tue, 02 Jun 2009 13:42:51 GMT Cluster-Server: WEB1 P3P: CP="NOI ADMa OUR STP" X-Powered-By: ASP.NET Connection: close Content-Type: text/html

404 Object Not Found

 Buy Games

News
 Current / Submit
 Archive / Search
 POTD / Submit

Files
 Main Files

Community
 Hosted Sites
 Forums
 Chat
 Help Wanted
 Mailing Lists
 Get Hosted!
 Contact Us
 Advertise With Us
 Staff

Features
 Index
 Articles
 Mod of the Week
 Levels of the Week
 Model of the Week
 QuakeScopes
 QuakeCon 2005
 Dear Mynx
 PQ Poll
 Mailbag
 Rants N'Raves
 Tech Tips
 Week in Review
 Classic PQ


HTTP/1.1 404 Object Not Found Server: Microsoft-IIS/5.0 Date: Tue, 02 Jun 2009 13:42:51 GMT Cluster-Server: WEB1 P3P: CP="NOI ADMa OUR STP" X-Powered-By: ASP.NET Connection: close Content-Type: text/html

404 Object Not Found


    PlanetQuake | Features | Dear Mynx | Puffers!
   

THIS WEEK: Geeks with two foot long girl hair, the burning question: do girls poop? Smoking while you frag frag frag, great big gigantic testicles of power, plucking horny hair while thinking about Quake, and an Embarrassment Spotlight that illustrates the motto, always be prepared. Really super prepared. Oh, and after you read this, go enter my drawing, you freaks.

  Big Hairy Geeks
Im a guy (kid) with long hair. I'm talkin' 2 feet long. There are 4 people at my school with long hair, and they look ok (with the exception of one). The problem is that I have been given some girl's hair by some bizarre accident. I'm sure that some 16 year old girl is out there with short spiky hair wondering what happened. This isn't a management problem... whatever I do with it makes me look like a girl. I definitely want it cut before school starts, but I don't know where to start! I don't know what hairstyle I want, I don't know where to get it cut at (my mom suggested her stylist, ugh). I want to get it much easier to handle, and keep sort of a gothic look, while still looking like a computer nerd (can't change that, might as well work with it). Help! I am a guy trapped with unbelievable feminine hair!!! What do I do?  

          -Cousin Itt

Shave it all off.  No, really.  A bald head is in style these days, and it might work for you.  If you have well balanced features and a somewhat streamlined body shape, shaving your head might end up as a good look... on the other hand, it does accentuate features like noses and ears, so be wary of that.  Why not just slick it all straight back into a ponytail?  Mental4's hair is as long as mine (and curly, to boot) and he does the ponytail thing these days.  If all else fails you can go for the Metallica look - close cropped on the sides and around the back, a bit longer on top, and spike it up a bit.  You can even have the tips bleached for fun and amusement.  Or, hey, keep the long hair and work it into dredlocks.  Experiment with it before you hack it all off.

  Poop
My girlfriend told me that girls never poop.  Is that true?  I know girls have to poop.  I just want to prove her wrong.  All the girls that are her friends keep telling me they never poop.  Why can't girls just admit that they poop.  Everyone poops.  Dogs poop.  Cats poop.  Babies poop.  Hell I poop.  

          -Doodie

We don't like to talk about it.  I was raised in an environment where bodily functions don't exist.  For example, just the simple act of me writing: "My mom poops, often times once a day!"  ...which is true and perfectly normal, would just send her over the edge!  She'd crawl under her bed and refuse to peek out for a week.  But, yes, in fact girls do poop.  We poop just like you do, except we probably don't take as long to do it.  I know guys that ride the white ring for two hours sometimes trying to drop that dooder out.  Pinch it off, wipe, and get the hell on with your life, I say!  I don't know about you, but I don't have two hours every day to spend in the bathroom.  I've got better things to do.

  Hands-free Smoking
mynx, since you are god of advice columnists, (screw Dear Abby) please tell me where I can find a device or something that will allow me to smoke cigarettes while at the same time fragging. I always hafta pick up my cigarette and in the few seconds it takes me to pull some smoke out, somebody turns a corner and frags my ass. Or maybe you should get Lowtax to invent something to help smokers/fraggers.  

          -Puff

Why do you think God gave you lips?   Er... well, really... do the James Dean thing and hold that nasty ass butt in your lips while you play.  If you can't stand that, then you'll just have to settle for having a drag when you get killed.  Die, drag, play, die, drag, etc.  But you know what?  Smoking is really super stinky.  So you should stop.  In the event that you don't stop, yes, Lowtax holds the patent on a hands free mouthing device... but as I've said before, it's not my place to talk about the things in Lowtax's pants, so I'll just defer to him.

  He's Got The Biggest Balls of Them All!
I have recently begun reading your comlumn, and have found that you are rather knowledgeable about, uh...things.  I am 15 years old, and am embarrassed about the size of my package.  Well, Captain Winky is just fine in size. He's average.  But I am worried about his shipmates.  You see, they are very large compared to my walking stick.  I have even seen a doctor about them, and he could not find anything wrong, but said that they were, indeed, larger than average.  So here is my question to you: is having particularly large gonads a Bad Thing?  Am i worried over nothing.  

          -Ballzer

Since a doctor has already pronounced you normal, you are quite probably fine.  It's a good thing you went, because I've learned that enlarged clangers can be a sign of testicular cancer.  However, it's probably just genetics.  I wonder if your dad has giant nads?  Maybe your grandad packs a couple of puffers in there, too.  Ask 'em, they might show you.  Now, assuming you're all healthy and stuff, large gonads aren't really a Bad Thing(tm)... the only drawback is that in relation to an otherwise normal milksnake, they can make the it seem smaller than it actually is, just by contrast.  But, fear not.  You are young, yet, and you probably still have some growing to do.  In any case, you'll probably develop a thick pelt on those suckers that helps to conceal the size a bit.

  Quake.. Oh... Quake... Unf Unf
I got this major problem with Quake. I just can't stop thinking of it.  I even think of it when I masturbate. And it's not as if I *want* to think of Quake like that all the time. There I am shaking my salami imagining my dream gal, and while in the same activities my mind slowly gets to fragging and rocket jamping. I'm an average Quake player and (as you may be thinking also) it's normal to think frequently about Quake. But it's not like that.  There are times when I  feel my brain tired. Sometimes I even lose sleep.  

          -Lush

The more you worry about this, the worse it will get.  Seriously.  The more you try NOT to think about Quake, the more you will begin fantasizing about Steed's models (it's okay, we all do it) or Carmack's "code".  If you manage to focus on just one single person/place/thing while you paddle the pickle, well, I applaud you.  I don't have an attention span like that at all.  If you find yourself all atwitter over your favorite imaginary friend and then suddenly you're fantasizing about her with a rocker launcher... go with it.  I personally find no problem with Quake living harmoniously with every facet of life.  The Zen Quake.  Om.

  Embarrassment Spotlight
A Boy Scout's motto: Be Prepared.  Prepared he was, this rubbery young lad.  Thanks to Ted Bennett for sharing his trauma:  Bobbing for Latex, a Love Story.

My very first week of college (at Louisiana State University, one of the party capitals of the world), I joined a fraternity. The first party they held was the second week of school. Having been a veteran of all-male Catholic schools prior to this, I wasn't really sure what to expect. As it turned out, I met a lovely girl and hit it off quite well with her. Towards the end of the night, she convinced me to "go upstairs" with her (one of the guys was a friend of hers, and he agreed to lend her the use of his room). We get up to the room, things commence to get hot and heavy, and I'm thinking, "WOW! College is GREAT!" I'd been quite a bit sheltered 'til now, and this was all new to me. At one point the lovely lass stopped and inquired, "Do you have a ....?" while raising her eyebrows. "A ....what?" I responded innocently, truly not knowing what she meant. She replied, "A condom, silly." I instantly turned beet-red and said, "Uhhhh...no. I guess I wasn't expecting anything like this to happen." She laughed sweetly, sensing my discomfort, and said, "Well, that's OK. We aren't go to go any further, though, you understand." I agreed quickly, surprised as I was by the turn of events. We wound up talking a lot, and it was a good time, all in all.

The next morning, when the frat brothers were relating war stories of who'd done what (or whom) the night before, I related what happened to me. The guys were _aghast_. Most were furious. "You missed out on a sure thing 'cause you weren't prepared? DUMBASS!!! Man, you need to go talk to Steven." As it turned out, Steven worked at a local pharmacy, and one of the perks of his job was that he had crates of stuff in his room - Tylenol, Pepto, Alka-Seltzer,...condoms. He brought me to his room and commanded me to take some from the box. Sheltered as I was, I reached in and took hold of one with trembling fingers - it was the first time I'd ever even touched one. Steven grinned and said, "No, take more!" He proceeded to give me two HUGE handfuls of condoms, about sixty in each hand, which I stuffed in the pockets of my shorts. "Now you're ready, young pledge," he gloated.

Later that day, an old buddy from high school called me. He was in town visiting a girl he'd met at LSU, and he wanted to know if we could get together and hang out. "Besides," he said, "she's got a real cute roommate, maybe y'all could hit it off." So later, I meet up with Brian, we head over to his girlfriend's house, I meet the roommate and do sort of hit it off with her. We all go out and proceed to get a bit tipsy at a local watering hole. The night ends with us all retiring to the girls' apartment complex, where lo and behold, they have a hot tub. Drunk and stupid, we all hop in. Things are going awfully well (and I'm thinking again, "DAMN, but college is great!"), Rachel is sitting on my lap, while Amy is on Brian's, when all of a sudden I hear a _piercing_ scream. I look over Rachel's shoulder to see Amy looking at the surface of the water, one hand pointing at it, the other covering her mouth in horror. I looked down at what she was pointing at. Even though I was sitting in a 108 degree hot tub, I felt a cold chill run through me. 

"OhdearGodnononoNONONO."

There, bobbing happily on the surface of the water, were over a hundred-odd condoms. I'd forgotten to take them out of my pockets when Steven had given them to me. Rachel, who was rather intoxicated, couldn't really make out what it was she was seeing. However, Amy grabbed her hand and said, "C'mon, Rachel, we've got to go upstairs, NOW." The girls jumped out, Amy gave me a terribly dirty look, and they went upstairs, presumably locking the door against the perv sitting downstairs. Meanwhile, Brian sat there stunned, not knowing what to make of what had just happened. He looked at the condoms, he looked at me, then he looked at the condoms again. Finally he said in a tone of amazement, "Geez, Ted, do you think you brought ENOUGH?!!" He climbed out of the hot tub, towelled off, and prepared to go make peace with his girlfriend. As a parting shot, he said, "Dude, I know you didn't get out much when we were in high school, but don't you think that this was just a _little_ excessive?" Postscript - neither Rachel nor Amy ever talked to me again.


[Main Page] [Features] [Files] [Forums] [Contact] [Hosting Info]
© 1999-2001 by Jennifer K. Bailey. All Rights Reserved. Do not mirror, copy or redistribute without express permission.