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Dear
Mynx

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    PlanetQuake | Features | Dear Mynx | Peehole!
   

THIS WEEK: Another really hairy dude, some random llama getting chubbies for Duke, sticks and stones breaking peeholes, sex roleplaying with Carmack and sCary, the current Steed fad, and an Embarrasment Spotlight by yours truly.  This one transcends embarrassment and creeps into traumatic stress syndrome.  Enjoy it, it about killed me.   Oh, and after you read this, go enter my drawing, cuz it ends today.

  If You Think I'm Hairy, And You Want Mah Body...
I really really like to look at myself in the mirror.  I have more than average body hair - a thick crop on my back, my shoulders, chest, arms, butt, you name it.  Pretty much apelike, but I think it looks really good.  I find myself really attractive - not that I'm gay for myself or anything but I just think it's very masculine and sexy.  Lately I'm hearing a lot about how this is not so great, and it's beginning to affect my self esteem.  So what's the final word, Mynx?  I'm willing to wax by your word.  

          -Hairball

Heh.  You'd think people would know better than to give me control over their hair.  If it were up to me I'd have you wax your ass in the shape of a peace sign, using your buttcrack as the center line.  I gotta tell you, though, that if you're wearing a pelt and you're comfortable, nay, happy about that, then I really don't see a problem here at all.  Look at Ron Jeremy.  Dude is hairier than bigfoot, and he's a porn star.  Hey, I'm all for self acceptance.  Two snaps for a healthy self-image! *snap* *snap*

  Dukey-pukey
Yes, I seem to have a problem.  I've seem to have been playing Duke Nukem 3d.. and, Well, I think he's hot. It just gives me the BIGGEST of all boners when I see him. I mean "KICK ASS AND CHEW BUBBLE GUM" , wow!! I also love the shrinker ray. It rocks. Quake is dumb cause you can't duck. But still, I think there should be a Quake2 mod, it should be "YUO SUC AND WE SHRINK YUO AND YUO GOT SUOED"
Yes, Really. I think Duke Nukem is hot. (So is the Strippers).
 

          -Dookie

EEK HELP.  This question almost pushes past my threshold... you might be too far gone even for me.  Duke Nukem?  Seriously?  I mean, I can see the Doom Marine.  The Quake grunt even.  But Duke?  Gross.  There isn't much hope for you, frankly.  The only remedy I can think of involves a tub of crisco, a roll of quarters, and a copy of no frills, original, handflutin Quake 1.  Hole up in your room and play.  Don't get up unless you soil yourself.  Play until your eyes cross and your testicles hurt.  Play until you can't possibly stay up any longer.  The glorious Quake will save you, but you have to want to be saved.  Oh, and stop smoking crack.

  Don't Poke the Peehole!
I am really turned on by the idea of putting something in my peehole.  It just seems, I dunno, like it would be fun to have a little guy poking out of it or something.  I'm writing to find out if it's okay to do this.  Do you think I could hurt myself by putting something in my peehole?  What do you think?  

          -Peeper

I will confess that I have seen photographs of (now don't go getting any ideas here) a lit match, and even a happy little American flag shoved into a peehole.  But you know, I really can't understand the attraction here.  Shoving anything up your wookie's nose is going to hurt like scathing hell, and that's never a good idea.  So my opinion here is going to be: just say no to foreign implements in your urethra.  Put that on a bumper sticker, Nancy Regan.  If you refuse to heed me, well, at least heed this:  Please, pretty please, don't stick any sharp objects in there.  No toothpicks, hot pokers, ballpoint pens, whatever.  New sexual adventures won't seem very much fun when you've punctured and/or torn your urethra.  You'll really know fun when you have to pee while that sucker heals.  So just don't.  Now, I'm sure me saying this is going to prompt a flood of letters from those of you who enjoy ramming twigs or corncobs or green candles or whatever into your urethras, telling me how great it is.  You know what?  Don't.  I don't wanna know.

  Consenting Adults Play Carmack!
I find it really enjoyable to role play during sex with my wife.  A coulple of my favorites are playing "John Carmack and Steedchick" and "sCary and Britney Spears".  Lately though she's told me (my wife, not Britney Spears) that she thinks there may be something wrong with me/us for doing this, and that we should think about stopping.  I gotta admit, though, hearing her scream "CODE ME, CARMACK, CODE ME!" in the heat of passion really DOES it for me.  

          -Geeksex

I don't find anything wrong here.  Well, other than the Britney Spears part, talk about twisted.  But, like, what's the harm in a little nookie fun between consenting adults?  It's not like you're capturing junior high girls and forcing them to play Carmack with you, this is your wife, and as long as she's enjoying it as much as you are, what's the harm?  If pretending you're John Carmack is what you need to fluff your muskrat (and who doesn't?) then by all means, go right ahead.  Only, you may not want to tell him about this.  I think we'll all sleep better at night if we don't have to worry about Carmack developing a sudden computer-geek-sexual-phobia type thing.

  Paul Steed, The Man, The Myth, The Fad
I attended this year's Quake Con.  Paul Steed always had a harem of chicks following him around wherever he went.  They acted like the guy had friend chicken in his pants or something.  More often than not, there was at least one hanging on him at all times.  Now that the event is over, there are suddenly all these web pages made by girls with lots of smiley emotocons and other obnoxious crap.  So, I'm wondering.  What does Steed think of all this?  What do you think about it?  

          -Observer

Knowing Paul, I'm sure he completely sucks it up.  Who wouldn't enjoy a gaggle of lusty busties chasing them around?  As a conniseur of Steed's, er, finer points before it became the "in" thing, I can easily understand the attraction, but lemme tell ya, it does make me a little itchy.  I've seen the girl sites you mentioned, and while I did in fact appreciate the visual aids, I've never played well with others, especially other girls, so I end up with a case of the heebie jeebies.  Darnit, does this mean I need to find another pastime?  I wonder if RadPipe has a harem yet?

  Embarrassment Spotlight
Every so often I like to reach deep down into the juicy pit of my own embarrassing horrors and drag out a doozy to share with you, my beloved readers.  It keeps me humble, or something.  This one happened not two weeks ago, so the agony is still fresh.  Go on, enjoy my pain.  -mynx

It was a busy weekday morning, and we were all getting ready to go.  We were dropping Mental off at work on our way to run some errands and CJ and I were, as usual, running late.  By the time we were ready to go, Mental was short tempered with me and really ready to get going.  This was about the time I realized I should make a stop in to the little girls' room (mom always told me to go before you leave the house) but I wasn't about to delay us any further, so I just decided to hold it until we'd gotten where we were going.

After depositing Mental at work, CJ and I headed off to our local Le Botique Target store for a little one-stop shopping action.  I was very glad to see the restroom when we walked in the store, so we rushed in only to end up behind about 15 other women in line.  Many more quickly piled up behind us.  Finally, it was my (our) turn, and a stall opened up.  Nowadays many stalls in womens' rooms come complete with little seatbelted fold down chairs for toddlers, but I wasn't so lucky on this day.  CJ puttered around the stall, flushing the toilet a few times (I bet that really faked out the women waiting in line, now that I think about it), tearing off toilet paper, and generally getting into everything he could find.

I stand up, and just as I go for my jeans (which were, of course, around my ankles), CJ throws his entire two year old bodyweight against the stall door, sending it absolutely slamming open, and there I stand, pants around my ankles, pubic hair rustling in the wind, face to face with about 10 strangers lined up and waiting to use the restroom.  My darling little son just stood there and cackled. 


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