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    PlanetQuake | Features | Dear Mynx | Hock a Loogie

THIS WEEK: Lowtax, aka Senor Jose Sweetcheeks, a poor young man with a hairy stump, some guy who just isn't all that interested in sex (say it ain't so!), a spitshine on the man steak, and a really yucky Embarrassment Spotlight courtesy of RadPipe, and his nose.  Anybody got a kleenex?

  Lowtax in the Morning, Lowtax in the Evening...
Lowtax.  Oh, Lowtax.  You know mynx, with all this talk on PQ about what's in Lowtax's pants, I'm finding myself all hot and bothered at the mere mention of his name.  Say it to yourself, nice and slow, Looooooowtaaaaaax.  Ooh, shudder.  Hey, do you know, is Lowtax straight or gay?  Is he married?  Give a guy some hope, tell me he swings both ways.  


To the best of my knowledge, Lowtax, or "Jose Sweetcheeks" as he is known here at PQ, is straight as an arrow, and just doesn't swing "that way".  There's always hope, though, and while you're no Cliff Yablonski, I'm sure there are ways you could "sweeten the deal".  Just bear in mind that Lowtax is really high maintenance.  Oh, and he likes corn.

  His Hairy Hawg
I have a really big problem, I have noticed that hair grows on the sides of my captain winky, I'd say that it goes half way up the old captain. Altough it isn't that much hair, I am really bothered by it and don't know what to do, I've tried shaving it of but to my horror I discovered that it grew back and then some.  Is there any other way I can remove captain winky's furcoat without shaving or waxing him?  


Yes, but they involve visits to a doctor, a needle stuck in the hair follicle, and a whole lot of time and effort, at least, for semi-permanent options.  There are creams like Nair that dissolve the hair, but they are generally not recommended for penile/vaginal use, sorry.  So you have a hairy slug.  Big deal.  Unless it's causing you or your love funnel physical discomfort or trauma, just deal with it.  I mean, really, your tsuba hides in your pants all day, so it's not like it's out flopping in all the hairy glory for you to behold all day long.  Deal with it, it's not a huge problem.

  Ain't Nobody Humpin Around!
I asked a few people I know what the heck is so unattractive about me. I'm about average in looks, I'm pretty smart, friendly, a bit of a loud mouth but folks normally like my sense of humor, and I know when to shut up. Everybody agrees with me on those points, some older women even claim I'm "very attractive" physically which I doubt but it's nice of them to say it. One woman mentioned one thing though that she thinks is my problem: *I'm not looking for sex.*

Don't get me wrong, sex is a nice thing. I just have had one relationship in the past where sex came into the picture, and it made a LOT of trouble for me. It was too much stress on things, and I wanted to wait again on the whole sexual relationship until marriage enters the picture. I just actually enjoy being close, foreplay, all that a lot more than sex. Now that I've finished the annoyingly long set up, my questions are as follows:

1) Is it really messed up for me to feel the way I do about sex? Is there something honestly wrong with me wanting to chill on the whole sex thing until I (maybe) get married?

2) As a woman, would it turn you off to the idea of a relationship with a guy if you knew he wouldn't "put out" so to speak? Would you think it made him any less a man or made you feel less attractive? 



          -Humpty Bumptless

Honey, I'm all for waiting for marriage and such if that's what you feel strongly about doing.  But, since you asked for my opinion, and, well let's be honest here, I'd give it to you even if you hadn't.  Truthfully, if a guy told me up front that he wasn't interested in sex... I'd spend all of my free time trying to get him interested.  I like sex.  I like sex a whole lot.  I would be very disappointed if I couldn't have sex, and even more disappointed if I waited until marriage only to find myself sexually incompatable with my spouse.  Gads that would blow like Romero at a hairdryer convention.  But as I've said before, I fully advocate personal choice and values and think that your best bet is to follow your heart and your own belief system.  If you feel you shouldn't be having sex, don't.  But don't expect all the women you meet to be happy about it.  Sure, you'll meet some who will be perfectly fine with it, and they will be the ones from which you select your partner.  Just be warned in advance that there are women out there who very much want to have their coffee ground, and will be quite disappointed when you don't show them Mr. Coffee.

  Grandma Never Meant This When She Said "Spit-shine"!
I've been masturbating for quite some time now...and I use a special means for lubrication. I use my spit. I find my spit to be very very good to use for this purpose. I don't even like masturbating without any lubrication at all, and there is nothing more handy than my own saliva. I've always wondered if anybody else did this. I've never heard anyone talk about it. Is this digusting? Should I not be doing it? If it is acceptable, then I think EVERYONE should do it. It's MUCH easier than finding lotion or whatever. And I always wash my hands after I'm done so I suppose it's sanitary. I hope it isn't too disgusting...but that won't stop me from doing it. :)  


You'd be surprised at the number of people who do this.  In fact I think saliva is probably the number one form of self lubricant used in the world today.  It's cheap, readily available, always the right temperature and doesn't sting.  I must confess to being a little curious, though.  I would imagine it takes a good deal of saliva to properly lubricate the old spootch monkey, or to relubricate once the initial application has dried out.  Are you just an ordinarily drooley individual?  Or do you sit there and work up a loogie for a good few minutes, and hock a bunch of those suckers up to get started?  Well, regardless.  It's perfectly normal, portable and acceptable.  Just don't go around telling perfect strangers that you like to slobber on your pendango, ok?

  Embarrassment Spotlight
He was so aroused to be mentioned in last week's Dear Mynx that Russell "RadPipe" Lauzon, Features Editor for loonygames, graciously sneezed out this charming foray into his teen mucous trauma.  Thanks Pipe, I should have known better than to read this while eating.

Let me set the stage.

Grade 10.  Approaching summer.  Past puberty but innocent in the ways of the world.  Coming into "my own", yet unsure how to proceed.  Full of jizz and no where to spend it.

I had gotten myself a one-day job pulling baby trees with a reforestation project.  It was pretty bland.  You pull a tree out of the ground, then you pull another, and another, and when you have 25 of the suckers, you wrap them up in a bundle and toss them in a truck.  The pay was dirt but 30 of us youngsters lined up for it, 'cause hey, cash is cash.  For some reason, I didn't know any of the other kids there that day.  There was a mixed bag of guys and girls, and they were all my age.  I know what you're thinking.  There were chicks there who didn't know me.  My reputation had not proceeded me.  Score baby!

The place we were to meet was 5 miles from my house and I was too young to drive.  But I had a bike!  For some reason I was a little late getting going that morning, so I had to peddle like mad to make up time.  It was a hot day too, and I had sweaty-bag syndrome before I'd gone 10 minutes.  But that was okay.  It didn't show and the "sloosh-sloosh" noise it made when I walked was barely noticeable.

There was a bus waiting to take us to the field where the baby trees grew.  Since I was late, everyone else was already loaded and waiting.  Okay, you have to picture this.  30 guys and girls (though in my memory, it seemed like there were far more girls than boys pasted to the windows than there should be) waiting for me.  30 guys and girls watching my every move as I rode up on my bike.

Ordinarily, this would make the average teenager just a little nervous.  But not me.  I had the look down.  All my movements were coordinated.  I've never been known as a good looking guy (I've been called cute numerous times
though, are we clear on that?), I've practiced my "thang" in front of a mirror long enough to capture the essence of "homeboy approaching bus" sorta look. 

Ok, so I rode up on my bike, dropped it on the ground, and was off walking toward the bus all in one smooth motion. My nose was a little runny but I easily held it in check.  I'm sure everyone was peeved at me for making them wait, but, to hell with them. I'm gonna strut my stuff.  And I was cool.  On a scale of 1 to 10 (1 being OneThumb, 10 being Paul Steed), I was at least an 8; somewheres just a little less cool than Jack Mathews but twice as cool as Disruptor.  And so I approached the bus. 

Things were looking good.  Homeboy on approach.  Somewheres in there I wondered what my hair must look like, after such a furious bike ride.  But there was no time to worry now.  I figured I'd just give my head a shake and hope everything fell neatly into place.  Perhaps I'd come off with that sexy dishevelled look.  And so I shook my head...

...and the biggest, sloppiest, rubberiest booger came whipping out of my nose and slapped back and forth across my face at least 6 times.  For a moment I almost lost stride as I realized this thing was hanging from my face like a cobweb.  Indeed, I had slimed myself.  I quickly put my hand in front of my face in hopes of hiding it, and suddenly my fingers looked skinnier than I ever remember them looking before.  I would have been paralized with fear and embarrassement had I not practiced my strut so much.  And so, as I realized I only had a few more steps to the bus, I did the only thing a man could do.  I inhaled the whole stinking booger back into my nose.  It was kinda like slurping spaghetti.  This thing whipped back and forth across my face once again and as suddenly as it had appeared, it had disappeared.  All I had was this fine sheen left over on my face, which I quickly wiped away with my sleeve.  And I got on the bus. 

Of course I didn't really accomplish anything by making it disappear again.  Everyone had seen it.  Everyone stared at me in horror as I walked down the aisle of the bus to find myself a seat.  I certainly wasn't thinking "score!" anymore.  For once, my strut could not help me at all.  

I spent most of the day quietly working by myself, being a non-social coward.  Few people talked to me.  And it was small consolation that I picked more baby trees than anyone, and so got paid the most.  No one cared. Not even me..

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