My girlfriend likes to stick her finger up my bum, but I have hemorrhoids that hurt when she does. Afterwards, I’m bleeding for a day because they’re so irritated — and, to boot, it’s not even pleasurable for me. But I don’t want to get rid of something that arouses her sexually. (Why she hasn’t said anything about them is beyond me. They are so embarrassing.) I can’t find a way to broach the subject.
— Sore bum
Dude. If it pains you, that’s a problem. You need to tell her — you’d want her to do the same, right?
I get that it’s a weird subject. But people have hemorrhoids. Some have warts. Some squirt rank stenches. Some have unkempt furburgers. Some have extra long vaginal canals. Some have crooked dicks. Some have weird nipples. Some have monster balls. We’re all crafted differently by way of DNA’s Play-Doh. It doesn’t mean we should be embarrassed.
Women who bleed teaspoons of blood out of their pants area five days a month can attest that any blood, any amount of time, spouting out of the pants parts is painful and will forever be inconvenient.
At least you can borrow her maxi pads for work.
If you’re concerned about maintaining her pleasure (you’re sweet, call us), you can ask her to lube her fingers, so she can gently wade through your swollen ass protrusions and try to go for the bullseye without aggravating those anus sores. (Then stitch it in a throw pillow.)
But better yet, just tell her. If you don’t want to bleed, she’ll have to keep her stinkfinger in her own bum.
My boyfriend calls his mom by her first name, Miranda. Guess what my first name is? Miranda. So guess who he’s sent numerous disturbing texts to? His mom. I’ve begged him to change my name in his phone — or his mom’s name — but he won’t. “You’re both Miranda,” he says. He has even sent her dick pics, meant for me. I don’t care that he’s close to his mom and they laugh about it, but I don’t want her to have a glimpse into our personal texting life. BTW, he’s 30.
—Miranda No. 2
Pass Oedipus the paper. Now.
Oedipus: You’re pretty sick, dude. This predicament is disturbing on various levels.
Sending your mom graphic diatribes of how hard you want to blast one in “Miranda” isn’t appropriate. It may be inconvenient to edit a contact in your phone, but if you want Miranda No. 2 to stick around, you need to change her name ASAP. Suggestions for ease: “Girlfriend,” “Lover,” “Partner,” “Bouncy Tits,” “Apple Bottom,” “Bae Boo Bubby,” “Poopy,” “Tassle Vag,” “Twisty Tongue,” “Squirty Pants,” “Pasties.”
You’re boning your mother’s namesake, buddy, not your mother. She may have helped you potty train, but those days are decades over. You can still be close with your mom, but you need to respect your girlfriend’s privacy wishes and keep your dick safe with — and in — her.
Leviticus once told us, “A woman who becomes pregnant and gives birth to a son will be unclean for seven days, as she is during the days of her menstruation.”
Sexist, misogynistic, patriarchist and fictional bullshit aside, you and your mother need to clean up the act. It’s 30 years past seven days. It’s inappropriate for a grown man who slid out of the birthslide of a grown woman to “accidentally” send her cock shots when there are various simple alternatives to rectify the problem.