Kamis, 19 Januari 2012

A Reader Asks


A reader left this question on a recent previous post:

Dear Abby,

I have a problem. Everytime I go to do a ball check, I end up getting aroused, making a mess, and the old lady wants to know why I disappear for long periods of time. Is there a way to shut her up?

Sincerely,
Eddie

Well, Eddie, that is a problem. Not the ‘getting aroused and making a mess’ part; that makes all the sense in the world! After all, our balls are sensitive. Even doing the monthly ball check they can misinterpret the attention and send the signal to raise the flagpole (they do so love to be played with and fondled!). The subsequent mess, easily cleaned up, is fully understood by us guys because once the pole is in the upright position the natural thing to do is to wrap a hand around it and beat it into submission, which, of course, splatters the surrounding area(s).

What is troubling you – and many thousands of other guys – is the lack of knowledge and understanding on the part of the women in your lives; women who have not been given proper instruction on the physiological phenomena of male anatomy.  The solution, of course, is education. Knowledge is powerful stuff, though, and we must take care to ensure understanding accompanies that [knowledge].

This is a problem men have faced for millennia. Now, what do you do about it so she will cease asking where you’ve been disappearing [to] for long periods of time? There is the blunt approach: “Sorry, honey, I just had to pound out a load.” But there is the risk of offending the fairer gender’s somewhat delicate sensibilities when it comes to matters of the penis.

There is the straight-forward, but minimalist approach: “I was doing my TSE. It’s necessary, dear. It’s important to catch cancer in its early stages. Just like you do a monthly self breast exam – you do, don’t you?” (This last part must be said with every ounce of sincerity.) “Well, men need to check their testicles monthly and it can take a good long while to do a thorough job.”

If by chance she would like to know how one is done, send her to the computer to watch the YouTube demonstration.

Then, there is the gentle but forceful approach: “Honey, sit down; we need to talk. Evidently, your mother didn’t do a complete job of explaining men to you. See, men masturbate. It has nothing whatsoever to do with our desire for our wives or partners. I love you, I desire you, I want to be with you. But there are times – quite often actually – when men need to spend some quality time alone and take care of themselves. And we do this for a variety of reasons; our mental and physical well-being depends upon this.”

It’s important that you remain calm and answer her queries in a gentle manner. Goodness, the worst thing we can do is growl when faced with answering these kinds of questions. If we come off as defensive, our ladies become suspicious of our motives and feel threatened. And, plainly speaking, our habit of whacking the willy sends questioning thoughts into their heads; things like, ‘Doesn’t he find me attractive anymore?’ and ‘What’s wrong with me? Am I not pretty enough anymore; have I gained too much weight; doesn’t he love me anymore; am I not doing something right when we have sex; am I not enough for him,’ and on and on the calliope spins. These things are never said, mind you – at least not in those words. Those thoughts emerge in deeds and behaviors which we men find altogether baffling. That is what you don’t want.

She must come to understand that your time spent jacking off is no reflection upon her. It’s a guy thing, plain and simple. Our dicks can stand up and demand attention at the weirdest times; our balls can feel like ten pounds of dead weight dragging on the floor even within an hour after we’ve had the most amazing sex. To reinforce the male point of view on masturbation, some marriage counselors and sex therapists have even gone so far as to suggest a man invite his partner to watch him take his own pleasure.

Eddie, I hope this helps. There’s no worse sensation than your raging, red-hot, steel pole painfully straining to snake down a pant leg, your nuts screaming to be relieved of their dead-weight cargo and either, A. not being able to take care of them, or B. having to hide somewhere to do the deed furtively. That makes us defensive, become offensive, and gets us to feel guilty over an activity which is as natural and normal for us as the changing of the tide.





Perhaps, I can begin a new feature of this blog: Ask Pat.

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