Happy holidays, losers! This is the time of year Santa brings sacks of presents to undeserving little boys and girls, which is ironic since all of you are little boys and girls who are sad sacks of sh*t. Meanwhile I keep banging ho’s, ho’s, and ho’s. Merry Christmas indeed, at least for me.
But it’s a time of festive celebration, so perhaps I should lay off the insults, at least for a sentence or two. But then, I’d just be enabling the weak rather than fixing the meek, and that is what my job is here, right? The problem is, you’re all hopeless. Sometimes I wonder why I even bother continuing fixing the unfixable, but I guess it brings me some sort of pleasure to laugh at the less fortunate and less capable. It also allows me to gloat, and frankly, it gives me a temporary break from the nonstop f*cking and sucking that is my life.
So fear not, children. Dr. Dave is here and he’s not going anywhere. Onto the mailbag for a holiday edition of sex therapy!
Only time for two letters this week, but they require long responses. Enjoy… Remember to send your questions to The Armpit and they may be posted here.
Dear Dr. Dave,
I know you love to browbeat your readers for their sexlessness, but I regret to inform you that I actually DO have a girlfriend. My problem, however, is that she has the sex drive of a librarian. I’m all revved up and ready to go at a moment’s notice, 24 hours a day. But she only wants it once a week, if I’m lucky, and usually less often than that. What can I do to spark up our sex life and get her in the mood more often?
Strictly Platonic in Baltimore, MD
DB: You might be surprised to hear this (I know I certainly am), but I actually DO believe you. You see, I probably assume too often that you guys can’t get a girl, and that’s unfair of me.
Some of you clearly CAN get women. The problem is, your women are hideous and disgusting.
But that’s okay! Right? You all can’t dine on an endless rotation of beauty queens as do I, just as you all can’t have million dollar bodies and perfect genetics as do I, and it’s unfair of me to judge you.
But I will judge you anyway, so sit back and take it like a man.
Look dude, sorry to tell you the brutal truth, but you ain’t getting’ the job done in the sack. Whenever I hear saps like you tell me their girlfriends aren’t horny anymore, I take pleasure in delivering the bad news that it isn’t THEIR fault for having an alleged “low sex drive,” it’s YOUR fault for not igniting it! Show me a woman with a quote-unquote low sex drive, and I’ll show you a lousy lover who’s not giving her orgasms, who’s neglecting her pleasure points, and who’s turning her off with your disgusting bodies and sickening hygiene. No wonder these women don’t want you. Even the ugly ones!
I know this for a fact, because on a daily basis I’m constantly besieged by woman after woman who tell me their men suck in bed, and they beg me for a chance to give them even the slightest bit of pleasure. They tell me they LIE to you guys, claiming “my head hurts” or “I’m not in the mood, honey,” because that’s better than telling the TRUTH and hurting your feelings! And the truth is: NONE OF Y’ALL KNOW HOW TO TURN ON A F*CKING COMPUTER, let alone a woman.
So what do I do? Well first I scan through the daily barrage of women and weed out the uglies. Then I take the hotties and bang them from one corner of my bedroom to the other, orgasming them into submission the way they want YOU to do to THEM. But you can’t, so I’m left doing YOUR job. You’re welcome, dipsh*ts. It’s a tough job, and I do it only because I’m a humanitarian, and I see good sex as a charitable activity for women (well, only the hot ones) married to sexless dipwads like you who can’t get your girlfriends to cum to save your miserable lives. Maybe if YOU did your job, I wouldn’t have to commit all this adultery in the name of humanity.
Seriously, is it that hard?? Stop focusing on your own damn orgasm; you got plenty of practice doing that in your teenage years when you destroyed national forests wasting toilet paper to mop up your disgusting semen as you wacked it to Playboy. And you’ll get plenty of practice AFTER these women leave you. But for now, embrace the miracle notion that you even have a woman, and GET HER OFF ALREADY.
See your tongue? Use it. On her mouth, on her body, on her private parts, on her skin, on the backs of her knees, on her thighs, on her bunghole, you name it. If she’s gross, well, you’re dating her in the first place, so you must be able to stomach it somehow (I never could, but this is YOU guys we’re talking about). Watch a few videos on how to lick snatch properly (HINT: if she’s not having an orgasm from your tongue, you’re doing it incorrectly). Learn the positions that get her off, and then master them.
And while you’re doing all that, look in the f*cking mirror. Happy with what you see? Yeah, didn’t think so. Neither is she, TRUST me. Lose the belly. Get a tan. Shave that disgusting body hair. If you’re balding, either wear a decent piece or shave that sh*t off. Groom yourself. Get a sense of style and dress like you’re a man who gets laid (even though you’re not).
Basically, try to look as much like me as possible. It’ll never happen, but even if you attain 10% of my look, it’s still 1,000 times better than 100% of YOUR look.
Then take your next tax refund and buy a f*ckin’ clue. Seriously, if you’re not getting laid regularly, it’s YOUR fault.
And remember this: eat your girlfriend’s p*ssy… OR I WILL.
I need some advice from The Animal! I’ve taken a lot of advice in your columns, and it has helped me with talking to girls and getting dates. Lots of them, actually. My problem is sealing the deal. I find it so hard to get the kiss without them turning their heads. Or they just want to be friends. How can I stop being a serial dater and start living the life you have?
Need Help Closing
DB: Whoa buddy, slow down there. While you can definitely improve your chances of closing the deal, you will NOT ever live the life I do. Come back down to reality and stop judging yourself against the impossible standards of even coming close to a tiny fraction of my success. Ain’t. Gonna. Happen.
That doesn’t, however, mean all hope is lost. Most of it IS lost, yes. But not all.
You see, I actually like you. Not for who you are, no. That would be impossible. But because you said you LISTEN to my advice. That right there is half the battle, and it’s more effort than 99% of the lazy f*cks reading this are willing to put forth. I almost respect that about you. Almost.
Hey, at least you’re getting dates, right? While it’s definitely pathetic that you can’t even get the kiss, it’s certainly less pathetic than not getting any dates at all. So I give you minor props for that.
But that’s where the pats on the back end, and the slaps to the face begin.
SLAP! What’s wrong with you! Come on!! You’ve somehow convinced these she-dogs to go out with you, so if they’re turning their heads when you go for the kiss, it’s YOUR fault. I mean, you’re probably really grotesque. Still, that can’t be the reason. After all, the women you date are probably grotesque too, AND they’re on a date with you in the first place. So you’re either not grotesque (highly unlikely) or they’re so gross themselves (very likely) that they’re willing to accept your grossness.
But that’s good news, and frankly I’m grasping at straws here in trying to see light at the end of this tunnel of eternal darkness.
Keep doing whatever you’re doing to GET the date and HAVE the date. After that point, STOP whatever you’re doing and do what I’m gonna tell you to do:
1) Think about when it’s a good time to kiss her.
2) Don’t kiss her.
3) Tell her you know me personally.
4) Watch her reaction, and prepare to catch her if she feints.
5) If she’s passed out, kiss her. If she’s impressed that you know me, she’ll kiss YOU.
6) Then she’ll rip your pants off and suck and f*ck you dry in hopes you’ll introduce her to me.
7) After you seal the deal, tell her the truth, that you DON’T know me. I do NOT want to be associated with losers like you. I’ve got a reputation to uphold, ya know?
Problem solved. Will she leave you once she finds out you don’t know me? Yes. But who cares? It’s better than having people think I actually do know someone of your, um, “caliber.”
And you’ll have already gotten some action, so if she leaves, she’s doing YOU a favor. And you’re doing her one too, trust me. Just find a new girl and rinse and repeat.
Basically, ride on my coattails, because it’s the only way your timid ass will get ANY play. But then once you get what you want, tell her the truth. If I find out ANY woman thinks I’d even possibly know someone like you, I’m huntin’ YOU down and giving you a TERRIBLE ass beating. And I’m dead serious.
Ahh, it feels good to help the helpless. It’s Christmas season, so I felt a little nicer than usual. Enjoy it now, lame-o’s, because next time it’s gonna be back to brutal business and I won’t be anywhere near as kind hearted as I was this month.
‘Tis the season when women are stressed from the holidays, so it’s time for Batista Claus to give them a “white” Christmas… that is, the white juice I’m going to splatter all over their faces, stomachs, backs, and breasts. Until next time, losers! Remember to keep sending me your sexless letters, and I’ll try not to weep while reading them.
Disclaimer: Dave Batista didn’t really write this. The Armpit did. But we know it’s what Dave would say.