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This week's question asks for a bit of dating advice....

Dear Orlando,

I've been seeing this girl for a few weeks now. She's smart and beautiful and I really like her. Last night, we decided to get busy for the first time, and lo and behold, she isn't. A she. She isn't a she. Needless to say, when I saw it, I got dressed and high-tailed it out of her apartment.

Today I'm wondering if I made a mistake. Like I said, I really do like her. Him. Whatever.

What should I do?

Cock-Shocked in Birmingham

Dear Shocked,

If you like her a lot, does it really make a difference?

It’s like playing a sport. You can get all hung up on the equipment, and never get around to enjoying the GAME. Say you’re up for a game of footy, but you haven’t got an onion bag for the goal. Have you ever seen that stop a fistful of blokes from passing the ball back and forth and taking a few headers? There’s still a lot of fun involved, what with all the juggling and opportunities to nutmeg your opponent. And who needs stripes anyway? I think it’d be brilliant to play in shirts and skins all the time. Forget the bloody pinafores. Some guys don’t even need a soccer ball! They’ll play with hacky-sacs and pinecones, and one time I saw Bean roll up a pair of his underkecks and stuff them inside a dirty sock—


Anyway, what I was tryin’ to say is that you gotta get back in the saddle and land the plane, man.

First of all, you gotta turn with the ball. Get used to the idea that your girl has some special equipment. She’ll be mighty happy if you do. Things that work for you will work for her too, and you won’t have the added penalties that come when you don’t know all the laws.

Step Two: Call her. Don’t wait for the two day allowance. Ring her up right now and try for an Oscar by blaming your jailbreak on the spinach in your salad at supper. Beg off that you had to place an emergency call on the Big White Tele, or that you have really good hearing like a Standard Poodle and you heard your mum yelling for you to come get the laundry you left in her dryer.

If she won’t see you, proceed to Step Three anyway. Just use more discretion.

Step Three consists of showing up at the door with her favorite flowers, a big box of Godiva chocolates, and most importantly, the Money Move: a shiny new pair of open toed Dior patent leather pumps in just her size. Be prepared to duck in case you end up collecting one of the pumps in the chest. On second thought, maybe Armani cork wedges would be less likely to leave a permanent scar. Get those instead.

Oh, and yeah, if you’re computer’s hooked up, look to see if there are any autographed pictures of Johnny Depp too. I mean, it can’t hurt, right? And if you hold his ugly mug in front of your face, she’s less likely to make a DFK at your blitherin’ head, y’know?

If the gifts work like I think they will, it’ll be time for a bit of kiss and make up. Keep the clothes on for now, especially the pumps. Just be sure to leave Mr. Scissors-for-hands face-down on the table. Neither one of you blokes needs the distraction. I mean, your bird doesn’t need the decoy run —

Oh, fuck. Nevermind.

Take it slow. Take it easy. Don’t push to penetrate, or you’ll be dicked. It’s a Round Robin tournament here, mate, and you’ll need to be playing some Samba Soccer to make up for being the complete tosser you were last night. Remember, the coach is right when he says, “You’ll always miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.” Just make sure your set-up’s a good offense, so your boygirl won’t go on the strong defense.

Good luck, mate. Don’t come off your man, eh? Like you said before, she’s smart and beautiful and you really like her, and that’s what counts. Keep your eye on the balls, and soon you’ll be back playing forward position!
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June 2008

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