Essays and Bad Ideas

Bedtime Behavior for Boisterous Boys

Ugh.

For reasons that have always mystified and vaguely embarrassed me, I’ve received dozens of asks from young men over the years, wanting me to tell them how to… be me. Most of the guys in question seem like well-intentioned, decent people, but that’s pretty much the most absurd goal anyone could ever have, so I’ve just ignored them.

Hell, on a day-to-day basis, I more or less pretend my male followers don’t exist. Aside from the occasional penis-laden GIF, dudes just aren’t a major factor in anything I do around here. And they don’t need to be, since the most important part of my audience —ironically, also the least important part— seems to get what I’m doing.

But then I bump into an anon like the one from earlier this week, and I remember that the guys are not only out there, but they’re reading this shit, and some of ‘em are jumping to all the wrong conclusions. I should probably try to do something about that.

So let’s talk about how I talk. (Jesus. It has come to this. 🙄)

I’ll be the first to admit that my intentions are often encoded and non-obvious. Part of that is just me amusing myself; I need to turn things into challenges to make them interesting, and “take that, cunt” got old back when I was secret, silken, and giving men bad names. But part of it is because I want this stuff to be murky and multi-faceted so that the reaction is murky and multi-faceted. I want “oh god, that’s terrible and beautiful and unsettlingly visceral,” not “oh daddy I’m so wet!”

And more importantly for the purposes of this discussion, I’m definitely not looking for “Yeah, bitches, this is how it should be! Ha ha, charade you are!”

So let’s start with something simple, something any idiot should be able to understand. Like this post.

Note that this is a prime example of me being a degrading dick to an anon. People had fun reading it, a certain number of clits were rubbed vigorously, and a faceless person with an investment in neither me nor her own non-question got an answer that made her little heart beat faster. All good.

But the meat of my response is in the first and last paragraphs. “Be a grown-up, take responsibility for your life, and don’t act like you’re some kind of lost waif who can’t even conceive of what to do about a cheating man.” The rest is hot, and might even be some variant of the truth for a particular girl, but if that’s all you’re seeing when you read it, then you don’t get me or what I’m doing here.

And if you’re a guy who doesn’t get it, you’re a problem. To me, and anyone near you. If you aren’t already, you’re one step away from being a toxic turd in the already tainted punch bowl.

Seriously, kids… this shit is socio-sexual dynamite, and it deserves respect from the people handling the explosives. So if you insist on doing or being anything like me, first try taking a trip back to fourth grade math and learn to show your fucking work… find ways to demonstrate that you know you’re saying and doing messed-up things, that you acknowledge “it makes me horny” isn’t a justification for jack-shit, and you’re aware the world is bigger than your erection.

And no, you don’t get to just push it off to a disclaimer in your blog header, or an occasional, pro forma excuse post where you pretend to be a poor, misunderstood soul standing tall against the hobgoblins of conformity. None of us here are misunderstood; we’re just assholes that dumb girls want to kiss. Accept it, own up to it, and integrate it into the way you express yourself.

Be better, boys.