Send your sex and relationship questions to FanceeSex@theballerlifestyle.com

Charlie B. writes: Besides watching the beach scene between Apollo and Rocky in Rocky III, have you ever had a gay experience?

Brian: The 80s were an interesting time. The shorts were short, the sunglasses were big and everybody was on cocaine. It’s fun to look back to how oblivious we all were to all of the overtly gay imagery from our childhoods. Take the infamous Top Gun volleyball showdown. Everybody (sans Goose, thankfully) is heavily greased up and shirtless. Tom “Ice Man” Kasansky’s hair is bleached out like he’s moonlighting as a rent boy. “Slider” (WTF? “Slider” really?) is flexing his curiously perfect physique for an audience wholly comprised of other fly boys, and Lt. Pete Mitchell is wearing jeans and somehow elevating his 5’6” frame above the net for multiple monster spikes. And despite the “Playin’ With the Boys” soundtrack and Goose and Mav’s sweet round-the-world high fives, no one really caught on to the notion that two leathered-out bears engaged in full man-on-man intercourse is actually less gay than this scene.

One time at the gym (this is how most gay stories start) while blasting my core (it’s getting gayer) me and some other dude were both parallel to eachother holding a side-plank position (I’d be shocked if anyone were still reading at this point) when a trainer came over and placed one hand on each of our respective hips and proceeded to crack out ten pushups using our lithe, smooth, masculine bodies as a base. You ask me if I’ve had a gay experience? Yes, I’ve had a gay experience.

Fancee: I have a feeling this question was designed for a guy to answer… I mean there was this one time my girlfriends and I had a sleepover and drank too much pinot grigio and took our tops off and things kinda took a turn. Jk. Girls don’t really have “gay” experiences unless they’re lesbians, which I’m not. Girls can hook up and it’s not a “gay” experience. Has a lesbian ever hit on me or touched me in a way that made me uncomfortable? No. Did I kiss a girl once and like it? Sure.

 

Anonymous writes: My gym teacher used to watch us shower in middle school. Would it be weird to contact him now and ask him which one of us was the most attractive?

Brian: I’m guessing Mr. Sandusky would welcome a new pen pal. Just make sure you do him a solid and include pictures.

Fancee: What’s important is who’s the most attractive now.

 

Trojan95 writes: My friend’s mom said she fantasized about Willem Dafoe. I haven’t let him forget it for 20 years. Who is your ugliest celebrity fantasy?

Brian: Who’s the girl that played Precious? Her.

Fancee: Howard Stern.

 

Anonymous writes: I’m new to the dating pool after an 8-year relationship. Is there some sort of grooming mandate I should be aware of?

And similarly, albeit in sort of a creepy crude manner, Ish in Memphis writes: Here’s a serious question for FanceeSex: do you prefer cleanly shorn balls or is simply keeping them manscaped enough?

Brian: The age old question: to groom or not to groom. As with any negotiation you need to put yourself into the position of the other party. Assuming you are able to get to the point where you’re presenting your Jacobs for review by a potential lover, you don’t want to give that person any reason to turn their nose up at a potential genital interaction.

There’s a reason you wore a freshly-pressed shirt to the restaurant that night, same goes for your junk. That’s why I always advocate a cleaned-up genital area. You don’t want an unruly troll-doll-in-a-scissor lock sort of look, and at the same time you don’t want to scare her away with a freshly waxed bowling lane either. She’s looking for reasons not to have sex with you, don’t give her one. Use a trimmer with a guard; trim it down so it would look presentable at a dinner with clients. Once you get to know each other better, she’ll let you know if she prefers you Captain Caveman or Tom Slick.

Fancee: The best thing you can do when new to the dating scene, or in life in general, is have good hygiene. Finding out if you have halitosis or not is a good place to start. If you have bad breath you’re not hitting any bases. Use deodorant, floss, and use mouth wash. Have short clean fingernails. Hell, do yourself and everyone else a favor and get a mani-pedi. Trim any unwanted hair like nostril hair and, god forbid, ear hair. Get your teeth whitened if you need to. Do whatever it takes to make the most of what you’re working with.

As far as hair down there goes, there is no such thing as “not to groom.” Less is more. Start with a cleanly manscaped region and if you get lucky you and your new friend can discuss taking things down further and smoothing things out, if you know what I mean. Seriously, no one wants pubes in their mouth.

 

Paul writes: It’s 2014 and we still live in a society where some bros are not a #giver in the bedroom, which is the most reasonable answer as to why this is?

A. They had that “bad oyster” in their early sexual conquests.

or…

2. They’re hung like a moose and figured that’s all they need to bring to the party.

Also, these non-giving bros, any doubt that they refer to the bedroom as “where the magic happens”?

Brian: I have a really difficult time relating to anyone who’s sexually stingy. There’s simply nothing that makes you more of a man than making a woman feel beautiful and amazing. Take your time, ask her what she likes and do that thing. If you’re nervous, embarrassed or otherwise unwilling, share that with your partner. As with anything in a relationship, communication is everything. Talking about what makes you feel good sexually is the same as talking about what movie you’d like to see or what restaurant you prefer. If you’re not getting what you’d like, you need to convey that. And if you or your partner isn’t interested in giving the other person what they need, you’ve chosen the wrong partner. If you can’t find common ground, move on. Life is short. No one should have to settle for someone that doesn’t care enough to do it all. And anyone that says, “this is where the magic happens” is really telling you “this is where the tragic happens.”

Fancee: I have a few theories about this. A girlfriend of mine once dated a guy who never went down on her and only wanted to have sex with her in certain positions, where he wasn’t looking at her. This bro was clearly gay (there were other indicators as well). Not being a giver in the bedroom, in every sense, is tied to how you feel about your own sexuality and your ideas about what sex is. A lot of people, guys and girls, are plagued with sexual inhibitions, which stem from any number of issues. If you’re a giver in the bedroom you’re most likely a giver in all aspects of your relationship. I like to think you get what you give though. But basically, if you’re not enjoying all aspects of sex – which includes giving and receiving freely – you’re doing it wrong. Call your therapist because you’ve got some evolving to do.

Send your thoughts to mailbag@theballerlifestyle.com, and we’ll answer them here.

The public shaming candidates continue to roll in. If you appear on this list, take a long hard look in the mirror. If you like what you see, keep in mind that everyone who knows you is currently fantasizing about your demise.

Thanks for all that submitted. Here are the best of the batch.

Ish in Memphis proposes the shaming of “Clips Nails in Public Guy”:

…needs to publicly shamed because that’s obviously abhorrent, sociopathic behavior. I have nothing else to say about that except to say that society has every right to flog Clips Nails in Public Guy right in his cod sack…

Ed: After bringing them home from the store, nail clippers should spend the rest of their days in about a four-foot radius inside a bathroom. Nobody, not even people in your household, should ever be subjected to that vile ritual. If you notice you’re developing a bit of a coke nail outside the home, duck out to a hidden area and bite that fucking nail. It’s not the world’s problem that this practice is unsanitary. And fuck anyone who needs to be told this information.

Brian: For me it’s the sound. That distinct noise that signals you are in close proximity to a degenerate of the highest order, the public nail clipper. Obviously this behavior is completely unacceptable, but the fact that it isn’t criminal (yet) is really an indictment of our society as a whole. The public nail clipper is a vile and disgusting wretch, but it’s what you don’t know about this guy that’s even worse. Because if he’s willing to do that in full view of the world, there’s simply no telling what other forms of degeneracy he’s capable of. This guy’s DNA needs to be in a database and lucky for us he’s leaving little bits of it in the park for the authorities to collect.

 

Mark the Nomad offers “Brings a cooler of protein to work guy”:

This guy may only be indicative to my work, but I’ve got a guy at my job who brings a cooler of protein with him to work every day. He’s got a real strict regiment and he’s got to eat his fish/grilled chicken concoctions at 10am 1pm and 3:30 daily. He generally scorches the break room with fish mid day essentially ruining everyone else’s lunch. Despite him being a full time teacher, he still wears skintight Under Armor polos and will probably fuck a student in the next sixth months.

Ed: Whoa, whoa, whoa, Mark. You’ve given us all a lot to think about. Despite this being one man, these are really two issues. The simple one is the skin-tight Under Armor polos.   By wearing those (and to a TEACHING job!), he’s essentially wearing the shame sign around his neck at all times. If you’re a guy, there’s no need for skin tight clothing ever, but certainly, not at work. If you’re trying to get the attention of a coworker, just show up. As long as you don’t wear a potato sack to work he or she will notice. Tight clothing is really your way of telling the world that your parents didn’t say they loved you enough as a kid.

But way bigger issue is the guy thinking it’s alright to bring pungent foods to work. We all have these coworkers and it’s time to take a stand. Eat something neutral like a salad or sandwich and the world smiles with you. But, if your fad dieting requires you to eat fish and chicken concoctions that stink up the break room or nearby cubicles, then you take that garbage and shame-eat it in your car or behind a dumpster. Nobody cares that you’ve chosen a life of body sculpting in an effort to overcompensate for your dogshit personality, Tad.

Brian: I’m not mad at this guy. I don’t really need to hear about how many grams of protein he’s throwing down every three hours, and I definitely don’t want any information on his “program” or “training routine,” but there’s nothing wrong with maintaining a clean, healthy diet. Full disclosure: I might be this guy. My lunch often consists of whatever I had for dinner the night before, and at least a couple days a week that’s fish and veggies. I respect this guy’s right to blow up the break room kitchen with some salmon and broccoli, because I do the same thing at my office. I would argue that the odor from some delicious reheated halibut isn’t nearly as foul smelling as that frozen pile of preservatives disguised with a clever marketing name (Lean Cuisine, Smart Ones, etc.) that Brenda from HR throws into the microwave every day at noon. And let’s face it even the most naïve coed with acute body dysmorphia isn’t dumb enough to sex a guy in skintight Under Armor.

 

Spice Rack is angry about two elevator guys. The first is “Hustles to hit ‘UP’ button as the doors are closing guy”:

…causes everyone on that elevator to twiddle their goddamn thumbs for another 30 seconds because he’s so worried about his Corner Bakery soup getting too cold before he gets back to his desk.  How about you eat a bowl of dicks instead of your soup, That Guy.

Ed: This guy is a typical “my life is more important than yours” guy. If he’s holding a cooler full of transplant organs, by all means let the man get on that elevator. But, if he’s holding lunch or just his shitty smug look, the people in the elevator should be allowed to kick him in the chest and make him wait for the next one.

Brian: I blame Mr. Otis for this. Once the doors start to close, the up and down buttons should be immediately disabled. If you have a boner to get into a full elevator it should be up to the elevator’s occupants to approve your passage. Sure you can yell “HOLD THE DOOR” or “LITTLE HELP,” but you should be at the mercy of the Czar of the Door. If he (or she) deems you worthy of a lift, he’ll throw out the arm to stop that door from slamming closed on your dreams of reaching the 8^th floor in time to see that new receptionist leaving in her yoga clothes. And assuming the Czar shows you a bit of mercy, protocol states that you be effusively thankful “hey man, reaaaally appreciate it, thank you” or else he should be allowed to throw you down the elevator shaft somewhere around floor number six.

 

SpiceRack also serves up “Way too nice and helpful in the elevator guy”:

You know him.  He’s the one who’s already in the elevator car and spots you heading towards the elevator bank from 500 feet away.  Inevitably, he makes a big show for holding the door open for you.  Now you have to half-jog to the elevator, sloshing hot coffee onto your hands – and usually down the front of your shirt – in the process.  And then on top of it all you have to act uber-grateful and thank That Nice (?) Guy for saving you five seconds of time when in reality all he’s doing is garnering you $5.50 in extra dry cleaning bills.

Ed: There are two explanations for his behavior. Either way, this guy is a fucking monster. If we’re being optimistic, he is completely oblivious to the fact that he is annoying everyone around him. He doesn’t realize that he made you unnecessarily rush. He doesn’t realize that the people in the elevator aren’t interested in waiting. He essentially has shit for brains. It’s a wonder he was able to figure out how to get to the building in the first place.

The second explanation is that this guy just prides himself on being known as “the good guy.” Real good guys do good guy things like actually help people. Fake good guys do things like hold elevator doors. The only reason he did it is so he can go home and write about it in his journal. “Dear Diary, today I helped someone in need…” Congratulations, fuck face. Everyone hates you.

Brian: This is the same dickhead who holds the door for you at Starbucks, but then quietly seethes when you don’t wave him ahead of you in line. This jerk fancies himself a hero, but really he’s all about himself. He’s got his chest puffed up like he’s brokered an Israel/Palestine peace accord because he held a door open for someone. I typically leisurely walk toward the elevator and right before I get in I pretend to take a phone call and walk away so his lame gesture goes for naught.

 

Doug Doran presents “Guy who walks up to bar and asks for Drink Menu”:

Really?  You are at a bar and have to look at a menu to pick your poison?  Beer or whisky work just fine for me, and maybe a little red wine to mix in.

Ed: Have some dignity, man. Unless you’re an alien who recently inhabited the body of a human, you know damn well what you’re ordering at a bar. I’m 99 percent beer. For some reason, I prefer to drink my brown liquor at home – alone – but that might be a story for my therapist. But even if you like Sex on the Beach or Mai Tais, you knew that years before approaching the bar.   If you’re considering some unique, specialty cocktail that is only made at this bar, chances are you’re at an Applebee’s. It’s probably best you order three fingers of Liquid Drano and end this charade of a life.

A close cousin of this guy is the “asks for a sample spoon at ice cream places guy.”

Brian: I refuse to acknowledge that this guy actually exists, because I’ve only ever seen chicks ask for a drink menu.

 

Finally, Becky (yes, a woman) complains about “The Batwing-Avoiding Commuter Guy”:

The guy who stretches his knees out across more than his own seat on a bus or train – usually causing a female to have to stand, or be squashed in next to him. I don’t care that you have sweaty testicles. What you don’t have is manners and common courtesy.

Ed: First of all, if you’re a real man you don’t sit while a woman stands. I’m not proposing we go back to the throw-jacket-over-a-puddle-Sir-Walter-Raleigh days. But, fuck, be a man. If it’s too hard for you to stand, it’s time to reassess whether or not you should be allowed to leave the house.

As for the bat wings, just powder after the shower. That usually does the trick. If that fails, just adjust the yam sack through the pocket. You can’t keep those legs spread forever, chief.

Brian: Being blessed to have spent all of my life in the sunny clime of beautiful Southern California where we aren’t burdened with cattle car mass transit situations, I’m having a hard time picturing this animal. Is he sitting forward with one knee lying akimbo on the neighboring seat? Or is he (egads!) turned sideways with both of his legs on the adjacent sitting place? I guess it doesn’t matter, because fuuuuuck this guy. I feel like this is an easy shaming though. Eye contact, combined with a shoulder shrug and palms to the sky is the universally recognized symbol for “how about you get your leg off of the seat, dickhead?” The question is: do you want to sit next to a guy that’s chosen public transport as the ideal location to ventilate his bota bag?