Mondays can be tough. That’s why every Monday from now until you die, I’ll be doing the Manic Monday Mailbag to keep us both entertained. You can submit your questions by clicking “Mailbag” on our submission form, or emailing email@example.com. Be sure to include your first name, city, state and Twitter handle if you’d like that information included. I look forward to reading everyone’s hilarious inquiries.
Q: I’ve been jerking off at work at least once a day. I don’t go to the bathroom. I have an office (nothing fancy but it does have a door), and I close the door and call my credit card company just to get on hold, so if anyone looks through the window or opens the door I can point to the phone and mouth “come back later,” then I jerk off under the desk. Is this normal behavior and what are the repercussions if I get caught?
Good Lord, man. What the hell is wrong with you? No, this is not normal behavior, and the repercussions if you get caught are that you’ll immediately get fucking fired for being a sexually deviant madman. The on-hold music your credit card company plays must be unbelievably sensual. Can you imagine the phone call between any potential future employers researching your work history and your soon to be ex-boss? “He was a solid employee, but then we caught him making sex to his hand under the desk.”
Quit spanking the monkey in your office, and get yourself a therapist to work out the deep-seated issues you obviously have that cause you to struggle with wildly inappropriate and impulsive behavior in the workplace.
Q: I went on a date girl a girl who CrossFits. She had not read your #StopCrossFit article yet, but I showed her and she loved it. This girl is pretty stacked, and since I don’t work out, she could probably whoop my ass. Is it weird that I want to continue to see her to find out if she can actually beat the shit out of me? The thought of this kinda gets me going.
—Timothy in Minneapolis, MN
The idea you’re flirting with here is called masochism, Tim. The dictionary defines it as “the tendency to derive pleasure, especially sexual gratification, from one’s own pain or humiliation.” It starts with wanting a CrossFit chick to beat the shit out of you, and the next thing you know you’re asking her to rub a cheese grater on your crank like Ralph Cifaretto in The Sopranos. This is a dark and dangerous road you’re journeying down, so proceed with caution.
Q: I’m noticing this trend among all my friends. Everyone is moving so quickly in their relationships that I’m having trouble taking them seriously. They go on like two OkCupid dates and decide they’re in love. It’s taken everything I have in me not to say, “You’re not in love, you met three weeks ago, he’s just the only guy who’s actually been interested in you outside the hours of 2am and 11am in four years,” but something tells me that’s in poor taste, and I’m worried that I’m the crazy one here, because it’s happening with everyone. Am I destined to continue recycling my now-boring friends with fun single people until I go on a third OKC date of my very own? And more importantly, why is everyone so eager to be in these serious adult relationships in a matter of weeks? Is it desperation, their biological clocks, or is it love?
—Jenna in D.C.
This is something all singles in their twenties and thirties deal with. It’s tough watching as your friends get into serious relationships (or marriages) and start doing incredibly lame adult activities like painting classes instead of getting wasted at the bar and throwing up in a trash can and then making out with several strangers. You feel like those adult friends don’t care about you anymore, that you have nothing in common, and that it’s impossible for them to relate to your struggle. Be patient. Eventually you’ll find some poor bastard to join you in monogamous hell, and you’ll be in the same miserable boat with the rest of them. Unless they’ve already had kids, and then you’re still behind and totally fucked.
Q: My girlfriend is planning to move in with me this coming May when she graduates and moves to D.C. Part of me wants to just say “no,” because I do not want to become one those couples and start my life with her just yet. (I only graduated college five months ago and I’m still in that mindset occasionally). But there is a deep, dark and fucked up side to me that still comes out to play on occasions. Example: after nailing down some box seats to a Nationals game this past Labor Day weekend, squeezing in a quick morning 9 and half a dozen mimosas before noon, I never made it to our seats because I was busy at the bar in the stadium. After several bars in all four corners of D.C. after the game, several phones numbers picked up and just plain irresponsible bar tabs, I woke up in my front yard in Arlington. Some say this behavior is irrational and immature and that I need to grow up. Well “fuck you,” I say. I am winning at this game called life. But really, am I really? Probably not. I’m a drunk, I know. I’m also okay with this.
Do I bite the bullet and get the place with this girl to grow up? We are only 23 years young, still a lot of gas in the tank, and I still have some of the invincible feeling left over from college.
There’s an old saying that applies here: “After college, it’s called alcoholism.” The thing is, I don’t know a single guy that dropped his horrific drinking habits and started acting like an adult immediately after receiving his diploma. It takes years to completely let go of the lifestyle you maintained on campus and complete the transition into adulthood. I will say, though, that if you’re still waking up in your fucking lawn after a night of hard drinking, you should probably let your girlfriend move in with you, because you need to be put on a proverbial leash. One of my good friends got married immediately after college, because he knew that if he didn’t, he’d ruin his life by behaving like a belligerent man-boy. He needed a woman to reign him in and keep his shit in check. You sound like you need the same, you drunken buffoon.
Q: My friend and I have gotten into an asinine argument. He thinks that aliens exist and have visited Earth before. I think he’s a fucking moon and it’s not possible for an alien to ever make it to Earth unless they live on the moon. What are your thoughts?
—Steve in Detroit, MI
Your friend might be an alien, so I wouldn’t piss him off. Next thing you know, he’ll be walking around wearing your skin like a Steve suit, completely stealing your identity and your life. Have you not seen Men in Black? Watch your back, Steve.
Q: When I wake up in the morning, I piss sitting down. I am too tired to stand up. Do most guys do this too or am I fucking weird?
—Charles in San Jose, CA
Get some fucking sleep, Charles. And stand up like a man. You’re embarrassing us all.
Q: Do you think you could get away with murdering someone? I feel like I could personally do it and never be caught. Additionally, do you think you know anyone who has murdered someone and gotten away with it? I feel l like I have to know a murderer.
One of my best friends is 100% convinced that he can get away with murder. I mean, this guy has been bringing it up when he’s drunk for almost a decade. I’m pretty sure he has killed at least one homeless guy at this point. Don’t do it though, Alex. It’s not worth the trouble. Just ask Aaron Hernandez.
Q: So I started seeing a girl on a regular basis (sober), something I never would’ve done in college. My family knows and continues to bug me about meeting her and won’t stop talking about her. My question is this: what’s the time table on introducing the person you’re seeing to your parents? Does he/she have to be a potential “the one” in order to get to meet your parents once you’re out of college?
Every relationship is different, but she definitely doesn’t have to be “the one” to meet your family. Quit being a pussy and take her home to mom and dad, unless she has a bunch of facial piercings and tattoos and shit. In that case, hide her away until you’re absolutely certain she is the real deal, because your mom is going to hate you forever.
Q: In college I used to black out a lot and there was a 50% chance that I would piss the bed if I did. I used to be able to play it off and just blame it on being in college. Plus, a few of my other friends would occasionally piss themselves. No big deal back then. People got used to it. But now that I am 26 years old, and four years removed from college, I still have those random debauchery nights like New Years which happens to coincide with my birthday (New Years Eve baby). I have pissed myself three times in the last year (which is HUGE improvement from college), however it is still rather embarrassing. Am I the only one this happens to postgrad and do you have any advice for me other than to stop drinking which will not happen?
—Dan in inner city Houston
I know a lot of sickos like you, Dan. The key is to make sure you go to the bathroom right before you fall asleep. Maybe buy some rubber sheets. I’m not going to tell you to stop drinking, because that’s just silly, but maybe drink less beer and more liquor so there’s less liquid for you to dispense all over yourself in the middle of the night. I can’t believe I just suggested that someone who clearly has a drinking problem should try and drink more liquor. Seek professional help, you bed-wetting clown.
Q: Is it ok to bring Cottonelle toilet wipes to work and stash them in the corporate bathroom to ensure clean wipes?
—Andrew in Dallas, TX
What are you, an infant? Is your little bum so sensitive that you need to feel the cold comfort of a wet wipe after each battle with the toilet? I guess it’s fine that you have the asshole of a newborn baby, but don’t share this information with anyone if you want to be respected by real men with real assholes.
Q: I really appreciate you offering people this great outlet for postgraduate advice. I’ve been growing increasingly concerned for my mental health over the past few months. It’s just that my job forces me to tuck my metaphorical balls at the door every morning. I feel like a caged animal with no release. Everyday for lunch I pick up a combo meal and head home. Upon walking through the door of my dogshit one-bedroom apartment, I immediately crack a beer, strip off my clothes and masturbate straight into a potted plant while standing. I only have an hour lunch but it’s all I can do to get some freaking relief. I realize this is an odd ritual. For the love of God, what are some healthy ways to feed my man psyche?
—Jeff in Seattle, WA
Any job that is making you miserable enough to jerk off into a potted plant is not worth having. Quit that fucking job, Jeff. Quit it now, and throw that plant out before you cause some weird hybrid human-plant monster to come into the world and destroy us all.
Q: Your beloved Texans are playing tonight on Monday Night Football. Give us a score prediction.
—Stu in Houston, TX
Philip Rivers is garbage, and Brian Cushing feeds on the blood of the innocent. Texans 31, Chargers 13.