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.
Q: My son is 3 years old. I told my neighbor to bring his son (about the same age) to come over and play with him this past weekend. I was sitting on the couch, drinking and watching football, when I realized I hadn’t seen my son in over an hour, so I wanted to check to make sure the kids were alright. I couldn’t find them anywhere until I checked the bathroom. I opened the door and there they were, standing with their shorts off, flicking each other’s penises (hopefully that’s the plural form of penis). I told them to put their shorts on and took my neighbor’s son home. Later, when I asked my son what he was doing, he said it feels good when you “flick your peanut.” How would you have handled this situation? Should I have spanked my child for flicking another child’s peanut? Is my child gay? Please help me. I haven’t been able to sleep all week.
—Jim in Seattle
Look man, I’m not Dr. Phil or anything, but I think you’re okay here. Kids are weirdos. They don’t know what’s going on with their little weenuses, but they want to find out, so they rub them up against everything in your house, stick them into refrigerated jars of jelly, and get their friends to flick them. The mere fact that he still calls it his “peanut” is a pretty good sign. This kid isn’t old enough to distinguish between the words “penis” and “peanut,” much less develop sexual tendencies. He’s just a miniature human trying to figure out why he’s got an eleventh finger coming out of his midsection. But if for some reason he turns 37 years old and is still flicking other men’s penis heads, that’s okay. If Mackelmore and Lady Gaga have taught us anything, it’s that you’re born a penis flicker; it’s not a choice.
Q: I sat down to pinch one off this afternoon with out looking at the
toilet paper situation. I looked down and saw this:
Yep, all the toilet paper had been exhausted. How big of an amateur move is this? Should I ask the person shitting next to me to toss over a roll? Should I wait him out then waddle over to another stall and wipe my ass in there? Please advise.
—Ted in Beaumont
I don’t really have an answer here. I just thought the question and situation were hilarious. The solution is all about personal preference, I suppose. If you’re cool with admitting to another man that you’re the type of blithering idiot who forgets to check and see if there is any toilet paper before you unleash hell upon a toilet, then go ahead and ask for a roll. But if you have any sense of pride, you’ll either wait for the bathroom to empty and waddle to another stall, or pull some ninja shit and crawl under or over your stall to an unoccupied one.
Q: I am a 25-year-old postgrad and my girlfriend is 22 and a senior in college. Is it weird to go with her to her sorority formal this year? She’s really fucking hot (out of my league hot), and if it’s not me as her date it will be some “friend” she will most likely end up banging.
—Matt in Jacksonville
Yeah, it’s weird to go to her sorority formal. You’re a 25-year-old man. You don’t belong there. You belong on the couch with a 12-pack of Budweiser and Seinfeld reruns. Don’t do this to yourself. Let her go with that much younger, much better looking, much more physically fit friend that can treat her the way she deserves to be treated. Who are you kidding? Don’t be that creepy, old fuck who shows up to the sorority formal and has to answer questions like “How old are you?” and “What year did you graduate?” all night long. You’re humiliating that hot babe of which you are not worthy. If you have to ask, you’re not cool enough to pull it off or lock her down. Fuck outa here, Matt. Clown.
Q: Lately, I’ve had a lot of trouble wiping my ass. My arms, hands, and asshole work fine, but the quarter century of hair that has grown throughout my crack is now serving as an impediment to proper pooping. It separates the turd upon its exit, like a homemade pasta machine, and spreads it horrifically upon wiping. It’s like trying to wipe water off a mop using only a paper towel on one side. My company said they would start charging me soon, both for the amount of toilet paper used and the amount of time it takes me to wipe post-poo. The question is: do I trim my butt bush to enable better friction between my asshole and the toilet paper or do I give up on wiping for good?
A homemade pasta machine? You disgusting bastard. Buy yourself a goddamn electric razor and do some ass jungle maintenance before you ruin your life. How do you let your taint fuzz get so out of hand that your company is actually questioning you about it? Why are they monitoring your toilet paper usage? So many questions.
Q: One of the biggest issues when going out to lunch with coworkers is splitting the tab. If I’m lucky, I’ll go out with three other guys, we’ll get similar meals, and throwing in credit cards when the check comes isn’t a huge deal. However, I’ve noticed that with women, something about missing a Y-chromosome makes it incredibly fucking difficult to split a tab. For example: went out with a few people, similar meals, but two people got Cokes. The lone woman in the group proceeded to grab the pen and write down exactly how much everyone owed. This frustrates me to no end. Is there a way around this? I usually just say, “Let’s split it and I’ll add in some extra tip.” For the love of God, I can’t imagine what it’s like if a group of 10 women go out to eat at once.
In summation, what’s the etiquette on splitting the bill?
I’ve got a buddy that loses his mind when people aren’t cool with splitting the bill evenly. In order to avoid the situation, he texts every single person we’re going out to eat with ahead of time and clearly states the protocol. Basically, it’s your duty as a reasonably intelligent human being to order somewhere around the same amount of money worth of food and drinks as everyone else in your party. If you’re going to be having one Sprite and not eat, notify the waiter ahead of time so he can keep your tab separately. Likewise, if you’re going to be ordering $500 worth of illegal elephant testicles, notify your waiter so he can keep your tab separately. There is nothing worse than eating a lovely meal with fifteen other people only to have one dipshit say, “All I had was an appetizer!” when the check comes, and demand to pay only his or her fair share. That person is a cheap fun-sucker, and should be treated as such until they change their ways.
Q: I was curious if this is normal postgrad evolution or what the fuck is going on with me. Every time I log on to Facebook or Twitter, I just see things that I probably would have that were funny maybe a year ago when I was still in college. However, now I just think that all these idiots who think drinking on weeknights and doing drugs for fun are a bunch of tard lords. I mean seriously, I’m worried that maybe it’s just me that sucks now, and I’m pretty sure that’s what it is. Should I be worried about this or what?
The bad news is you suck now. The good news is you suck now. Around a year after you’ve graduated, you’re supposed to let go of that collegiate lifestyle and start sucking. It’s okay not to like yourself. That’s what adulthood is all about. If you continued to like the same stuff and do the same things you did in college, you’d end up a miserable alcoholic with a terrible job and little to no self-respect. Don’t be the guy that takes it out on the college kids that are still drinking on weeknights and doing drugs for fun, though. That’s just jealously making you look like a bitch. You do your thing; they’ll do theirs.
Q: I hadn’t shaved since last Wednesday morning. I woke up this morning and I was pretty scruffy, so I decided to be professional and shave. I went
over my face twice so I thought I was fine. I get to the office, I’m rubbing my
face and discover this…
As you can see, I have a little predicament going on here.
A. This patch is annoying as shit and I cant stop touching it.
B. It’s completely noticeable.
What should I do here? Should I run next door to the gas station and grab a shitty 2-dollar razor and risk cutting myself with the shitty blade? Should I leave it alone and not get up for the rest of the day?
I am so fucking stupid. I’m hiding at my desk, but I need your help.
—Ted in Beaumont
Ted, you’ve had a rough few days. Just go to the gas station at lunch and grab a razor. That was a solid idea. See, you didn’t need my help at all! In the meantime, don’t talk to any hot secretaries or your boss. Next time, when you finish shaving, run your fingers across your entire face and neck to make sure you didn’t miss any patches, and then slap the fuck out of yourself because you’re a moron.