Fox screenshot

Anthony from Atlanta, GA asks:

What would be the worst fictional company to work for?

Empire Entertainment. Have you ever worked in a family run business? Nope. No. Nawl.

What’s Barbara in HR going do for me when my problem is with a Lyon? Not a damn thing that’s what.

Jonah from Pittsburgh, PA asks:

The girl I’m with is a lot quieter in the bedroom than my last chick. She says I please her but I’m not sure I believe that’s true. I actually care about her so it’s starting to make me feel some type of way. How do I know if she’s faking it?


Jonah, I don’t think you’ve realized the enormity of what you’ve revealed to me. I think you think you are asking me one thing but you’re really asking me another.

Because despite the strength and length of the orgasm on our end, if you’re inside of her, it should feel relatively the same way to you every time. The female orgasm, besides increased lubrication, only expresses itself in one way—as a relatively prolonged (like 27 seconds on average) spasming of the vaginal walls, ya know, to facilitate pulling your sperm into her cervix. So on your end, depending on her laxity or dedication to her Kegels or levels wetness or whether or not you’re wearing a condom, it can feel like anything from a fluttering on your penis to gripping of sorts.

So if you can “feel” her, then you should be able to feel her orgasm.


You haven’t.

Ever, it seems.


I guess the second lesson here today is that, sometimes it’s better to be left in some doubt than to get an answer and have all doubt removed huh?


That’s a downer, but here’s the brightside. Your new chick being quieter bodes well. It means she’s focused on actively and selfishly (bravo!) chasing her own pleasure and not so much trying to impress you with theatrics.

Wayne from Washington, D.C. asks:

Without Googling it, describe how (American) football is played. A few of us made a wager based on your answer.


What makes you think I don’t know it? And even better, what makes you think I won’t Google it? Anyway, I get where this is going and I feel like you’re trying to embarrass me. But fine, I’ll bite and I won’t Google it.

So there’s this sacred ball, a totem really, made of pigskin. Still? And there are these two tribes in spandex and facemasks warring over disputed territory. And they meet on the field of battle, the land in question, amidst much fanfare and Gatorade and ESPN camera crews.

And then there’s a kickoff.



So the tribes line up, facing their opponents like the British army and their combatants stupidly used to do before smart Americans “invented” guerilla warfare (having learned it from the Native Americans or was that from the Art of War? I’m not a historian or a sports fan!). All I know is hiding and evading your opponents makes more sense than lining up to get knocked down. But I digress.


Anyway, there’s a kickoff and a snap, pop and crackle, and a scrimmage and it’s all on the gridiron and according to that voiceover guy from those football classic programs “it’s a game of inches”. Meow.

There’s a first down and a second down. And a third down and fourth down. And here’s where yards, not inches surprisingly, are won and lost.

It’s the only war with quarters.

And then TOUCHDOWN! A term that makes more sense to me when applied to the safe landing of, I dunno, a billion dollar spacecraft.


And then a winner is declared and effigies are hung and blood is shed in the square.

Listen. In my defense, football was never big in my household. My dad watched soccer and cricket and basketball. And my high school didn’t have a team. And I went to a state school and I had a student club to run. It was a big club! Plus I had studying to do. And yes I dated a guy in college for two years who played for Ohio State but he loved me for me dammit!

Yes, I’m making excuses!

Anyway, fuck you and your wager Wayne!

It’s like you found the one chick that can’t drive to use as an example to your friends so you can say “see, I told you women can’t drive.”


Joel from San Diego, CA asks:

I’ve been on Tinder and Soulswipe for a couple months now but I haven’t been able parlay these conversations I’m having into actual dates. We swipe right. We talk. We talk some more. We exchange numbers. We text. Then I ask to meet up and its crickets. What should I do?

If they’re swiping right initially and it’s dead in the water after the initial conversations then you’re definitely boring them. So, you’re boring. There’s no cure for that.


I can’t make you interesting Joel!

They haven’t even met you yet and they’re over it.

Why haven’t you managed to cloak the tedium that is your personality behind a blanket of mystery like most men?


Can’t you pretend to be stoic and tortured?


I guess that’s hard to do via a Tinder chat with a stranger.


I’ll help you get the date because if they’re swiping right, then at least you’re cute or like photogenic. Which is just as good as cute these days since most people live their life on the Gram. And pretty couple pictures for the Gram is every basic person’s relationship goal anyway.


Now that I think about it, you might be a catch.

So here’s the key to talking to strangers in any forum.

Talk to these girls like you already know them and they already like you.

And ask to meet up sooner. Much sooner. Before you even exchange numbers or real names, tell her about the minutiae of meeting the deadline for last month’s deliverables.