Then again, his buddy might be gay. You could spend the evening with nothing to do but watch two hairy blokes go at it hammer and tongs, which wouldn’t be much fun. And what if you end up liking the other guy more than your boyfriend? Trust me, threesomes might look good on telly, but they’re usually more trouble than they’re worth.
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
My friend and I—both married men—have been reliving old times by going out drinking and chatting up women, but stopping before any actual infidelity takes place. We call them “dry runs,” because they give us the thrill of the chase without breaking any rules.
Is this wrong?
Michael, London Playing with matches is a lot of fun, Michael, but at some point your wig’s gonna catch fire. There’s just no way this can end well for you. One night you’ll have too many drinks, you’ll do a “dry run” on a woman whose beautiful and single, she’ll make the first move, and before you know it, you’ll be signing your divorce papers. You’re creating temptation for yourself, which means trouble is only two steps behind. Get a lapdance if you’re desperate for a quick thrill, or better yet, take the missus away for a dirty weekend.
DR. OZZY’S INSANE-BUT-TRUE STORIES If You Think Human Sex Is Weird… ¦ When a male bee, or drone, gets lucky, his balls literally fall off inside the virgin queen. This stops her getting knocked up by anyone else. It also hurts.
¦ If you think human blokes have it bad, spare a thought for male giraffes. For starters, sex is limited to a two-week period every year (the only time females are up for it). And it ain’t exactly much to look forward to, anyway: before any action takes places, the female has to make absolutely sure that her mate is “Mr Right.” She does this by pissing on his face.
¦ Female hyenas don’t just wear the trousers in their relationships—they even get boners. That’s ’cos they have a “pseudopenis,” which is basically a massive clitoris. I bet they have hairy armpits, too.
¦ Male bedbugs have gotta be the biggest bastards out there in the sex department. Instead of courting the female, or even bothering to give her a cuddle and feel her up a bit, he just stabs her in the chest with his spiky dick. Biologists have a term for it: “traumatic insemination.” It’s just fucking lazy, if you ask me.
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
I have an annoying habit of popping the champagne cork before the party gets under way. I’ve tried slowing down, and/or mentally re-tiling the kitchen to take my mind off things during the process, but no luck, alas. Any advice gratefully received.
Jezz, Hertfordshire Is this code for something? This is Dr. Ozzy you’re writing to, not the Archbishop of fucking Canterbury, so for God’s sake spit it out, man. If you mean what I think you mean, why not just get on with it quicker? It’ll give you and the missus more time to do the garden.
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
I have just turned 68 and have the opposite problem to your premature “cork popper” the other week. It doesn’t matter how racy my thoughts—say, Jennifer Aniston in a maid’s outfit—I still end up pumping away when the missus is ready for a cigarette.
What can I do?
Dave, Wales They have a word for this: “Anorgasmia.” There’s also another term, and it’s called “being 68 years old.” Unfortunately, as blokes get on a bit, everything to do with sex becomes difficult. If it’s any consolation, the most exciting thing that happens in my bedroom most nights is an episode of Law & Order. Having said that, you should get your prostate checked out, and also ask your doctor about the side-effects of any drugs you’re taking. Of course, you could also just be bored. Try thinking about Courteney Cox instead.
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
I have an embarrassing fetish (it’s surprisingly common). I want my girlfriend to put me in a diaper and treat me like a big baby. My girlfriend and I are compatible in every way, but I’m terrified to ask her about this. What would you do?
Anonymous, USA This one’s a bit far-out even for Dr. Ozzy. I mean, there’s plenty of time later in life to wear adult nappies, so why speed it up? Having said that, I had the opposite problem to you in my drinking days: Sharon was always telling me to wear nappies, ’cos I used to piss in the bed so often. I also used to shit my pants on a fairly regular basis, which ain’t very fucking nice. I suppose if you start doing the same thing, your girlfriend might make the same suggestion, saving you the whole “I want to be a big baby” conversation.
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
I’m 29 years old and have become increasingly dependant on seriously hardcore porn to get turned on. Is this going to ruin my performance with real women?
Anonymous, USA No. Women didn’t stop getting knocked up when the internet was invented—although maybe their husbands don’t pester them for sex as much, ’cos now they’ve got online filth on demand, 24 hours a day. The trouble is, even the XXX stuff gets boring very quickly: it’s not like there’s ever a surprise fucking ending. The trick is to ration your exposure, not try and find stronger and stronger stuff. If it ever gets to the point where there’s crapping or donkeys involved, trust me, you’ve gone too far. Otherwise stop worrying.
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
I’ve just returned from a bachelor party in Las Vegas. Being married with kids, however, I’m concerned that the stripper with whom I, er, “relaxed” in a private booth might have given me oral herpes—we didn’t do anything improper, although she did feed me strawberries and cream, mouth to mouth. Any words of wisdom?
Brian, Warrington Forget oral herpes, Brian, it sounds to me like you’ve come down with a classic case of married man’s guilt. That’s the problem with strippers: they don’t just take your dough, they also make you feel like the worst husband in the world the next morning. And if you think strippers are bad, by the way, try groupies: I used to get so out of my mind with guilt, I’d be down the doctor’s office every day of the week, thinking I had some new disease. Then I’d finally break down, tell Sharon everything, and I’d get a houseplant over the back of my head, which meant another visit to the doctor’s. As for the good old herpes: your GP will give you a test to see if you’ve got it, but the virus can lie dormant for years, so there’d be no telling if it was from the stripper or, say, an unwashed glass you picked up in a pub. I used to get outbreaks myself when I was stressed out or tired, but I haven’t had any for years. One thing I wouldn’t recommend is confessing to your missus. Believe me, it’ll only make your life worse.
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
