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a Expert Dating Advice column by HogWild

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Q47: Here's my problem Hog.  I have this friend that likes to smooch lots of babes.  What can he do to keep this under control? --Roscoe from the south side

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Q48: My mom got a hold of my grade report and she totally flipped. I’m in college now and I don’t think I need a lecture. Any advice?  -B.R. at U.Dayton

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Q49: So I'm sitting down at my desk, working diligently at my marketing report for tomorrow, when I decide to check out the Hogster's page.  I'm diggin around, looking for the funny part, and I reach down to scratch my nutz.  Then my boss walks up behind me and scares the tish out of me so I jump forward out of my seat.  As I jump up, though, my jammy gets stuck under the drawer and jammed into the desk when I fortuitously manage to shut the drawer with my leg when I jumped up.  I think the bleeding has stopped, but my wiener hurts and I can't reach the phone or get the drawer open.  I'm going to poop myself if I don't get to the bathroom soon, Hogster...  --Stubby in Cleveland

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Q50:  My boyfriend refuses to lose weight or even start an exercise program.  I haven't had sex with him in over a month because of it.  What gives?  Why won't he get on the treadmill?  --Girl (with Fat-Ass Boyfriend) in Boston  

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Q51:  Dear Hogwild, I have this question that may be gross, embarrassing or just downright silly but I'll ask it just the same as I really need some answers. My girlfriend I guess has some sort of foot fetish as she loves to give me foot massages -- trouble is, she likes to do it right after I come home from work and my feet are, well, sweaty and smelly. The sweat and smell I can do something about but what is so persistent are these sandy, fluffy pasty things I see between my toes when I take off my shoes and socks. A pal of mine called this toe-jam: so what exactly is toe-jam? What causes this to crop up between my toes and what can I do about this? Thanks a million for your help--  Harry Javila

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Q47: Here's my problem Hog.  I have this friend that likes to smooch lots of babes.  What can he do to keep this under control? --Roscoe from the south side

Easy. He can put gasoline on his lips. Bims HATE kissing a guy with unleaded premium breath! I wouldn’t recommend drinking it though as severe death can occur. If that sounds too extreme, have him try gargling Onion Soup prior to leaving the house. This will certainly help “keep him under control.” Or, get one of those temporary cold sores. They’re like temporary tattoos only more scab-like.

Or if you’re more literal about keeping him “under control” I would cast the following spell:

“Ooga Booga Roocha Smoocha

Hoochie-Coochie Boogie-Woogie

Kiss a bim and I’ll cut your penis off”

This one tends to really work! Especially when your wife chants it while kneeling before her Lorena Bobbit shrine. (And yeah, the shrine has a bunch of half-cut candles.)

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Q48: My mom got a hold of my grade report and she totally flipped. I’m in college now and I don’t think I need a lecture. Any advice?  -B.R. at U.Dayton

Yes sir, or ma’am. I hate when you nubs (or bims) don’t tell me your gender. It gets me all confused. Anywayzers, I suggest you give your MOM a report card. That way she’ll know how it feels to have your performance analyzed.

For instance, your report card for Mom may look like:

Listening Skills:  D

            need to do less talking and pay more attention

Supportiveness: F-

In 3rd grade you told me I couldn’t be a Fireman because I had scrawny little girl arms

Cooking C-

            Could use improvement and creativity. After the 4th consecutive time it is no longer considered leftovers—it’s called trash scraps. Also, you were wrong for insisting that the milk’s expiration date was merely a “suggestion”

Nagging  A+

            Your complimentary Hostile Reminder Service is an inspiration to Naggers and Wenches everywhere

Mom will love this tactic as you throw back years of inadequate parenting in her face. Basically, it's her fault that your grades are sorry. If only she had attended those parent-teacher conferences in High School instead of turning tricks all night.

She’ll forget all about your silly report card while she’s setting up the stool and noose. Now depending upon your relationship with mom, you might want to throw in an affectionate hug. Or you could always offer to tighten the rope.  

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Q49: So I'm sitting down at my desk, working diligently at my marketing report for tomorrow, when I decide to check out the Hogster's page.  I'm diggin around, looking for the funny part, and I reach down to scratch my nutz.  Then my boss walks up behind me and scares the tish out of me so I jump forward out of my seat.  As I jump up, though, my jammy gets stuck under the drawer and jammed into the desk when I fortuitously manage to shut the drawer with my leg when I jumped up.  I think the bleeding has stopped, but my wiener hurts and I can't reach the phone or get the drawer open.  I'm going to poop myself if I don't get to the bathroom soon, hogster...  --Stubby in Cleveland

And I’m going to poop myself if I have to keep listening to this rambling drivel! The only one who’s allowed to drivel nonsensically is ME! The REAL question here Stubby is WHY in the Heckers did feel you had to pull out your grapes in order to scratch them?

While behind a desk, you may feel a sense of security in your little cubicle. But it is not a bathroom. Post-it Notes are just that—NOTES. Not a wiping paper. And if you can’t understand that, understand that your cubicle is a bathroom stall without a DOOR. Thus, it is not the proper place to whip out Itchy and start to Scratchy--- got it?

You most likely could have relieved the searing sensation on your stinging sack with a quick “adjustment.” Or even a jammy juggle. A two time tug. At worst, utilized your ruler in an unprofessional manner. But you did NOT have to expose the TRUTH like that! You must suffer from some condition that is causing you severe discomfort that you would go to such embarrassment to surcease it.

I will rule out Testicular Acne because it of its rarity. However, you may be victim to what I call SSC. Or in medical terms, Super Sweaty Sack. This condition causes a nub’s testes to secrete astounding amounts of salty syrup over the skin. This leads to itching and rashing, as well as totally decreasing the patient’s chance of ever receiving oral sex.

What you need sir, is a sponge. Just wear the little guy under your grapes and each time it fills with the waste of your freaky hyper-glandular excess, just wring it out! Brilliant! Hog solves another one. NEXT!

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Q50:  My boyfriend refuses to lose weight or even start an exercise program.  I haven't had sex with him in over a month because of it.  What gives?  Why won't he get on the treadmill?  --Girl (with Fat-Ass Boyfriend) in Boston

GUTSKI!You haven’t had sex with him in over a month! Big deal! I’ve gone YEA--- uh, YEAH, yeah that is quite a stretch. But a nub can find other means to exercise his love muscle. Other ways to stroke the cue ball in the corner pocket. Other methods to squeeze the toothpaste from the tube. Uh, you get the idea.

But when it comes to cookin’ . . . most men can’t hack it. If you REALLY want your nub to respond, you MUST stop putting out in the kitchen. Now, this is a last-resort option. Because if it were me, and you threw down the apron, I’d be gone faster than college kids at a party that just tapped the last keg. So you must decide if this is worth risking your relationship over. If his appearance bothers you that much, than just date him for his F.E.P. (Future Earning Potential). If his FEP doesn’t outweigh (pun totally intended) his obesity, than put a fork in him. Just don’t give me that Bull that you really care about him and you’d rather live without him than live with him and watch him die of a heart attack. Please, you just don’t want to date a nub whose buttcheeks roll over the sides of the toilet. Totally understandable.

But, this actually could be all your fault. Maybe your cooking is TOO good. It’s like, if you’re a trapeze artist, or professional contortionist, and your man gets addicted to sex. Like, duh! So maybe you’re TOO good. Unless he’s been cheating on you. Going OUT to eat. Seein’ that trick Wendy. Or that ho Ruby Tuesday. Or that Mexican sleaze, Chi-Chi’s.

Hog caught in the Act! The forbidden PORK!But the real answer, is alas, always the most painful. That’s why people like to rationalize and make up stuff. Because it’s easier to handle than the hard truth. Most likely, the reason your nub won’t lose weight is because he is a lazy S.O.B. But so am I. But I also know one other hard truth. If I don’t maintain at least my current level of studliness, my bim might no longer be attracted to me. And that’s bad. Now, my bim has said all this crap about how she loves the “inner-me” the “real” me. But it ain't the “real” me she’s slappin’ while I’m wearing nothing but a cowboy hat and stirrups.

So here’s what you do. Tell him you care about him and that good stuff. Then tell him you want him to look his best. Tell him you will exercise with him. After every exercise reward him with something he wants. A foot rub, control of the remote, a night of freedom with a Thailand whore. You see, nubs are like dogs. Train them and they will behave. I admit it. I am a nub and I am like a dog. I wag my tail when I’m happy. I sometimes hump my hips against the side of the couch. Now if only I could lick my privates . . . 

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Q51:  Dear Hogwild, I have this question that may be gross, embarrassing or just downright silly but I'll ask it just the same as I really need some answers. My girlfriend I guess has some sort of foot fetish as she loves to give me foot massages -- trouble is, she likes to do it right after I come home from work and my feet are, well, sweaty and smelly. The sweat and smell I can do something about but what is so persistent are these sandy, fluffy pasty things I see between my toes when I take off my shoes and socks. A pal of mine called this toe-jam: so what exactly is toe-jam? What causes this to crop up between my toes and what can I do about this? Thanks a million for your help-- Harry Javila

First let’s deal with your Harry Javila. I used to have hairy Javila, but the bims kept complaining so I shaved it off. Second, a bim that gives you foot massages when you come home from work does NOT have a foot fetish, she’s just being “a GOOD WOMAN.” You are blessed to have such a fine girlfriend. If it were an actual fetish she’d be sucking your toes, stroking your toenails, and chewing on your calluses. If your bim is not cuddling up to your corns, then don’t worry about her having a fetish. I mean, does she make you get into her high heels before you get into bed? Does she paint your nails and call you Charlie?

You are a lucky man, Harry. Especially since she works your bunions even before you’ve washed your pedals. Most lucky indeed. I bet she’s also the kind of bim that isn’t distracted by your manly musk on a hot summer day when she’s grooming your grapes with her nose. That’s an awesome woman. You take care of her. As far as this toe-jam stuff—don’t worry about it. In fact, I farm the stuff. It’s like growing cotton. Each day I unplug the conglomeration of sock fabric, dirt, sweat, and blister juice and put it in a big jar. By the end of the week I’ve got enough crop for the little lady to knit me a sweater! And pickin’ foot cotton is almost as much fun as pickin’ lint out your belly button. Sometimes I get greedy and do both at the same time. Once I even made a small sculpture made entirely of bodily byproducts. With just some ear wax, toe-jam, belly lint, snot, and back hair I created a small version of Michelangelo’s David. I tried to get booked on Regis & Kathy Lee but from what I hear, Kathy nixed the deal because her cosmetics supplier said my ingredients violated their patents. Oh well.

You are one fortunate nub. Don’t blow it. Let her. JEREMY!!!! Stop telling me to say those crass things! You stupid big bloated  . . . . anyway, enjoy it. Because you could have it like me, where I have to rub my bim’s feet in order to get dinner.

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