Two weeks later and the tide of letters about vaginal hygiene shows no sign of ebbing. Reader Danny stresses the power of a little bit of musk down under: "For many guys, harmless visual stimuli aren't all that stimulating. A lot of men need those pheromones in order to be ready." Reader Kevin has had his run-ins with "spicy" (very diplomatic, no?) ladies and so suggests a few minutes in the hot tub. "Not only a relaxing prelude, a naked romp (and a visual check of the goods in advance), but even just 10 minutes in a 104 F tub should soak the nastiest smeg clean away."
The "nastiest smeg." Nice.
But Reader Clean Freak had the most interesting take on the subject. "I love being with women who are freshly shaven (oh man that is a turn-on), wearing something sexing [sic]. I love a woman to wear white sweat pants." Apparently Mr. Freak wants to date Mariah Carey.
So what have we learned from this little exercise? Well, we've discovered that some men like a little stank on their snatch, while others prefer something less ripe. Still others ache for the bald beav/dubious fashion statement. In short, we've learned, different smellas for different fellas. (Sorry!) And that is the last I'm going to write on the topic. I am, however, open to queries on the matter of ball sweat, smegma, and "fumunda cheese." Ahem.
On to this week's letter:
I'm currently trying to figure out why guys say they want a nice girl who treats them right and makes them feel special, but then value and reward lying sluts who cheat on them! My past two boyfriends told me all about how hard they worked to provide their exes with expensive presents and the good life, but neither could manage to do that for me! I'm honest, faithful, and understanding of the usual male foibles, but that's gotten me nowhere. All my exes ever did for me was quit working and mooch off me until I kicked their butts to the curb! They aren't lying when they say nice girls finish last.
I'll tell you why—because men are stupid.
This condition is universal. I get letters from men constantly, bemoaning the fact that their jackass jerky friends always score, while they—the dreaded nice guy—consistently get nowhere. I'll tell you what I tell them: Quit being so nice. By that I don't mean you should mold yourself into an asshole, but quit being so damned accommodating. There is a world of difference between being polite and being a patsy.
The man (or woman) who rants on about how they're always taken advantage of and how all their exes are crazy/manipulative/cruel is someone to watch out for. There's a reason all their exes are this way—because crazy is what they like. They can try and deny it, but that's where their heads are at, whether they want to cop to it or not.
At first they're all relieved to be dating someone who doesn't pilfer their wallet or fuck their best friend, but eventually, they'll get bored with you. Because you're not a maniac. And where does that leave you? Nowhere, that's where.
People who talk about their exes constantly are to be avoided. When that talk is all negative (or, on the other side of the coin, overly positive—"I miss her!"), it's time to go bye-bye. I have learned this firsthand many times. I'm thinking in particular of one young gentleman who kept gushing about how happy he was to have finally met someone so sane and smart (believe it or not, he was speaking of me). To hear him tell it, all his exes were psychotic shrews. He just wanted a nice girl and was so pleased to have finally found one. I wore a stupid smile for days. We had great dates, hours-long phone conversations . . . we were kindred spirits. And then we had sex. And he never called again. I finally figured out why all his exes were nuts—he'd driven them there.
There are plenty of sane men who are looking for the same. You just have to train yourself to find them.
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