Hola amigos, I know it’s been a long time since I rapped at ya, but I’ve been busy plagiarizing satirical newspapers. I’ve also been working out some column ideas, and guess what? You’re the lucky people who get to read teasers/drafts. And, if you’re feeling charitable, offer ideas/comments/criticisms or whatever.

I was at a club the other night, when a guy offered to buy me a drink. When I accepted, he thought it gave him the right to hook up with me! When I declined, he took the drink back, even after I’d already had a sip! Is this normal? What was he planning on doing with it?
–Sarah, 20, New York

Let’s start off with the obvious question. Why didn’t you hook up with him? You’re not getting any younger, missy, and your mother and I are this close to blowing your dowry money on a coke-filled vacation in Columbia with Hitler and

Sorry. I let Paul Frank write the first part of that response. No, he shouldn’t have taken back his drink, but the real question is why the fuck would anybody want to go to a New York club? Is it so you could stand in line for an hour, so you could MAYBE pay 15 dollars for the privilege of being smashed into a crowded pen with hundreds of sweaty tarts wearing tiny halter tops and stage makeup? Was it for the privilege of buying watered-down vodka from some wannabe Ryan Phillipe bartender who has half his shirt undone and enough product in his hair to get half the world’s environmentalists to commit seppuku? A drink, no doubt, to make the prospect of having some stripe-shirted colostomy bag rub his semi-erection around your miniskirted ass until you give in and toss him a sympathy makeout?

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What just happened? I blacked out for a second there. Anyway, he didn’t take his drink back to give to some other girl. It was more about power than anything else. By buying you a drink, more than likely overpriced, he ceded a lot of power to you. When he took it back, he was able to save a little bit of face, any deny you the satisfaction of that delicious, delicious nectar. He clearly saw the drink as a binding contract in a way that he shouldn’t have. In general, buying a drink for a girl is understood to be a financial gamble used to begin to get to know a girl, not an invitation to lick her tastebuds.

Which brings me to this: men, please stop buying women drinks. You’re putting yourself in a hole, and not even the good kind. You’ve already simultanoeusly put the woman on a pedestal and demeaned her to the level of prostitute, and neither of those things is going to get you laid more than being able to be reasonably composed in conversation.

Ah, what am I saying? Fuck you you clubgoing asshat.

I’d like to take this opportunity to encourage you all to visit my friend’s blog. This is officially link week at Deus X Machina, and today’s is a good one. It’s rare to read sexual writing that’s both candid and well-written, and even rarer to find those things with a likable author. I suppose likable could be pronounced with a short i in that last sentence and it would still fit…

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