Paternity, Pubes, Perfection

...couldn’t tell you who the father was.” Nancy’s company has–believe it or not–handled cases exactly like the one you’ve described, TL. Just how common is it for dumb sluts to get knocked up by male twins? “It happens,” said Nancy. “I wouldn’t say this sort of thing happens on a daily basis, but we know of other cases like it.” If there’s no way of determining which twin is the father, how do courts decide who has to pay child support? “Some courts have ordered both of the twins to split child support,” said Nancy, “and in others, paternity was proved when one of the twins demonstrated that he couldn’t be the father for some other reason, such as being out of the country at time of conception.” Finally, while I had Nancy on the phone, I had to ask if the Analytical Genetic Testing Center was responsible for any of those enormous “Who’s the Daddy?” billboards found in poorer neighborhoods. “No, those are not ours,” Nancy said. “A company out of Texas is responsible for most of those billboards. We think they’re in poor taste.” I’ve been dating a guy casually for a few weeks, and the first time I went over to his house to hang out, I was in the bathroom and noticed chunky skid marks in his toilet. (He lives alone.) I was disgusted but gave him the benefit of the doubt because I had dropped by unexpectedly. The next time I went over, about a week later, there were more nasty skid marks in the toilet! I am extremely turned off and don’t know how to tell him that cleanliness is important to me and the lack of it is killing our romance! Any advice? On the Skids If this guy grew up with a lot of brothers or lived in a frat house, he may feel that getting all of his excrement into the toilet is something of an accomplishment. Boys gone feral have been known to leave skid marks in their beds, on banisters, and on couches. But skid marks in the toilet? Jesus, lady, at least his crap is in the toilet. But, hey, if it disturbs you so much that you’ve considered dumping this guy, fire an upbeat, good-humored warning shot. Tell him skid marks bother you, buy him a toilet brush, and tell him what it’s for. If the skid marks don’t fade away, well, then he’s an inconsiderate slob, and you have good cause to dump him. A while ago I got my black hair dyed deep red. This was accomplished by bleaching, and then glazing. I was wondering–since I liked the look so much and it seemed to complement my skin tone so well (I’m Asian)–about getting my pubic hair similarly dyed. So, Dan, do you know where, in the Baltimore or Washington area, one can go to get his/her pubic hair safely dyed wild and exciting colors? Flashy Snatch “We can do it,” said Neal, of Neal’s, The Hair Studio, located at 856 Park Avenue in Baltimore’s Mount Vernon neighborhood. “The problem with dying that area is that the hair is much coarser and darker than the hair on your head. In most cases, we have to pre-lighten, which means we have to bleach the area in order to remove the original pigment, and only then can we add the pigment the client wants.” Since the skin in that area is sensitive, or so Neal tells me, brace yourself for some discomfort. “Bleach can burn and blister. You can burn your skin so badly that hair won’t grow back. To protect you, we put some base on the skin, an oil base, so the bleach doesn’t irritate the skin too much, but you will experience some discomfort.” The lighter a person’s hair, the easier it is to dye his/her pubes. “So if you have dark hair, or Asian hair, or ethnic hair, that means we have to use a double process, or sometimes triple.” Since you’re Asian, FS, your period of discomfort will be long and grueling. Do hairdressers who dye pubes get combat pay? “No, and not everyone will do it, so be sure to mention that you want this particular thing done if you call to make an appointment. And we would also have to make sure one of our private rooms was available for your appointment,” Neal concluded. “We couldn’t do that kind of work in any of our public areas.” Thank you for your response to Good-Looking Guy, the 21-year-old Mr. Perfect who wrote lamenting his lack of a love life. I am convinced there are thousands of men out there as deluded as that guy. I dated a Mr. Perfect during my sophomore year in college. He was tall, handsome, sensitive, artistic, and sincere, and I spent about two months being dazzled by how tall, handsome, sensitive, artistic, and sincere this guy was. Then I realized that we never had a conversation that wasn’t about him. We spent hours dissecting his past relationships, his mother, his roommates, his hair, his career aspirations. We never talked for more than five minutes about the weather, politics, culture, or my life. I’m not sure if he ever knew my last name. Like GLG, my Mr. Perfect also refused to have sex, claiming that he wanted to make sure it was “really special” when it did happen, but he was willing to spend hours making out, which left me feeling incredibly frustrated all the goddamn time. On the outside, things looked great. I was the envy of all my friends. “He’s such a great guy! You’re so lucky!!” Finally, after three months, I couldn’t take it anymore. I broke up with him. He was stunned. I used the “you’re just too good for me” and “you’re the settling-down type and I’m not looking for that” lines, too, just like the woman who dumped GLG. In reality, I had reached the point where I wanted to stab him in the eye with a fork every time he opened his mouth. Years later I met a pudgy guy with a great sense of humor and the ability to talk for hours about the finer points of Hong Kong action cinema. I jumped his bones on our first date. I married him a year and a half ago. The Mr. Perfects of the world need to get a clue: Women aren’t looking for self-absorption, no matter how wonderful the package appears from the outside. Found What I Was Looking For Thanks for sharing, FWIWLF. letters@savagelove.net