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Bitter, Bitter

I am about to marry a caring and intelligent man, an amazing lover, a total stud, beyond well endowed, someone who “gets” me. Here’s the problem: I have a ferocious sex drive, to the point where three to five times a day is good and more is better. He has an appetite to match. Despite my sublime satisfaction… I love toys. I like them for when he’s gone on business and also to use with him. This never seemed to be a big deal, but the other day he freaked out and said he doesn’t want me to buy them anymore.

I feel like his request is TOTALLY off base. I’m 100 percent monogamous, but a toy is a toy is a toy! Where is this coming from?

Blushing Anonymous Bride

So you’re getting married, BAB, to an amazing man with a massive cock.

How nice for you. How nice for...

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...em> So you’re getting married, BAB, to an amazing man with a massive cock. How nice for you. How nice for everyone. Just one problem: He doesn’t want you to slap away at yourself with sex toys. Actually, two problems: I don’t give a shit. You’ve caught me in a foul mood, BAB. I’m not up for dropping everything and crafting a response that offers you some insight into your fiancé’s insecurities, goes on to emphasize that getting married shouldn’t have to mean sacrificing your sexual autonomy (unless that turns you on), before winding things up with a stirring mini-sermon about the necessity of compromise in any long-term relationship. I just can’t be bothered today, BAB. You see, state supreme courts in New York and Washington handed down blatantly bigoted rulings against gay marriage in July and I’m kind of pissed at the fact that you get to marry your big-dicked boyfriend but I can’t marry mine. And it doesn’t help that the decisions were so fucking stupid, either. After decades of being told that gay people were unfit for marriage because our relationships are unstable, the supremes in New York ruled that marriage can be reserved solely for straights because, really, it’s actually straight relationships that are “all too often casual or temporary.” (Were they reading my mail?) The supremes in Washington ruled that since only straights have children then, by golly, only straights should be allowed to marry. Gay couples and gay couples with kids? Hey, fuck ’em! Straight people who are infertile, unwilling to have kids, or too old to have kids? Hey, they get in on a heterotechnicality! Look, BAB, I hope the fiancé calms down about your toys, something he might do if you give him some measure of control over them (let him pick out toys for you; swear to use no toy that’s bigger than his mighty dick), but that’s really the best I can do for you this week. Sorry. I’m a gay Roman Catholic. Some of my Catholic friends are a bit awkward about it, but by and large it’s my non-Catholic gay friends who have the biggest beef. As far as many of them are concerned, the money I put into the collection basket is going to some sort of Anti-Gay Civil Liberties Union. I take my religion seriously, but I’m not a fundamentalist: I don’t take something as gospel just because a man in a dress in Rome says it is. Please remind people that many gay men are deeply religious and happy about it. We don’t need our fellow fags diagnosing us as secretly self-loathing, so much as we need their support and respect. Gay Roman Catholic You can’t resent other gay men—saner gay men—for thinking that you might take as gospel every morsel of crap that falls from the thin lips of that “man in a dress in Rome,” GRC. The Catholic Church has been busily “reimposing doctrinal discipline,” as they say, ever since JPII plopped his clenched butt down on the Throne of Peter. So while it’s nifty that you don’t believe being Catholic means signing off on every idiot thing the pope says, the head of your church disagrees with you. And I’m sorry, GRC, but the money you put in the collection plate does fund, in part, an Anti-Gay Civil Liberties Union. It’s only natural that your non-Catholic gay friends would be curious about how you reconcile your Catholicism with your Cocksuckicism. If you want to get pissy at anyone, GRC, get pissy at all those religious leaders, Catholic or hell-bound heretics, who have worked so hard to make religiosity and sexual freedom seem like mutually exclusive phenomena. Speaking of pissy Catholics: A couple of months ago I sent a big chunk of ITMFA dough off to Bob Casey, the Democrat running against Senator Rick “Frothy Mix” Santorum in Pennsylvania. It was the maximum personal contribution—$2,100. That donation didn’t sit well with some Savage Love readers, as Casey is anti-choice. “Electing one or two pro-life Dems is the price we’re going to have to pay to put reliably pro-choice Dems in positions of power all over the Senate,” I wrote back in June. “[Voting] for Casey, or sending a contribution to Casey, is a pragmatic, progressive, pro-choice bank shot.” Well guess what? Jake Perry, Casey’s campaign finance director, called me last week with some bad news: Bob Casey was sending my check back to me. Casey is worried that Santorum’s flying monkeys will spot my name on his campaign-finance reports and raise holy hell about it. And Casey didn’t want to wind up debating the merits of the frothy mix—still the number-one result when you Google “santorum”—with Senator Santorum. I’m miffed—wouldn’t you be?—but seeing as I’ve asked my overwhelmingly pro-choice readers to be pragmatic, swallow hard, and support Bob Casey, I’m going to be pragmatic myself, swallow harder, and support Bob Casey whether he wants me to or not. So what if Bob Casey doesn’t want to take my dirty money? (Or I should say, so what if Bob Casey doesn’t want to be seen taking my dirty money. Perry suggested names of some independent groups in Pennsylvania working to elect Casey, groups that might be willing to take my dirty money.) I still want Casey to beat the lube-and-fecal-matter-splattered pants off Santorum this November. That’s why I’m sending the $2,100 Casey spurned to Philadelphians Against Santorum. (PAS is not one of the groups that the Casey camp suggested.) Got some dough to spare? Help defeat Rick Santorum this November by making a donation at www.phillyagainstsantorum.org. In last week’s column you used the term Official Discussion, or OD, to describe the conversation where a couple sits down and discusses their couplehood. But a good term for that conversation already exists: DTR, which stands for “define the relationship.” Usage: “I thought we were just going to hang out, but then she turned it into a DTR.” It can be a verb, too: “I need to DTR him and find out what’s what.” This term is widespread at—are you ready for this?—Brigham Young University. It’s quite handy, and surely it doesn’t only apply to young heterosexual Mormons. Abbreviations Are Awesome I agree, AAA: DTR is in every way superior to OD. Thanks for bringing it to my attention. mail@savagelove.net