Advice

Miss Information

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Have a question? Email erin@nerve.com. Letters may be edited for length, content and clarity.

Dear Miss Information,

I have a special friend that I sex-cam with. We’ve never met in person. He wants to meet up and have me give him oral sex. He says it’s not cheating on his spouse. I disagree with him on that second one, but does the sex-camming itself constitute cheating? I need to know for my sake. I do not want to come between him and his wife. If it’s cheating, then I’ll stop. Watched One


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Dear Watched One,
Sex-camming with someone who’s not a professional — i.e., who’s employed through a multi-client website and getting a paycheck for displaying their naughty bits — absolutely is cheating. Not the worst kind of cheating, and nowhere near as horrific as your use of the term "special friend." (Hold on — donning surgical mask and swabbing keyboard down with multi-spectrum hospital-grade antiseptic — there, all set.) But still: not exactly relationship-appropriate behavior.
But why, Miss Info? You’re not touching the other person. How is that any different than looking at a spank movie? Well, for starters, watching clips and looking at pictures are one-way experiences. If all of a sudden Joanna Angel stops what she’s doing and invites you over to go down on her, chances are you’ve been stroking it for too long without a break. Time to unglue your fingers from your genitals and call your mom. Trim the hedges. Get some Chipotle.
This problem with this kind of relationship is that it has the opportunity to escalate. Which is what you’re seeing right now with your special friend. (BTW, can we just call him Frank?). "Frank" wants to go beyond the cyber stuff and move the party offline. It sounds like you have some serious qualms about that. I would give Frank the ol’ skeeve-ho and find a new friend to cam with. I know we’re not signing up to bring the casserole to the church social here. You’re horny, it’s not you who’s married, and sometimes it’s hard to find guys in this particular niche. Advertise up-front that you’ll only play with single men or those with informed partners. Don’t respond when rule-breakers contact you, even if they’re so hot your clit threatens to climb out of your panties and smack you in the teeth. If you do that, and diligently avoid all offline meet-ups, you should be able to camera-come until your heart’s content.

 

Dear Miss Information,

Long story short, I’ve been dating a complete fuckup. I stayed with him for three years and, in the interim, he got me pregnant, he engaged me (only to promptly embarrass me after I bought a ring and make it look like I made it all up in my head) and he cheated on me about nine times (that I know of). But I put up with it — and more — because we’ve known each other since we were younger, and I feel a certain allegiance to that.

Most recently, when we took time apart, he slept with his ex-girlfriend (who’s a whore — she cheated on him, which is why they broke up) and just as I had gotten pregnant (pre-breakup), he knocked this bitch up. Then she claims that it’s not his child (although we’re both five months and we both slept with him around the same time). Needless to say, with all this stress, I miscarried. She claims she aborted, but there’s no way to be sure whether it was his baby or not. And so we’ve broken up.

Here’s my question (because you’re obviously more sane than me). Should I take him back because I still love this kid with all my heart? Or should I just throw him to the dogs? And, if I have to get rid of him, how do I even begin to forget him? Crazy

Dear Crazy,
Reading your letter reminds me of how much English teachers have in common with shrinks and detectives. There are inkblots in our verb choices and clues in our prepositional phrases.
"He got me pregnant." No, you got yourself pregnant. At least 50% pregnant, anyway. Unprotected sex takes two people, unless you’re not telling me something and it was non-consensual.
"He engaged me." It sounds like you engaged yourself, Crazy. You bought the ring, and despite his backtracking, that still leads me to believe you had an active part.
There’s also your applications of words like "bitch" and "whore" to describe some poor woman who, like you, had the misfortune of getting mixed up with this mess of a man, whom you affectionately call "kid." I’m not sure what kind of name I’d assign to a nine-time cheater, but I’m assuming it would be something slightly less affectionate, like "Captain Out of My Life" or "Waste of Space Cockhole."
Too often, people confuse understanding someone’s motivations with accepting their behavior. He cheats on me because his dad always cheated on his mom. Fine, but he still cheats on you. She shoots heroin because her parents were abusive. Fine. But she still shoots heroin. Let some other woman deal with this guy and his "bad decisions." If you want to be healthy, you don’t need to be with him.
Right now you’re no doubt running the same game with yourself that a lot of addicts and alkies do when they think about quitting their substance: "If I could just see him a little . . . " "If we could just be friends . . . " "If we could just talk via instant message . . . "
Yeah. No. All that’s just lying to yourself. The only way to end this relationship is cleanly and completely. Zero contact. Change the email address. Find new friends. Go to new hangouts. Get a new cell number. If you want it bad enough, you’ll do it. I’ll be honest, it’s six different kinds of torture. But where you are now is its own kind of hell. Nowhere to go but up, right?

Dear Miss Information,

I’m a hetrosexual male in his late thirties. I am VERY attracted to lesbians of uber-intelligence. I am a well-read Phi Beta Kappa graduate with a Juris Doctor degree. My dream woman is Rachel Maddow of MSNBC. I think she’s everything anyone could ask for in a partner. Her Rhodes scholarship is the ultimate turnon. What should I do? — Almost Wishing I Didn’t Have A Penis

Dear Almost Wishing,
You guys, I get so many random letters like this. Geesh. What is this? A plug? If so, what are we plugging? Rachel Maddow? Lesbianism? Lawyers? Fraternities?
I’m a big fan of them all. Frats get hated on, but I’ve always been of the opinion that you don’t need a charter or incomprehensible Greek characters to dabble in heavy drinking, privilege and misogyny. Look at our politicians. Lesbians? AMAZING. You know fantasy baseball? Here’s my Top Five Fantasy Lesbian Team: 1. Scarlett Johansson; 2. Busy Philipps; 3. Salma Hayek; 4. Rihanna; 5. The youngest Kardashian sister. (I think her name is Khloe? Kahlúa?) Lawyers are pretty cool, if you’re able to compartmentalize and sift out the cool bits from the shitty. Look at Ralph Nader. Hillary Clinton. Sean Penn’s character in Carlito’s Way.
Oh wait. I forgot someone. The person you were possibly trying to talk up in the first place. Rachel Maddow. I didn’t know who she was, so I asked my friends and got quotes like, "Fucking awesome!" and, "Fucking smart!" and, "Fucking great!" All-fuckin’-right. Here’s a link to her website and her show on Air America. Ms. Maddow, if you happen to be reading, please know that you have a lot of fans.
Readers, you need to know that if you want to tell me about something or someone cool (including yourself) you don’t have to disguise it in the form of a letter. Send an email to erin@nerve.com and tell me about it. I’m especially interested in hearing from the younguns, the olds, the bisexuals, the parents and the gays. New perspectives, baby. I’m all about ’em.


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©2008 Erin Bradley and Nerve.com