How to do what’s wrong right

HOWARD LEWIS RUSSELL  | Special Contributor

Dear Howard,
Is it fair to date a man I don’t really like that much only because he’s rich? — Clay

Dear Clay,
To whom are you directing this question’s moral dilemma, exactly: yourself, or the loaded sugar daddy you’re hoping to marry?
If you’re asking me whether Mr. Rich doesn’t realize you’re bedding down with him only for his money, then, you’re naturally an idiot; moreover, if you’re merely asking me whether dating affluent men, exclusively, makes you a smarmy gold-digger, then you would be correct.
The greatest thing about marriage equality still not being legal in most states (including Texas), , is that — unlike your straight male counterparts — wealthy-fool homosexual men don’t at all enjoy the privilege of getting ultimately bamboozled into subsequent divorce court via empty marriages to hot, sociopath morons. Our moral here, of course, is this: The amazing thing about living in 21st-century America is how very few people can afford to be worthless anymore.

Dear Howard,
My erection favors a right curve that I’m constantly receiving complaints about whenever making love to my new boyfriend, Miss Priss, the dictatorial power-bottom. I’ve tried “correcting” it by only wanking with my left hand, but to no avail. Suggestions? — Armstrong

Dear Arm-and-Hammer,
Yes, I have several suggestions: First, no man’s masturbatory practices in any way “corrects” his God-given penis shape; secondly, unless your curve is equivalent to, say, the rigidity of a construction crane’s 90-degree angle, then, whomever you’re making love to — whether you want to hear this or not — doesn’t love you back . . . you should inform “Miss Priss” that you hope your front door is perfectly well hung and straight enough when it hits his ass squarely on the way out.

Dear Howard,
When my brother, five years older, comes home from college, I sometimes sneak into his bedroom after he’s asleep and start messing around with him. He’s not gay, but he’s never kicked me out, or called me a faggot (at least anymore, like he used to when we were kids). As soon as he cums, though, I always leave immediately and the next morning it’s like I’m back to being a zero in his life that he barely even acknowledges over the breakfast table. — Chris

Dear Chris,
Incest is God’s way of saying that you’re not masturbating enough behind your own bedroom door.

Dear Howard,
My girlfriend and I got married two years ago in Iowa, where she’s from. I’m from Louisiana, where we now live, but where gay marriage isn’t legally recognized. I dream every day now of her dying in a car accident coming home from work so that I don’t have to deal with legally divorcing the witch; even worse, now she’s talking of us moving to California, a community-property state. How do I get out of this, Howard? — Beth

Dear Beth,
Hire a lawyer.

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This article appeared in the Dallas Voice print edition September 19, 2014.