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Ask Doctor Down-Down: July 2003

Dear Doctor Down-Down,

I’ve been asking a nagging question for the last three years to every hasher I know, searching for a consensus answer, but have gotten mixed answers from everyone. Perhaps you can help me with dilemma. I am a very heterosexual man, but curious about different types of sexual gratification. Sex with men does not interest me in anyway whatsoever. However, I seem to find photos and videos of women with a strap-on curiously sensual and sexually stimulating. My curiosity is then about having anal sex with a woman with a strap-on. My concern is whether or not this is gay sexual behavior. My question for you, Dr. Down-Down is: If my girlfriend/wife straps on a dildo and fucks me up the ass, does that make me gay?

Orificially Confused,
Pork Screw

Dear Pork,

As my colleague Dr. Ruth says, “the anus is an extremely sensitive erogenous zone and should not be neglected.” And I say “hear hear” . . . those are words to live by. As a matter of fact, those words are my creed. I never neglect my anus.

Does “being on the receiving end” make you a “Fey Ray?” Well, look at it this way. Suppose your girlfriend, some night when you’re drunk and passed out, slides a three-way light bulb up your “heinie.” Would that make you gay? Of course not. That would only make you embarrassed when you had to go to the emergency room. Now let’s suppose she lubes up your cell phone and packs it in your “pooper.” Would that make you gay? No, only frustrated that you couldn’t answer your phone before your callers hung up. Now suppose she crams a watermelon in your “wazoo.” Would that make you gay? No. You’d probably feel vaguely stuffed, though.

Live a little, dude. Buy the gal a strap-on! No one will think you’re gay!


On On,
Dr. Down-Down

Dear Doctor Down-Down,

My life is nearly perfect. What would make it absolutely perfect is a hashing husband. I don’t have any kind of husband right now, but a hashing husband would do just fine. One would think that a guy would jump at the chance to be the spouse of somebody who likes to do the nasty at the drop of a hat and who doesn’t care at all if he goes to hash events that include debauchery. But no, when I mention I’m interested, they all move to the other side of the room, and when I flash them or moon them to show them I care, they all run away. What’s the problem?

On On,
Teats de Swamp, FBAC, SSDD, NASA

Dear Ms Swamp,

Do you have any issues with wearing a strap-on? I know someone you might like to meet.

On On,
Doctor Down-Down

Dear Doctor Down-Down,

I have analyzed your piss boy Flying Booger and have determined that he suffers from delusions brought on by his paranoia concerning Larry McDowell. How could Mr. McDowell be trying to commercialize the hash when he is only trying to make money off of hashing? You see? Only a paranoid would confuse the two. Flying Booger’s fixation on Mr. McDowell could be a latent homosexual problem or simply the fact that he is a seriously sick puppy (or both). I prescribe significant time in the circle to adjust his humor and attitude, starting with a quart or litre down down, followed by individual pint or half litre down downs as needed to correct his hash attitude. I recommend the same prescription for anyone who has paranoid delusions that Mr. McDowell is trying to commercialize the hash.

In fact, I challenge Flying Booger and his unhashlike ilk to a drinkoff with Mr. McDowell himself. Yes, I can see it now, Flying Booger and his contemptible cohorts on their knees at the feet of the mighty Larry McDowell, vomiting all over themselves while Mr. McDowell chugs mug after mug to the cheers of the international hashing community!

Cheers und On On,
Herr Doktor

Dear Doktor,

Oh my aching sides! Herr Doktor, you are so funny! Talk about putting Flying Booger in his place! Latent homosexual, oh ha ha ha! Take that, Brucie Booger Boy! Oh I can’t stand it, it’s just too funny . . . and the throwing up thing . . . hee hee hee . . . oh, enough, stop already . . . I can’t catch my breath . . . I haven’t laughed this hard since the little girl next door got polio!

Lordy, lordy, you are one laff riot. Latent homosexual! Oh, shit, don’t make me start laughing again!

What’s that, Herr Doktor? Papers? What papers? I don’t have any papers. Hey, what are you doing? Let go! Where are you taking me?

On On,
Dr. Down-Down

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