This letter came into me through my weekly column in the Cavan Post.  I figured it needed to be aired here too, just in case there are more people reading with the same problem.

Dear Maxi,

I’m in a bit of a bind.  I’ve been going out with my boyfriend for 3 months now and whenever we’re “alone” together, he always wants me to go the whole way with him.  Even though I’m nearly 19 now I just don’t feel that I’m ready.  I mean, what about babies and herpes and the holy ghost?  He says that if I really loved him I’d do it, but I do love him.  I think that if he really loved me that he’d wait and respect my wishes.

How do I resolve this without losing him or hurting his feelings while at the same time not having to serve up my cherry delight?

Sincerely,

I can’t give my real name, because my mother reads and loves your site.

Dear Tease,

3 months?  You should be counting your lucky stars that you’re not my girlfriend, because I’d have dumped your uptight arse out long ago.  Either he’s got bollocks like grapefruits by now or he’s trying to cover up a life “style”.

This is not about showing your love for him, this is about showing you love certain parts of him.  Be honest.  Is it small?  Covered in warts?  Enough warts and nobbles to make it look like a Lion Bar?  If so, this is your only reason not to go for it.  Even then, once none of the nobbles are sprouting hair or oozing, you should be grand.  As for the holy ghost, the internet is full of free smut, why would he spy on your frigid hole?

If you’re worried about getting pregnant, unless you’re a 14 year old school drop out, you should have nothing to worry about.  Having said that you could always try contraception.  I’ve done some research and there are things called “condoms” which the man would wear.  I’ll be honest, they don’t sound like they’re for me, but if yer man is nobbly and leaky then it might be right down your street.  Now being from Cavan I presume you don’t want to have to spend any money on it.  There are alternatives.

Firstly, look down the side of the couch.  You’re sure to find an old crisp wrapper, why not get Mr Tayto and his spud gun involved in the action?  If that’s not tickling your fancy, you could try something else.

Jumping up and down after you’ve had a portion of curdled custard will ensure that you don’t get pregnant.  I always jump up and down after it and I’m still sprog free.  And don’t say that men can’t get up the duff because I’ve seen that documentary with Arnold Schwarzenegger and Danny DeVito.

If I were you I’d just get on with it before you get left all alone and have to grow old with a house full of cats.  I remember reading an agony column once and the woman had the same problem as you.  Know who she was?  Susan Boyle, that’s who.  She’s still a virgin now as well.  That’s what’s in store for you.

So here’s what I suggest – Just get it over with.  Make sure the football or something is on, because you’re not going to be much good on your first time and all, so he needs something to hold his attention.  If it lasts more than 4 minutes, he’s a freak so get out of there.  Call yourself a taxi, but do the courteous thing first and make him a sandwich.  Depending on how long the taxi takes, you could do the washing up too.

So that’s it.  No need to write back and thank me for my time and advice.  In thirty years time when your house is cat free, you can thank me then.  If all else fails, you could come over to my house and I’ll rid you of that pesky case of virginity, but send pictures first.  I’d rather do a virgin who chooses to be one and not one who’s just ugly as a pedo’s soul.

Sincerely,

Uncle Maxi.

P.S. That’s not the only thing yer ma loves about me.

You know what I hate?

When bloggers blog about the fact that they’ve nothing to blog about.

That’s what I’m doing here.

I don’t know if I should blog about the fact that today I was turned on by an old woman in sandals today, just because she had painted toes.

I don’t know if I should blog about the spam comments I get from people informing me of pre-teen sex web cams.  It just makes me feel wrong, especially since none of them are  a day under 14.  Do I have a case for false advertising?

I don’t know if I should blog about how I’m toying with the idea of doing a stand up gig (or at least trying it out) following the egging on from a friend who is an actual stand up comic.  I’d hate to be one of those people like on X Factor who think they can sing because their nan thinks they’re the dog’s bollocks, then turn out to be a complete tool.  Because I would cry and shout at the audience.

I don’t know if I should blog about how infrequent my erections are becoming these days.  I mean the sex web cams nearly had me, but they’re lying cunts.  But at least I have a semi.

I don’t know if I should blog about how I wish I lived in a soap opera and once, just once I’d be standing in the lobby of the hotel to receive a call that the bride never showed up for the wedding, giving me a day off.

I don’t know whether or not to blog about the fact that I’ve been blogging for nearly three years and have just over 400 posts.  Surely I should have more than that.  Ok, so this is post number 424, but still.

I don’t know if I should blog about how itchy my chest is after that nurse shaved it last week.  Although I kind of already did.

I don’t know if I should blog about my plans for time travel just so I can go back to anytime in the past and suck my own cock.  I mean if you could, you would but I don’t fancy having a few ribs removed.  I could try Yoga to learn to bend, but it’s so small I’d basically have to be able to lick my own arse at that rate.  Which is also another point in the “pro” list for time travel.  But would it be self love, abuse of time travel or incest?

Dunno, I’ll have something to blog about tomorrow.  Maybe.

What is the blind, deaf and dumb paraplegic girl getting for Christmas?

A kaleidoscope, an iPod, and bouncy castle and a yo-yo.

She got Lukemia for her birthday though, so chances are she won’t be around to enjoy them.

__________________________

Stop judging me.

What’s your fave joke that we shouldn’t laugh at?

An educational film brought to you by Darragh Doyle and I.

I think it’s fair to say who won that round.

Right, it’s that time of the month again.

I’m in the generous kind of mood and want to give away a €50 voucher along with my Filthy Butt Fun friends over at www.sex-toys.ie.

Last month I asked you for a dirty poem or a limerick and I got loads of rather spiffing entries.

This month, I need you to put your creative hats back on and come up with a brand new sex position and/or act.

You are all filthier than I or even yourselves give credit for, so I know you are all quite familiar with what a few of the more popular ones are:

Tea bagging – This is where the lovely lady friend would be on her back and her gentleman caller would straddle her face and dangle his conkers over her face.  It is then usually customary for the woman to cup them in her mouth and engage in a process of sucking said conkers until otherwise instructed.  Huzzah!

The Dirty Sanchez – Finger up the bum which is then wiped across the top lip of the recipient, giving the look of a stereotypical mexican mustache, hence the creative title.

The Rusty Trombone – A man will stand with his legs open at shoulder width and his partner (can be another man if feeling cosmopolitan about it) will then carry out a splendious duo of simultaneous rim job and hand job.  The more experienced dirtbag can then upgrade and include some tea bagging too.  This then means that the act must be re-named to the Rus-tea Trombone.  Mega.

Here are a couple I’ve researched of the inter highway:

The Pirate – Doing a girl doggie style, pull out, spit on her back so she thinks that you blew your load.  This should cause her to turn around in the hope for some gay cuddling, but instead you spud in her eye then kick her in the shin.  If done right, she’ll need an eye patch and a crutch for a day or two.  Aaaarrrrr!

The White Dragon – While receiving oral pleasure from your woman, or cosmopolitan other, you crack a joke just as you’re blowing your muck.  If you have the comic and orgasmic timing right, she should laugh reversing her swallow reflex and causing a white gush out of each nostril.

And now one that I’ve come up with all on my own:

The Little Miss Muffet – With a woman who won’t swallow your offerings?  Make her breakfast in bed, but not before you turn her cornflakes into Frosties.  She’ll eat your curds and whey whether she likes it or not.

And now it’s over to you.  Make up your very own sex act or position, and win a €50 voucher for goodies.

Leave it in the comments, I’ll announce the winner a week from today.

Get to it, you creative bunch of filth mongers.