Category: Advice

“Dear Dr. Kim: 

“I’ve recently been reading about something called ‘andropause’, which is apparently something like women’s menopause. 

“Should I be worried about this?  I’m nearly 60.” 

— Apprehensive, Ohio

Dear Appy,

Back when we used fewer pretentious words, we called this “getting old”.  It happens to every man — even to Clint Eastwood — and it manifests itself in your body being less able to do the things it could once do quite easily:  lift heavy objects, run up stairs without feeling like your heart is going to give out, pee like a racehorse, grow hair on your head, see anything clearly at any distance without cataracts and.or glaucoma, and worst of all, have an erection pretty much on demand.

All this is pretty irritating because to be honest, you can’t stop it happening.  You can try to delay the process by doing foolish things like going to the gym or taking up jogging, but it’s a lost cause;  Nature is rightly regarded as female because she’s a cast-iron bitch and she hates men.

The worst part of all of this is that with this cessation of manly activity (“pause”, my ass) comes feelings of inadequacy, of having passed your prime (because you have) and knowing that your dreams of bonking some young hottie have vanished because a.) you’ve become invisible to hotties except to those with daddy issues and b.) even if you did miraculously manage to entice her to your bed the experience would likely be humiliating.

Nothing causes in-bed passion to disappear quicker than an attack of uncontrollable diarrhea, as my old buddy Patterson once explained to me.  And the drooping phallus before said attack didn’t exactly help matters, he added.

This is why old men become irritable.  They get upset over kids playing on their lawn, over their food being burned, over their favorite beer suddenly disappearing from the supermarket, and over the failing eyesight which causes hitherto-enjoyable trips to the gun range to become yet another failure among so many others, e.g. not remembering the name of the actress who once got your hormones racing and your erection to skyrocket.

And we haven’t even started to talk about Democrats.

Yes, it’s fucking depressing.  And typically, we don’t talk about it because we’re men and not women.  What we do is make bitter jokes about it, like the Rules For Old Men:

1. Don’t make long-term investments (including buying green bananas)
2. Never trust a fart
3. Never waste an erection.

I have a cure for all of this by the way, and it’s called “Fuck It”.  Here are some examples.

• If you can no longer hit the bullseye with your favorite rifle at 500 yards, move the target (much) closer and use a .22 instead.
• Take a daily dose of Viagra (sildenafil), which may cause other physiological problems but so what — erections are more important than any of those, right?  Believe it or not, the ability to get an erection is more psychologically beneficial than people realize — and it’s a lot more effective than uppers or “mood adjusters” (as pushed by Big Pharma).
• Accept that your looming death will not be a tragedy, but a blessed relief.  (It may well be a tragedy to your loved ones, but that’s not really your problem anymore, is it?)
• Ignore all doctors, because they’re a bunch of killjoy busybodies and their advice, if not generally wrong, is usually going to require that you give up life’s little pleasures like warm buttered bread, single malt Scotch or red meat.
• Forget all regrets.  In most cases, you can’t do anything about missed opportunities — seduction of your hot neighbor from twenty years ago didn’t happen then, and it ain’t gonna happen now — and continually kicking yourself about not having bought Microsoft or Apple stock back in the late 1970s when it cost $2.25 a share is as counterproductive as wishing you’d never married that bitch in the late 1970s as well.  Let it go.
• Don’t worry about the fact that you may be dead when the Glorious Day comes and the Commies are being lined up against the wall.  I know, that sucks:  nobody wants to gun down Commies more than I do.  But if that wonderful opportunity escapes me because I’ve already moved to a dirt condo, at least I know that I’ve left enough ammo to my heirs so they can do the job for me.
• Watch lots of porn, not because it turns you on but because it pisses off people like women and other Puritans.  Also, unlike regular movies, you don’t have to remember any of the performers’ names when talking to your buddies at the bar or VFW.
• Carry a gun, everywhere.  Make your assailant’s life miserable, even at the cost of your own.  You are no longer able to brawl like you used to, so let John Moses Browning or Sergei Kalashnikov help you out instead.
• Forget trying to learn stuff, other than for the sheer joy of acquiring knowledge.  Chances are you’re going to forget the details anyway, and in all probability, all the learning you’ve acquired so far will be more than adequate for your needs from now on.
• Ignore everything that anyone from government tells you.  It’s either a blatant lie, or else it’s wrong.  If someone from the Census Bureau wants you to fill out some form which tells them all about you and your life, tell them to fuck off.  If some apparatchik demands that you show them some document or other, tell them you lost it.
• Be prepared to accept the consequences of all the above advice.

I could go on, but I think the point has been made.

—

One of the most irritating bits of bullshit I’ve had to deal with since I came Over Here in the Great Wetback Episode Of 1986 is the (Californian) affectation of wishing everyone a good day, which along with the “smile” button never fails to set my teeth on edge.

“Have A Good Day!” is unbearably trite and superficial, not to mention facile and asinine.

Telling a shop assistant or restaurant worker to have a good day is totally stupid:  how much of a good day can you possibly have when you’re serving the public?  At best, you won’t be killed for forgetting to put the fries into the takeout bag.

As New Wife (who also hates the expression) pointed out to me over the weekend, it’s not just its banality but its ambition, which is unreachable.

“A whole day?  That’s asking too much of the universe,” she said.  “We should just wish that their next ten minutes can be disaster-free.”

And don’t even get us started on “Live long and prosper”. Talk about overreach.

We are kindred souls.  Polite, but gloomily realistic.

“Dear Dr. Kim:

“I’m a rather well-known Hollywood actor in my late 40s who has a reputation for only bonking dating women younger than 25 years old — in fact, I generally ditch them shortly after their 25th birthday.

“For some reason, this seems to have pissed some people off.  They say I should ‘date women my own age’ or ‘stop cradle-snatching’.

“Here’s my philosophy.  After they pass 25, all the women I’ve met start to droop and sag, and even worse they want to start breeding like rabbits, and this makes them very unattractive to me because post-baby bods have droopy boobs, doughy tummies and tunnel-vag syndrome.  Also, the thought of dating women around my own age makes me a little nauseated — I mean, I know chicks like Amanda Holden (53) and Salma Hayek (56) are totally hot, BUT:  they’re all married and they have kids.  While I’m not really averse to having kids of my own (in principle, anyway), I’d rather not have to look after someone else’s, especially as women of my age tend to have daughters aged 16-24, and you KNOW where that might lead.

“Actually, their bodies are only part of the problem.  Sure, the under-25s are kinda brainless (in the ignorance sense), but “older” women are, if you’ll excuse the expression, bat-shit crazy and neurotic (and believe me, I know what I’m talking about).  While the latter are more mature, their psychological problems are equally advanced, whereas the younger women just don’t seem to have those issues.

“Anyway, Dr. Kim, what do I do about all this date-shaming?”

— Just Call Me Leo

Dear Leo:

Tell ’em all to fuck off.  Seriously.  If that old hag Cher can date some beardless weenie forty years younger than herself and nobody kvetches or scolds her, then why should you worry?  It’s not like your fresh girlfriends don’t know the rules of the game, n’est-ce pas? and they all seem quite okay with it.  Maybe it’s the fact that you fulfill all their twisted little fantasies:  fame, a jet-set lifestyle, trendy parties, beach vacations on tropical islands or large yachts, lots of sparkly little presents and, lest we forget (and according to urban legend) they also get frequently serviced by a large male appendage.  No wonder there’s a long line of early-20 hotties outside your door.

You seem to have it all figured out, so why change?  But if you want to shut the scolds up for a while, hold your nose and fuck date a childless hottie between ages 28-32 for a while, and then all the Jealous Ones will say, “Ah, good!”  and turn their envious Karen-gaze elsewhere . Then, when they’re not looking, dump Miss Middle-Age and resume the sub-25 thing.  Your excuse:  “Hey, I tried!”

Know this, however:  you are the envy of all men on the planet, who would do exactly what you’re doing if they could.

—

“Dear Dr. Kim:

“I’ve been on my fair share of dates, but after a difficult break-up nine months ago followed by a string of mediocre-at-best encounters, I’ve been feeling a bit hopeless about the modern dating landscape.

“I’m on three different dating apps but, to be honest, I’ve come very close to giving up altogether. Before I throw in the towel, however, I have decided to try something very different to my usual swipe-by-gut-instinct tactics.

“I am ‘astro-dating’ — choosing dates that are astrologically a good fit for me.

“So could cosmic dating help me bag a date for Valentine’s?

“The first challenge was finding men willing to give me their full birth chart without having ever met me. As anyone who has ever done internet dating knows, it’s hard enough to get past the swiping stage, and I admit several men ghosted me the second I mentioned star signs. Nonetheless, through a combination of ruthless flirting and the promise of free drinks, I managed to find six men who were game.

“Next up was a birth chart consultation with Yasmin Boland, astrologer and moonologer, to find out who, out of the six, I’d be most compatible with. Yasmin, a best-selling author, has been an internationally successful ‘spiritual guide’ for the past two decades and focuses on helping others find their path in life, work and, crucially, love through astrological compatibility.

“Am I on the right track?”

— Star-Struck, England

Dear Starfucked:

You didn’t mention visiting the Oracle at Delphi, or having a sacerdos consult the entrails of a chicken, so you may have missed a couple of steps on your voyage towards total insanity I mean romantic happiness.  (Oh, and by the way, the traditional term for “moonologer” is “lunatic”.)

Allow me to suggest a better filter system than relying on the light of stars which may or may not have already gone out, and it involves a simple checklist of questions.  Here it is:

1. Do you have a favorite gun?  If so, which and why?
2. What is your favorite alcoholic drink?
3. Are you a vegetarian or vegan?
4. Do you have a liberal arts degree, or else a degree in something that is actually worth anything in the job market?
5. Do you believe in astrology or unicorns?
6. Turbo-charged V6 or naturally-aspirated V12?
7. Do you own, or want to own a Prius?
8. Do you believe that the only reason that socialism has failed everywhere it has been tried is because it just hasn’t been implemented properly?

Now, the answers:

1. “I don’t like guns” — immediate disqualification.  “Glock” — not a disqualification, but understand that some work may be necessary.  “Do you mean handgun, rifle or shotgun?” — definitely a candidate for romance.
2. “I don’t like alcohol” — immediate disqualification.  “Chablis/IPA” — not a disqualification, but understand that some work may be necessary. “Wine grown on the sunny slopes of…” — poseur alert, your call.  “Whatever gets me drunk quickest” — you may want to be careful with this one.  Or not.  “Depends on the occasion, the company and my mood” — strong candidate.
3. “Yes” — run FAR away.
4. “Liberal Arts” — approach with caution;  needs clarification (e.g. Anything Studies: no).  “Engineering” — considerable work may be necessary.  “Never saw the need for a degree, because I wanted to start my own construction business” — strong candidate.
5. “Yes” — run away.
6. “Neither because they’re causing climate change” — immediate disqualification.  “Actually, a turbo 4-cylinder is all I need” — not a bad answer, but be careful, especially if also an IPA-drinker.  “Well, I like both, but I prefer off-roading in my old truck” — strong candidate.
7. “Yes” — run away.
8. “Yes” — run FAR away.

These simple questions will be all the pre-qualifiers you’ll ever need.

Or you can just choose the astrological / chicken entrails path, you fucking loser.