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Squid #289
(published August 3, 2006)
Ask the Giant Squid: The Sea for a Girl
Who is Poor Mojo's Giant Squid?
Dear Giant Squid,

Once me I have another question for you this time I need life advice. So here's the scenario I'm in amsterdam havin a good time and I meet this girl super fucking hot! And so I get to know some more so that night I go to here house and we end up doin' it and the next day she asks me to stay. And I dont know if I should give my first love the sea for a girl. So please help oh giant wise one.

Thief of Mercy
Anonymous the pirate

Dear Thief of Mercy,

It is once I, as well. Once and future and past the I of me as well. I understand that to meet the Hot is most wonderful for your species. And to meet the Hot who is Super, and Fucking and Girl—all of these lead to the exclamations most grand and terrible.

I am delighted for you, for the Hot, and for all of the modifiers extended thereof, and most delighted as it is clear that the extremity of your delight in these matters has inspired some sort of broad ecstasy which has resulted in a decidedly retrograde development in your abilities of written communication.

But it is for this mysterious First Love that I am most concerned. If you and Manifest Heat are to be together, it is clear that a prior love might take offense at such a development. As such, your suggestion that to "give my first love the sea"—being a gift of such extreme extravagance—does seem to be a gesture that might well begin to assuage this First Love's discomforture at her rejection. Still, I feel obliged to admit that I am much perplexed that it is not simply the sea you wish to give unto First Love, but "the sea for a girl." It has always been my observation that, although the sea is oft personified in gender by human scriveners—she is a harsh mistress now, an angry Davey Jones then, an inscrutable hag soon and an Old Man of the later—it is still always the sea, itself genderless apart from metaphor, and equally suited to other the Kitten or Cock. What, then, I do wonder, is this Sea for Girls? Does it have wings? Is it ribbéd? Is it preternaturally pink of hue? Is it sufficiently strong for the male, and yet pH-balanced for the female?

I am left but to suppose that, inextricably ganged to your ineluctable ability to lure the sea into some beribonéd gift-box is the further indefatigable will to sort it into gender-appropriate regions and gift of one while withholding the others.

As such, I do wonder what prevents you from giving to this First Love an appropriate parting gift? I understand that the Sea, modified so as to be especially good for the girl, might be a very kind and ennobling parting gift for both parties. However, I am metaphorically hamstrung (as best I understand the metaphoric flourish; this term refers to the occasion by which the tendon of the ham of the leg of a terrapedal animal is cut, resulting in an oft fatally retarded ability to make forward progress, no?) in the giving of this to advise because, without further information regarding the nature of this First Love, his or her likes and dislikes, I of course cannot say what gift would be appropriate to ameliorate your departure from Him/Her to be with this expression of energy, The Heat who is Super and Fucking and Girl, and with whom you Do It. Might the "sea for a girl" be received as a harsh rebuke and insult by your masculine First Love? Might a femme-First Love find a for-females sea to reminiscent of your Lady Love that Dare Not Speak its Name, and thus only reopen the wounds you had so sought to cauterize with the heat of gift giving?

The more I thought upon it, the more it became evident that this was a sensitive matter indeed.

Perhaps you should revisit the Here House—perhaps even the very same Here House in which you and the Super Heat did Do it. I believe that Here Houses are renowned the world over for their meditative qualities. In the contemplative surroundings of the ever present Here, perhaps you might have the luck in bringing clarity to your thoughts, and thus find the ability to return to me with a more detailed missive from which I might cull a keener sense.

Owing to my mounting confusions, I brought your missive to my best-belovéd Hazel—who is learnéd in both loves (the bareback and the brokeback) and hence very knowledgeable in Matters of the Heart—for further consultation. I began with the issue of Here Houses.

"Y'sure you don't mean whore house, sugartips?" Hazel asked, gazing at the nails of a dainty manipulator as she spoke, "I don't know that I've ever heard of a Here House, but they 'Do It' " she made of the air-quotes in the air wither her auto-manicured fingers' nails, "in any ole whore house. 'Specially in Amsterdam. They're famous for it, over there."

So I did switch of the gears, and asked after the advisability of giving a First Love the Sea for Girls (or a portion there-of) as a disengagement gift. This left Hazel thoroughly perplexed—I had presumed that you were making tangential and enigmatic reference to widely-held human practices, as opposed to speaking, in occluded manner, of your own personal foibles behavioral. Finally she requested to see the missive, which I had as printed out by my first friend and neighbor, Trael. She scanned the page, and I saw the light ignite in her eyes.

"Ahhh" she said, "See, here, Hon; this whole message is just a big ugly mess of typos. Like, he isn't trying to say Here House; it's her house they went to, the house where his chica lives. Also, with that 'sea for the girl' thing, I think he's just missing some commas."


"Mmm hmm. See here," she pointed to the sentence, "this fella wrote I dont know if i should give my first love the sea for a girl—like, to me, it sounds almost like he wants to make a deal with his first love, and swap the sea for some new girl—and I'm pretty sure he meant I dont know if I should give my first love, the sea, for a girl. Probably he left out up, too. He probably really meant: I dont know if I should give up my first love, the sea, for a girl. Y'see?"

And I did.

"Makes a lot more sense that way, don't it."

It did.

"See, he just met some gal in Amsterdam—maybe a streetwalker; it ain't really clear on that—and they did it—"

"Did what?"

"Did sex, and now she wants him to stick around and he doesn't know if he oughta."

"Ought he to?"

She crumpled up the letter, "It don't matter," and tossed it off into the scrubby bushes aside our mobile domicile, "If he's even wonderin', then he won't. Not long."

So, then, the answer is clear, my Anonymous pirate friend, you Thief of Mercy: Give not your First Love the Sea for a Girl, as this bedding with the Terrible Walker of the Streets-Alone shall last not; flee back to your ship, and the manly embrace of the sea's harsh mistressing.

As always, I delight in our correspondence but am befuddled by your grammar.

The Giant Squid

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