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Squid #384
(published May 29, 2008)
Ask the Giant Squid: The Kama Sutra
(as interpreted by one Giant Squid)
Who is Poor Mojo's Giant Squid?
Dear Giant Squid,

I fell in love with a guy from my school since the beginning of the school year and he doesn't know me and I want him to notice me, but I don't know how to get his attention to me.

Please help.

Baroness Stitchbritches

Dear Baroness,

In times like these one ofttimes finds it beneficial to look to the Animal Kingdom, our furry and feathered and scaled and chromatographic and inebriated brethren, for help and guidance. Each and every animal—save humans, certain giant squids, and politically conservative planarian and triops—has but one particular method of wooing. Being a sentient human (one presumes), you may learn from others and adapt. (Of course, now that I think upon the matter, if you are a non-sentient human—perhaps a cyborg, deathless skinwalker, or mental defective, this would explain why a healthy adolescent male would fail to notice your blood engorged and inviting genitalia.) Upon reviewing my notes, I have selected these several courting techniques, for their efficacy in nature, popularity among vertebrates, and ease-of-learning. Please consider them with my compliments and well-wishes.

As a final note, my lab assistant, Rob, has noted that, perhaps the problem lies in that "the dude in question, you know, is more into sucking the sausage than nibbling the bacon. Right?"

Agreed, of course. As in all matters, it is once again the case that Rob's practicality wins out over all. Whichever display you choose, be sure to bring a full compliment of salted and processed porks; as in all things, a well stocked larder assures a lass's success.

With Hope and Regards,
I Remain,
The Giant Squid

Post-scriptorum: Gentle Readers, I offer a gentle reminder that I have been invited to share my views on the State of the Gay Utopia this coming Saturday evening, from 7 to 8 post-meridian in Chicago, at Quimby's Bookstore. Although I regret that I myself will be unable to attend — and thus shall miss the opportunity to meet, in person, Admiral Quimby, much the shame of it — I shall send, in my stead, our own David Erik Nelson, an able lad of some thirty years who many claim is, in his own right, not entirely without merit.

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see other pieces by this author | Who is Poor Mojo's Giant Squid? Read his blog posts and enjoy his anthem (and the post-ironic mid-1990s Japanese cover of same)

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