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.

Signed,
Baroness Stitchbritches

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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.

• Display #17: Babar Comes A-Courting. Remove all objects from the pants' pockets. Invert these pockets, so as to form ersatz cotton ears, one to each side of the hips. With subterfuge, let slip one's penis via the micturant-portal of the denim trousers. Shake with vigor. In this, the case of your alternate gender, you might engorge the clitoris for the same effect. If yours is so equipped, ruffle its hood and flutter its many hues.

• Display #100: James Madison's Electric Bugaloo. Among the array of your desired mate's friend-horde, identify his most scrawny and wimpified of companions—he who has of the poindextered glasses and the protected pockets—-and pull him aside for the nibbling, the rubbing, and the drunken growling. All the while, keep your gaze upon the desired mate, such that he knows all that he is missing. Sew discord. Set fire to the premises.

• Display #202: The Rage of the Dolphin: Gather to your bosom a dozen strong and well-muscled friends. These friends must possess few morals and fewer inhibitions. Enflame them with drink. Then, with your posse of dolphins in tow, attack a rival pod of dolphins, singling out an attractive female. Bludgeon her with tails and bottle-noses until she is unconscious. Once unconscious, she is brought back to your home and dealt with; in the general, I suggest barbecue, as it takes advantage of the tenderness of adolescent meat. But, if your selected female is especially athletic, braising may be preferred. Be aware: Behaving like dolphins violates many state and local statutes. Please check the laws governing your region before proceeding. Our legal counsel, Dr. Love, advises that we stipulate that none of the foregoing information constitutes legal advice.

• Display #300: The Standard: Engorge the gills, eye-sacks, cephalic ridge, and mucus pouch beneath the beak. Pump the groin forth and back to the bass line of either "Fighting for Our Partying Rights" by the Bestiality Brethren or "Mustangs and Sally," as performed by Wilson and His Pickets. Illuminate the bioluminescent glands at your anus in a come hither fashion. Apply your scent.

• Display #323: The Flowing Fist of Finality: Hold your limbs high above you, spread to their furthest. Open your pores and release the luminescent bacteria you have been cultivating and befriending. Spin slowly in a circle, lowering and raising your arms until you are swathed in gently falling motes of lights. Hum a jaunty tune and waggle your eyebrows whilst making the eye contact. None can resist this most tricky technique.

• Display #415: The Cockateel's Cotillion. Adorn yourself in your most scooped dcolletage and hip-huggingest trouserpants. Stand a-fore the alcohol distribution counter in your local public house, and declare loudly and clearly, "I am so very the drunken! Perhaps I should go home, or instead kiss with the tongue many other females whilst amateur videographers like yourselves capture the display upon their cellular telephone device, and then distribute them via You and his Tubes!"

• Display #606: The Merkat's Folly. Earn a fair living wage, and maintain a lifestyle well within the limitations posed by that wage. Fully vest your retirement plan. Behave unto all both fairly and decently, being not stingy with the generosity of your spirit. Then spring upon the desirable mate, fiercely rutting with whatever combination of protuberances and orifices that happen to present themselves.

• Display #627: Aristotle's Lament. Bare your bosoms. (The naming of this display is apocryphal.)

• Display #628: The Phaorohonic Embrace. Bathe in ice water for six hours. Cover your body in salt. Glue an ersatz braided beard to your chin. Ministrate to your flesh with oils and balms. Wrap your limbs tightly in linen bandages. Brandish the ankh before your chosen. Slowly unravel the bandages.

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
Editor-in-Chief
PMjA

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.