Dear Head Pro,
I know you normally give advice on girls' love problems, but I have a professional concern that I feel like you're well-qualified to answer. This summer will be the summer after my junior year in college. Typically, most people I know get internships that they hope will result in job offers. I know this is the type of summer activity I should be looking into, but I'm torn. I am not going abroad next semester (because of major requirements) and would really like to take a creative writing course in Paris this summer. Creative writing classes would help me for my ideal future career, but the internship would probably be more practical for my immediate future.
I know betches don't normally care about/do work or whatever but I really am conflicted about what to do. As someone who I'm assuming is a recent college grad fresh in the job world, can you give me some young urban professional perspective?
Worried About the Future
Dear Worried About the Future,
I’m glad to know that someone besides me thinks the future is scary. I mean, what if there are robots? And I don’t mean like roombas or those robotic arm things that mass-produce the cars poor people buy, but humanoid robots. Will we be replaced? If so, will we at least be able to have sex with them? These are serious questions. Also, I’m flattered you think I’m “fresh in the job world.” While I do wear deodorant most days (making that statement true on one level), I’ve had more jobs than I can count. Come to think of it, that inability to count is probably why I've had so many.
A creative writing course in Paris, besides being the single gayest thing I’ve ever heard of, is not going to help you land any job. That is, unless your future dream career is “unemployed novelist” in which case go for it. This is how I see it: If you can write you can write, if you can't you can't, but either way some foppish French dandy will always be willing to take your money and make you do retarded word painting exercises. If you want to go to Paris you should just go for the real reason to go to Paris, to fucking enjoy yourself, assuming you can rely on your parents to fund a potentially career-less future.
On the other hand, if you actually give a shit about your career and don't have a trust fund to fall back on, you have a relatively small window where companies are willing to make you do menial work for free in exchange for allowing you to put their name on your resume. Internships are stupid and useless on their own, but some employers/industries think so highly of themselves that they pretend as though they matter. I don’t know how spending a summer fetching coffee for some assistant editor helps qualify you to later write insipid bullshit quizzes in Cosmo for $35k per year, but unfortunately that’s the way the game is played.
Save the useless writing classes for when you’ve saved up some money from your soul-crushing white collar job and your only options are either moving to Paris or suicide.
Dear Head Pro,
What is the best way to deal with the ever awkward case of whiskey dick? Like is it ok to kinda laugh it off as no big deal or what? I tend to become sorta mean and sarcastic when I'm in awkward situations that I don't know how to deal with, and I don't want to offend my hookup of the moment's feelings.
Drunk and Horny
Dear Drunk and Horny,
If there’s one universal truth, it’s that whiskey dick is the absolute fucking worst for everyone involved. The girl doesn’t get the pleasure of doing any sausage surfing, and the guy is stuck standing there with the most literal manifestation of his virility looking like some kind of grub you’d find rooting around in a rotted tree stump. I recall the Head Betches touching on this issue back in the dark ages before they hired me, and you’re welcome to reference their thoughts. As the proud owner of a (mostly) functioning penis, I figure it’s my duty to weigh in on the subject.
Basically, whiskey dick is the result of two compounding factors (neither of which have anything to do with you). The first problem is vascular. As I understand it alcohol is a blood thinner and also causes the blood vessels to dilate, so while blood can flow into the dong, it flows out just as easily because the blood vessels can’t constrict to keep it in there. Also, remember that booze is a depressant. In addition to reduced sensitivity, your dick can’t maintain an erection if your nervous system isn’t giving it the right instructions. Yes, lots of guys have erectile problems for several other reasons, but if it only happens to your bro when he’s wasted, you’re probably just dealing with a purely physiological clusterfuck. The only way to fix it is to drink less or pop some kind of boner pill, which I doubt any doctor would recommend while binge drinking. I say this hesitantly, but this is probably one instance where I invite any doctors or med students to fill in the blanks or correct me in the comments section.
As far as handling it, that’s up to you but keep in mind that a lot of guys’ pride is tied up in their dicks and sexual performance. Laughing probably isn’t the best response, but don’t go out of your way to assure them it’s okay. Unfortunately, not every bro knows what causes whiskey dick, and when it happens I promise that they are very much not ok with the situation. It’s embarrassing and frustrating. If anything, I think the best response is to explain that you know why it happens and that it doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with him. Whatever you do, don’t put up with any asshole who tries to blame it on you, because that’s right up there with “omg this never happens” in terms of bullshit excuses. If a guy can’t acknowledge the fact that sometimes your junk doesn’t work when you drink too much, you’re probably better off not fucking that guy to begin with.