Dear Dr. V,
I think I met my soul mate at the Halloween dance. Unfortunately, her costume masked her true identity (she was some kind of animal) and I’m scared I’ll never find her again.
-Forlorn party-animal-hunter
Dear Hunter,
Fear not, young friend, there is no need to be scared. That is unless you were too wasted to remember which animal she was dressed as. You must find out that crucial piece of information in order to determine the true identity. It shouldn’t be too hard although as the sexy animal costume universe is generally limited to the sexy kitten, puppy, bunny, and bumble bee. Once determined however you must use the mating instincts of that animal to track down your lost Juliet.
If she is the bee, you’re fucked. Apparently the bee tracking system is toast thanks to cell phone towers. Thus even if you do find her, the chances of you finding your way home after are slim at best.
If she was a bunny, you may want to reconsider how interested you are in her. Bunnies tend to be rather skittish at first but once the loving begins you’ll soon have multiple crying brats on your hands. There is a reason why rabbits are a universal sign of fertility and rebirth. BTW, am I the only one that thinks the Easter bunny is a hilariously inappropriate character for children? Anyhow, trust me when I say articling is going to be way worse when you’re up all night taking care of junior. Maybe take a pass on that one.
If she was the puppy, you may find an addition to your criminal record. Unless she moonlights at Upper Brass, you may find it difficult to locate her through ass sniffing. More troubling is that sniffing asses around Flavelle is sure fine way to get you slapped, and slapped with sexual assault charges. You may want to link up with Professor Dubber for the likelihood of criminal liability.
I think your best option is to hope she was a sexy cat and use what we in the field call the “tom-cat method”. Here what you must do is find where this lady relieves herself (the downstairs bathroom) and leave your scent on the other side of the wall. What I am recommending is that you abstain from drinking water for about two days while only consuming coffee and asparagus. Wait until the halls are empty, and let loose all over the wall downstairs across from the elevator. Trust me, she’ll come running! And quite frankly, it’ll probably make the joint smell better.
Happy Hunting!
Dr. V
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Dear Dr. V,
How have you been holding up since your divorce?
-A. Friend
Dear Friend,
Thank you for your concern. As you may know, the Valencia line has endured a great many tragedies, and as a member of this great family tradition, I too shall endure. My father, the great Mexican lover Don Julio Valencia broke both legs on the afternoon on which I was conceived. My mother’s husband had just returned early from an unsuccessful morning of [censored] in Bangkok (my mother was Thai), and my father caught off guard was forced to leap from the third story so as to avoid a barrage of Muay Thai blows. He shattered both femurs and was sent back to Mexico that very evening where he hobbled around like Verne Troyer for the next three years before having them reset by a doctor/luchador in Puerto Vallarta. During those three years, however he fathered 17 children. A true master.
My mother was immediately abandoned by her Thai husband, and she was forced to work in a brothel in Patpong in order to make way for my arrival. She started working mop detail until, to her luck, the growth of her baby bump converged with the rise of the [censored]. Needless to say I was [censored] in the womb giving rise to [censored]. She eventually took over the place and even provided me with my first job as a [censored].
Even in my own lifetime, I have risen above great adversity. As a poor half Thai, half Mexican man, I struggled to make a living. I moved to Mexico where I attempted to be a drug mule. Unfortunately all the kegel exercises I had been doing to perfect my unsuccessful ping-pong show in a Manila night club called Mister Lady (it really exists – Google it) led to continued explosions of the heroin balloons. To this day I still hold the Northern Mexico record for ODs -the Southern record belongs to Rick James. But I never perished!
I will get through these tough times. People say that it is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all, and so I guess I should feel blessed to have had so many great years with my husband Albert Lin. I doubt if I will ever meet another lover capable of matching my passion and kama sutra position precision, as Albert did, but I recognize that his work as SLS President is very important to the school and I wish him well. Viva el Presidente!
Thanks again Friend,
Dr. V
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Dear Dr. V,
I’m a super driven female law student and usually I have no problem avoiding the distractions of the opposite sex. But that all changes when Movember rolls around…I just can’t resist the stache. What’s wrong with me?
–
Mad for Must
Dear Mad,
It may not be you… It could just be the fugly crop of dudes we’re working with at U of T. Sometimes the face-pelt brings out the best in a man. I mean, have you seen Tom Selleck without that mustache?
Somehow, though, I doubt that. We’ve got some great looking men at U of T, and the mo only seems to amplify their virility. I mean come on, have you seen Danny Barrett pre and post stache? He looks like he is ready to throw on some tight wranglers and go handle a mechanical bull somewhere. The guy is like a young Sam Elliot.
But on a serious note, regardless of whether the mustache reminds you of your Dad or not, these guys should be given a hand(y) for bucking up and making a mockery of themselves for a good cause. We all have dads, brothers, grandfathers and eventually perhaps sons that have a shockingly high probability of wrestling with prostate cancer. I’m proud of U of T’s MoBros, and I’m willing to bet it is the size of their hearts and senses of humor that is turning you on, not the size of their mos and hogans.
Good luck getting to December Mad for Must,
Dr. V