Dear Zad is a write-in column where readers can seek advice from their trusted Zad on all their gay dilemmas. Please note that Zad is not a licensed or qualified counsellor, but is qualified in not sugar-coating your petty dramas when you are having a full meltdown. You can find him shit-posting on Insta at @joshmayhewnyc.
Dear Zad,
I love sex but I’m grossed out by cum. What do I do?
I hear your frustration, and you may be interested to discover that I’ve been there myself.
I was not nearly as fluid-friendly as a much younger geigh, and I eventually realized that this seemingly innocent hang-up was actually inhibiting my presence and participation. Even if you don’t always notice it, I guarantee that your aversion to getting triple-glazed is making you daintier, more reserved, and less hands-on than you could be. So try this: the next time your himbo is searching for poppers, use that ten seconds for a small pep talk. Tell yourself: It will get on, in, and around me, and it will not give me third degree burns.
Unlock your jaw. Drop your shoulders. Accept that you’ll get messy. It’s sex, not vacation bible school. And remember – fluids are a re-assurance that whatever you’re doing is working. Switching your mindset will instantly level up your bedroom vibe. You’ll become more confident, more poised, more porny.
Also pro tip: begin your encounters by discreetly dropping a rag by the bed ahead of time. We are all weirded out by how quickly an ejected load turns into a sub-thermal icicle, so if you can get that cold loogie shit off of you ASAP, you may also find that it lessens the overall Eek factor a bit.
Good lucky baby, and enjoy the splash zone.
Love,
Your Zad
Dear Zad,
My sugar daddy’s pubes feel like sandpaper against my delicate bussy lips. I’m scared to confront him about it.
I see only two options here:
Either tell him to take a weed whacker to that shit once and for all (which he likely won’t if he has that familiar combo of toxic masculinity and control issues.)
OR – and probably the far more exciting option – cut a hole in his underwear for him to stick his shaft through. Ta da! Therefore, he can still hammer out your bussy without his pubes sanding your shit down into plywood bird feeder from Michael’s crafts.
Essentially, it will be your responsibility as an all-powerful power-bottom to demand that he dresses like Doug Funnie as Quailman during penetration. (And if you don’t get that reference, yes I know that I’m 452 years old but also please educate yourself.) Try and find something kinkier than introducing nicktoons into the bedroom. ~I’ll wait.~
Also, I believe that certain cultures have been fucking each other through sheets for generations, so I’m pretty sure that he can sacrifice one dank-ass pair of bargain bin Hanes for the cause.
Love,
Your Zad
Dear Zad,
My shoulder hurts.
As Isabella Rossellini hauntingly declared in the 1992 gay cult classic Death Becomes Her, “This is life’s ultimate cruelty. It offers us a taste of youth and vitality, and then it makes us witness our own decay.” You’re aging, honey sweetie baby. Possibly even out of relevance. And so I’m here to remind you, while simultaneously responding to your sarcastic submission, that you, too, have a shelf life. The sooner you accept the depressing reality of physical deterioration, the easier it will be.
So as you wake every morning to your body cracking, to lines deepening their stretch across your temples, to your once-bouncy complexion crinkling like a fucking cornflake… just remember that your fucking dumb-ass shoulder is truly the least of your worries. Time is the fire in which we burn. So if you have any co-dependent relationships with cigarettes, sunbathing, or meth.. either re-evaluate them and get your pussy on the chemical peel and collagen train, or as Lisle Von Rhuman also said “continue to watch yourself rot.”
Also, it is likely you just slept on it wrong and none of the above applies. Take an Advil and you should be fine by noon. Thank you for your dumb ass question.
Love,
Your Zad
For more from Zad (AKA Josh), get him on Instagram: @joshmayhewnyc