Why I'm Trying to Join a Local Volleyball League: I'm All About the Lesbian Spanking

Question: I have just had my heart ripped out by the love of my life. My question is: what the fuck do I do now?—C.S.

Answer: You have taken a very bad spill in the volleyball game of love. Let me be the lesbian physical therapist who patches you up and, with an alarming smack on the ass, sends you back in the game. You’ll be spiking it again for mommy before you know it—but only if we do this thing right. . . .

This is important: Do not rush home and call your ex. Do not call any of your previous ex’s, not even for cheap sex.

That, my friends, is crazy talk. After a breakup, if cheap sex is available -- and if you don't tell your exes that you've broken up with your current love, cheap sex will definitely be available -- you should definitely have it with as many exes as you can, even the possibly psychotic one, you know, the one you have to sleep lightly with or run the risk of showing up in the emergency room, covered in welts, scratches, and bite marks, with no good answers to the nice attendant's questions: Did she use a disinfectant before piercing your nipples ("Does saliva count?"); why are they having such a hard time removing your cock ring ("That would be the Krazy Glue"); and why is there a buzzing sound coming from your rectal cavity ("because it was small, lubed, and irretrievable"). That sounds cool, right, being the talk of Emergent Care for the next 10 years or (your next break up, whichever comes first)? Like I said, "crazy talk." The answer to your problem is not less sex, but more.

Everything else he says, though? Gospel.