Dr. Date

Dear Dr. Date,

My close friend wants to be in an intimate relationship with me. I’ve never been with another man before. How can I overcome the mental blocks I might have about being in a relationship with him, both on a physical and emotional level?

—Seriously Curious

Curious George,

At risk of underselling the complexities of your inner dialogue, I’d say your choice is actually easier than you’d think there, Georgie.

I’m assuming that since you took the time to send this note out to your good doctor, your primal instincts want you to rightly maul this man with a club of wood. And I’d say here’s an instance to let your id have a little joy ride.

There’s the possibility that you’ve grown up in an environment where you were forced to make the obligatory gay joke to get the boys off your back. Or perhaps you’ve always pictured yourself kissing the bride one day.

Heed not these past and future myths. A little (protected) roll in the hay never hurt anybody. Take a lesson from your (also very gay) uncle Walt Whitman: “Unscrew the locks from the doors! Unscrew the doors themselves from their jambs!” Yes! Unscrew yourself from your mental cages! Unscrew all inhibitions!

And, ya know, screw.

—Dr. Date

Dr. Date,

I’m four feet tall and my boyfriend is 6-foot-5. Long story short: Sex hurts. Everyone talks about how “bigger is better” and all that stuff, but it just doesn’t do it for me. I literally have to be drunk in order to have any sort of pleasure, and then in the morning my vagina feels the same as my teeth do after an intense trip to the dentist. What do I do in order to get some semblance of enjoyment out of my well-endowed man?

—In the dentist chair

Dentist chair,

I’m obliged to ask a 4-foot girl if she is of the appropriate age to be doing the naked tarantella with a 77-inch titan.

Fortunately for you, I took the “You must be this tall …” sign down from my office after the Great Munchkin Rebellion of 1854 — but the age limit remains.

Taking your cute little word for it, I’ve got four simple letters for you — L.U.B.E.

First, give your damaged runway a week or so break before you allow touchdown. Then, tell your colossal steed to slap it on like a grease monkey and you’ll be makin’ up for lost time in no time. Just make sure the big lug doesn’t over-do it; otherwise you’ll be lying there bored as hell screaming, “GIMME FRICTION” louder than Tom Verlaine. You can kill (disappoint) a man with kindness (too much lube), too.

—Dr. Date

Dr. Date,

Two guys walk into a bar. I take them both home. Now they call me every Friday to repeat the fun, only to find that I’ve moved on to greener pastures. My method to get them to stop: Bring them back one more time but force them to go crazy on each other. That would not only ruin their friendship but also get them to stop talking to me. What do you think?

—Playful Bunny

Bunny,

The way it sounds, not only are you a raging skank, but your heart is black, as well.

I like your style.

Here’s my advice: Why stop at completely ruining their friendships and their dignity? Let’s completely destroy their entire lives.

Next time the deux come a-knockin’ for their trois, tell them they can ménage all right. Then, find out their grandmas’ phone numbers. Tell the grandmas they had better get their old asses to your place quick or else their grandsons are done. Tie up the boys naked on top of each other and make them face their grandmas alone.

But seriously, just tell these boys you have a huge new boyfriend and get yourself some help.

—Dr. Date

Dr. Date,

I found a girl to be my sausage sleeve, but she says I’m a brute in bed. Can one learn the touch?

—Brutus

Brutus,

What you need is a whole new approach. A doctor knows how hormones can rage, but don’t turn it into a full-fledged ’roid rage.

Perhaps it’s an atmospheric issue. Throw away the whip and chains and head to Bed Bath & Beyond for some aromatic delights.

Change up the music. Metallica is great for crushing Bud Heavies against your forehead, but for pleasuring a nymph — not so much. Try some smooth jazz; try some Reverend Al Green.

—Dr. Date