Today's first letter:

How the hell can a 30-year old gay man meet someone in this damn town? Even for sex!

David responds:
Me oh my, you certainly do get directly to the point. No pussyfooting around for you: no tiresome "Dear David and Goblin," no irritating little electronic fund transfers to my checking account. And yet you wish people to pay attention to you!

Okay, first things first: work on that electronic fund transfer while I tell you the secret to meeting someone. I have successfully used this method on others to make them my boyfriends. Others have successfully used it on me to get sex. So either way, you can win. (Different secrets to finding sex can be found at a blog called The Search for Love in Manhattan. They apparently work just as well, except you run the risk of waking up with chewing gum in your ass hair.)

Secret One: Approach people you find attractive and begin a conversation that culminates in you asking them out. I would not bother with the Internet or personal ads or anything other than this direct approach. I did meet Rob on the Internet, but we met in person very soon after that. In the case of every other man I dated for any length of time, I made the first move in person. People seem to appreciate this: I have a near-100 percent success rate, and I am pretty shy when meeting people for the first time.

The two tricks about asking someone for a date are to make sure (or at least have a reasonable suspicion) the person is of the same sexual orientation as you are, and to ask him to meet you at a specific time and place. In this way, you can buffer the blow of a "no": he is not rejecting you, he merely finds that time and place inconvenient.

Secret Two: To be successful at the above (or really, to attract anyone worthwhile at all), you need to embody an appealing attitude. For example, your letter seems frustrated and brusque, which will not do at all. Being confident, easy-going, and optimistic usually works. And if you take the time to notice (and point out) some of the other person's good features (the key here is sincerity, not empty flattery), you get extra credit.

Goblin responds:
Hello hello hello! Daddy said I have to have to answer quick because there's another letter. Daddy says that I usually talk too much. Daddy says I have something called Attention Deficit Disorder.

*blink*

I don't know if this will help but I usually meet people by sniffing their butts. Butt butt butt! Daddy meets a lot of people when he is walking me so maybe you could adopt a dog and regularly walk him or her through a gay neighborhood.

*lick lick lick lick lick lick lick*


Today's second letter:

Dear Goblin and David,

I seem to have fallen for a bartender. Isn't that always bad news?

A Loyal Reader

David responds:
I suppose that would depend upon whether or not he has fallen for you.

Goblin responds:
Hello hello hello! Today when I was walking home from Uncle Bobby's house I threw up in middle of the street. It was yucky. Yuck yuck yuck! Daddy says it was because I didn't eat breakfast yet so I came home and ate breakfast. Now I feel good.

*lick lick lick lick lick lick lick lick lick lick lick*

Daddy says I shouldn't lick people when I just threw up but Daddy always says not to lick! Lick lick lick! But that's what I do! Daddy says I should go to bartending school and come up with something else to do. Daddy says he could use a drink. He always says that when I'm around!

*snork*

Oh yeah. Advice. No that's not always bad news. Now a dogcatcher . . . that's always bad news.