|"After identifying the buttocks, thrust your hands out thusly.... "|
Ahoy Chums, Professor Hollyfeld here. providing a welcome change from the dismal naval-gazing of this web log's jowly editor. It has been many months since I've shared my specific brand of home truths with you (The Professor's Home Truths®), and from the looks on the slack-jawed faces I see around the Law Mill, many of you need my help. Many of you also need to breathe with your mouths closed, but that is a conversation for another time.
Mrs Hollyfeld reminded me that in less than month from now, I will be obliged to perform my husbandly duties as demanded by St. Valentine. Yet another example of the Papacy interfering with the the the realms of the secular! Flock of collared ponces are best left to the analsecular, right chum?
But I digress. Soon the Mrs will be on her back, reeling from excessive amounts of Sherry and offending the cats with her upturned nightgown. When will women learn that a true student of the law is not interested in spoils that are not won without the hunt? So, as in years past, I will demand that Mrs Hollyfeld read contentious case law in order to inspire my cobwebbed loins. I will then mount her, thrusting within the limited range of my brittle pelvis, while she brings me to climax with a well crafted explication of the necessity of abandoning the Case Method in legal pedagogy.
I have not forgotten that many of you rare likely without the matrimonial support of someone as caring as Mrs Hollyfeld. Here are some ideas to consider as rutting season approaches:
1. Wash, you filthy bastard.
2. No slurping the soup while on a date! The noise will only remind a potential partner of how horrifying cunnilingus will be.
3. Get a hair cut young man. A rear-wards cap is not an acceptable equivalent.
1. Have a vagina. Many men seem to enjoy this. Those that don't are either gay or suffer from a crippling mental disturbance borne of an unfortunate childhood spelunking debacle.