Sex Tips from Christopher Marlowe

Kit knows from tragedy.


So I’m the mayor of a small but pretty terrific town. Government work keeps me pretty busy, too busy for romantic relationships. However, then Aeneas showed up. He too is a mayor. Well, he was before his township burned to the ground. That’s actually how we met. He lives a few miles away and needed a place to stay, along with the other 10 surviving members of Troysburg, so I gave them food, shelter, money.

What can I say? He completely enchanted me. It was as though Venus herself had cast a spell. His smile. His ragged and torn clothing. Yumers. Before I knew it there we were under the footbridge at Carthage Mini Golf; locked in the forbidden embrace as outline in Article 425 of the Penal Code. But then in the morning… he told me he had to leave. He said that Destiny was calling and he had to get the hell out of town. What a line. Who is this Destiny? Is she so irresistible? Am I so unlovable?What a load of crap, right?! Who does that? What is that?



Yeah. I hear ya. That’s crazy. But also I kinda get it… when Destiny calls you must answer her. Mortals and Gods can not resist her. She’s one hot and powerful lady. Just don’t do anything too rash? OK? Practice self care. I heart you.


So there’s this fella. We’ve been dating about a month. He’s incredibly good looking, kind, funny. He’s podiatrist with a vacation home in Montauk! He’s perfect! The problem is I’m just not attracted to him. I mean that vacation home…yes. But, him…. I’m not sure. On paper he is absolutely perfect! He’s everything I’m looking for! He’s everything I need! But when I look at him… well I’m just not feeling it. Surely, my affection will grow in time right?



Nay. You are are not. Your affection will NOT grow in time. After all, “whoever loved that loved not at first sight?” In other words, if you ain’t feelin’ it in your pants by now you ain’t gonna. NEXT!

Fair one, the predicament you have is one for the ages. In my experience, one is often drawn to the “wrong” people. Sexual attraction seems to have a direct correlation to self destruction. Faustus, my bro, knows all about that don’t ya? Do you think that nasty Helen of Troy was good on paper? No. And yet she was the most desirable creature in all of human history. She was the type of person you’d wage a war for, the type of person you make ill-fated waxing decisions for; in short she was irresistible. This dude is not your Helen of Troy. This dude does nothing for you or your lady bits. Dump him and find an unwashed evil creature you can’t stop humping. YOLO. Just remember, have fun but don’t sign anything.


I like this girl. She’s mad hot. The problem is she really likes this rich guy, Andrew. Andrew has car, he’s got enough money to put gas in the car. Me? I don’t have a car. I take the bus. I shop at the Salvation Army and I haven’t gotten a hair cut in 9 months. I tried to ask Ethel out (that’s her name) but just as I was screwing up the courage I realized… take her out? Where am I gonna take her? The sidewalk? What’s a broke mother-fucker to do? How do I woo her?

Broke Mother-Fucker,

You outline an intriguing dilemma. It’s true, “Money can’t buy love but it does improve your bargaining position!” Still, I’m sure your lady doesn’t give a wit about your financial situation. However, she might care about your yeti-man-I haven’t gotten a haircut in 9 months appearance. She might also be less than thrilled about spending an evening with you on a sidewalk.

Fret not, there are ways to fun without money. Perhaps not as much fun… but eh. First of all, Get thee to a SuperCuts. No arguing. If you can’t afford a seven quid for a haircut you’ve got bigger problems than your love life. Next, there are many wonderful things you can do for free, a walk through public park? A perfectly timed trip to your local bakery? If you can get there late enough you might be able score some old donuts before they get thrown out. Who doesn’t love an old doughnut?Put it this way, if she doesn’t love an old doughnut then she’s not the gal for you anyway. Godspeed.


I’m a tad inexperienced. I’ve been waiting for the right one. Now, I’m in love with a boy! I worship him! I can’t wait to step it up and do lots of dirty sex stuff with Chad. But, I don’t exactly know HOW to do it. Chad doesn’t know much either. The other night we went to the Happy Hamburger. I just got so hot watching him suck down that chocolate shake. Filled with desire, I mounted him and began sucking his face most furiously. To my surprise, he did not enjoy this. He started choking. You see, I didn’t realize that he was still eating his fries at the time of the mounting. Thankfully, I’m a lifeguard so I was able to give him the Heimlich. That was pretty hot. I touched his breastbone. Still, I was hoping for more. Ugh! What did I do wrong? What sin have I committed that I must be denied physical satisfaction? I should talk to him about it, right? We’ve gotta talk this out.

—Hamburger Without the Meat


My pet, you must educate yourself before your next scheme. For “there is no sin but ignorance.” Put away these childish toys and let me school you! Look into his eyes, read the moment, or at least wait for him to finish his french fries. Make sure he’s finished his french fries. Do not disturb a man who is eating his french fries. I understand that you want to get your sexy-times groove on and you should! You will! But, you mustn’t rush the art of seduction. Above all don’t talk to him about it! Listen to my Barabas, “Things past recovery are hardly cur’d with exclamations.” Or to quote another poet, as Samantha Jones of “Sex and City” said, “when it comes to sex, spray it don’t say it.” (God, I love to hate-watch that show!). Start over, cause that evening was a disaster.

Next time just LOOK at him… Is he looking at you? Is he finished with his food? If the answer to these questions is yes then pounce, my little strumpet! But if the answer is nay, then perhaps the chocolate milkshake is the more suitable make-out partner for the evening. Love will come. In one form or another. Che Sera Sera. Whatever Will Be Will Be.*


I’m in love. The problem is he is a smoker. It’s my one deal breaker. Seriously, I can’t do that. Unemployed with a credit score of 400… eh sure. I’ve been there. A Donkey-Kong Addict living in his mother’s basement.Sure, I’ve been there. But that stale, dirty, nasty cigarette breath… NO. No sir, that I can not do. I can not be with a man who would pollute himself so foully.

—No I Won’t Do That


Let me just say, “All they that love not tobacco and boys are fools.” Or to put it more plainly, You are INSANE. Independently, Men and cigarettes are the two sexiest things ever and when you put em together… hmmm. DAMN. THAT’S. HOT. Now, I realize this might not jive with the Surgeon General’s recommendation but COME ON! What you don’t think James Dean is hot? What about Marlon Brando? Or DAVID SEDARIS? COME ON!

OK . OK. I get it…disease and smell and stuff. Well then, just slap a nicotine patch on him and pop an Altoid in his mouth if you’re so concerned. Me? I love a man who loves his ciggies… I know it’s BAD. SO BAD. But… it feels good to bad sometimes. YOLO

Dr. Faustus liked to be bad too

*Yeah, I said that before Doris Day. Yup.