I was thinking about the internet today, you guys.

What an amazing collection of knowledge we have in front of us. Volumes and volumes of anything any person would ever want to learn in his or her lifetime. And what do we do? We search for our own names in search engines. We find our own locations on those GPS machines. And we stalk our friends on Facebook, especially the hot sexy people that are friends with our wives. Don’t act like you don’t do that either. The Great Masturbator In The Sky will know if you’re being truthful. Because he jacks it to your lies.

Anyway, let’s get to the mailbag. Caveman’s on vacation, which is kinda funny when you think about a caveman trying to get away from it all:
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People! It’s August! Holy crap, the NFL season starts 35 days! This is the time of the year when the mailbag gets filled up with people asking ACTUAL FANTASY FOOTBALL QUESTIONS. So I want to say thanks to everyone who wrote in — especially all the people who sent in sexy pictures — and apologize to everyone who wasn’t included in this week’s edition. This is the boom season, and there’s just no feasible way I can get everyone’s letters in. There’s also no way I’m going to give this a thorough proofreading, so please excuse any typos. I’m just going to have to hope that there are no shaving seizures below.

Let’s do this.

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Okay, I’m writing this mailbag in the wee hours of the night, having yet to pack for a cross-country flight that leaves at 9:30 in the morning. Therefore, the theme of this week’s mailbag is “what it’s like to get advice from an exhausted and distracted grump.”

Sail these waters carefully, grammar pirates. Methinks typos lurk in the rough seas ahead.

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Holy cow. I asked for more questions last week, and you people F’n delivered. There were so many excellent questions this week that I’ve made this mailbag the biggest, longest edition of the summer — or possibly ever. This bad boy clocks in at over 8400 words, which puts me in Easterbrookian territory I generally try to avoid, but I wanted to make up for recent lackluster performances. And I even had enough great questions for a whole other mailbag (which, before you suggest it, could never happen because I don’t write nearly fast enough). So thanks, everybody. Way to come through.

Also, my apologies to those of you who caught an unfinished draft of this when I accidentally published it earlier today. These things sometimes happen when you have multiple publishing platforms open in neighboring Chrome tabs. #firstworldproblems

Let’s do this. And whatever you do, don’t read this on the toilet. Your legs will fall asleep or you’ll die of a femoral blood clot or something like that.

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Ahoy-hoy. Before we get into today’s submissions, a couple reminders:

1. A lot of mailbags recently have been a little thin in the submissions department. Be sure to email us with your sex and/or fantasy football questions so that the only thing I do around here remains robust and worthwhile.

And 2. As the picture above indicates, I stress again that I am neither a fantasy football expert nor a licensed therapist. I’m just a dude who’s made a boatload of mistakes with the opposite sex.

So yes, this mailbag is both thin and slightly amateurish today, as I was preoccupied this week compiling the twenty most punchable faces on TV. A pity that the mailbag suffers because of it, but well worth it in the long run, I think. Let’s dig in.

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Welcome to another installment of the mailbag. If this one feels a little bit longer than usual, that’s because it is. I hope the extra emails were worth the wait. Some of the topics you’ll find below: drafting players you hate, clingy girlfriends, erectile dysfunction, inexperienced 32-year-old women, Calvin Johnson, friends with benefits, pirates, porn, pirate porn, and adulterous interracial sex. Enjoy.

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I won’t lie to you. Not every mailbag is a winner. But sometimes, we don’t get a lot of submissions. And, you know, it’s not every week where someone’s ex-girlfriend gets murdered. But I try to do my best with what I’m given, and there are some moderately interesting topics raised this week, so please: read on. I just don’t want to oversell anything.

We start things off this week with a positively THRILLING discussion about grammar. This is an actual email exchange, and not my usual style of interrupting a single narrative.

Caveman,
I appreciate your grammar Nazism, as it’s sorely needed and probably not oft received among the core KSK readership. On that note, however, I wanted to amend your comment last week [actually, it was two weeks ago - Ed.] about how one should never use an apostrophe to pluralize. Using an apostrophe is actually the traditional correct way to pluralize acronyms (however, there is debate on this topic). For example, the correct plural of ATM is ATM’s.

That’s all. No fantasy or sex questions for now.

Disagree. ATMs is smoother, cleaner and impossible to confuse as the possessive. “This ATM’s screen is cracked.”

The one true exception — which, in fairness, I didn’t mention in the previous mailbag — is individual letters. “How many S’s are in ‘Mississippi’?”

Well I’m not gonna get into a slappy bitch-fight over this, but I’m just telling you that the style guides I’ve been required to use in school and now professionally (I’m a lawyer, insert offensive remark here, though as a Vikings fan it’s very difficult to hurt me) all mandate apostrophes when pluralizing acronyms. That wikipedia article I linked to says one can go both ways.

I personally agree with you that it makes more sense to not use apostrophes, for the reasons you stated, but it also makes more sense to not put two spaces after periods (especially if you want to avoid the wrath of Slate’s Farhad Manjoo), yet the firm I work for requires it anyway.

Carry on.

The fact that the firm you work for requires two spaces after sentences should effectively negate any argument that what they mandate is correct or accepted, since two spaces is redundant in this brave new world of intelligent typefaces.

There will always be small differences in style guides — should TV shows be in italics or quotes? — but in trivial matters like this I go to the single most important quote from Strunk & White: “Clarity, clarity, clarity.” I save my apostrophes for the possessive, and my readers will never be confused by their use.

**********

That was fun, right? Now let’s talk sex and football.

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Before we get into today’s mailbag — which is a good one, I think — I wanted to address the USC roof-sex scandal that’s been going on this week. Apparently, a member of USC’s Kappa Sigma chapter was suspended from the fraternity after being photographed having sex on the roof of a dorm. As proof that the media is way too sensitive any time the word “fraternity” appears, here’s what Nerve said:

According to the Daily Trojan (no condom jokes in this piece), a meeting between the Interfraternity Council and Panhellenic Council of USC will take place to determine what steps should be taken in response to the incident. One can only hope that this was at least consensual, and not part of some sick hazing ritual, like we’ve been seeing lately.

“Well, someone in a fraternity had sex, so we’ll just have to hope it wasn’t rape. No no no, we don’t want to see all the different photos of them having obviously consensual sex; better to assume that this was a hazing ritual.”

I’m not going to pretend to have all the facts here; the only rush to judgment I’m going to make is that that dude must work out. But I’ll say this: rooftop sex is GREAT. You get plenty of fresh air, maybe a nice breeze on your balls, and there’s a great view of all these people NOT having sex. You feel like a king. I recommend it to anyone, and if Nerve or anyone else has a problem with that, they can go get screwed on a roof.

On to your questions.

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Wow, I had my hands full with this one. This edition of the mailbag doesn’t have many submissions, but the problems that are in here are CRAZY serious. As in, “I spent most of my day fumbling around for decent answers”-serious. You see that banner image? That can be interpreted one of two ways, depending on which email you apply it to. Buckle up, shit’s about to get real.

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Welcome to your St. Patrick’s Day sexbag. I hope nobody reads this, because it would make me much happier if you were all out in bars, drinking heavily and meeting strangers to fornicate with.

First order of business: many people have expressed sympathy and concern last week for Hotwheelz, the virgin with muscular dystrophy whose disability prevents him from being able to masturbate. One commenter noted that he writes about his experiences at Love on Wheelz, and I wanted to pass it on to anyone else who may be interested in his story. It’s pretty good stuff.

And now for our regularly scheduled Q and A session.

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