QI’m a 25-year-old male. I’m a zoophile and always have been. I’m a longtime reader (I’m sure you’re thrilled), so I know my interests aren’t on your approved list of sexual activities. Not trying to argue that point. However, it’s clear what turns my head when I walk down the street and it’s never the person holding the leash. I know from your column and many other sources that once your brain is “wired” a certain way, “rewiring” it is unlikely (snowball’s chance in hell), so this isn’t going to go away. My question is what do I do?
I don’t care if you print this. I’d just like another opinion. I mean, honestly, who else would answer this anonymously, for free, and I actually have some faith in his judgment? —Really Unsure for Future
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Finally, RUFF, build a nice, tall fence around that yard, OK? And seeing a shrink probably won’t make you wanna screw humans but, hey, it couldn’t hurt.
QOn my 21st birthday, my mother got so shitty drunk that she had to buy a pair of pants off a gas-station attendant after she pissed her own. She dropped her giant bag of pot in the limo. We put her to bed and she got up and tried to screw my roommate. Then she fell out of the top bunk of his bed and hurt herself so bad she grabbed her car keys and left. She got a DWI on the way to the hospital, where they found out she broke her rib. What does all of this do to my psyche? —Please Answer Me
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