Hail, darlings! Before I sued Donald Trump, and got fired from Elle, the Ask E. Jean advice column solved five or six problems a month in the magazine. Now, just for the Queenhell fun of it, we’re solving gobs of dilemmas each week, poking bad men in the testicles, and cheering one another on!
For her selfless humanitarian work, such as reading aloud this Ask E. Jean letter, many of us are petitioning for Kathy Griffin to receive the Irving Thalberg Lifetime Achievement Award. Here’s the story:
A year or so after Kathy Griffin, the Emmy-winning, Grammy-scoring star, held up “the head” and took the top spot on the World’s Turd List for attempting to “assassinate President Donald Trump,” she was honored for being a “Luminary” and making the Best Documentary of the Year at the East by Northeast Film Festival. Her movie was Kathy Griffin: A Hell of a Story, and after the audience watched the picture, I was supposed to interview Kathy up on stage. They handed me the mic.
Now Kathy is a stunner. A quick, cultured, brilliant, surprising woman, a delightful actress, and one of our greatest living comics, and let me tell you, the last thing the woman needs is a mic. She can break the sound barrier when she burps.
So what was I to do with the mic? Should I have lifted it to the lips of the woman who’s laugh is charming, ingenuous, and louder than a howler monkey in heat? I mean, she literally holds a Guinness World Record—it’s for the greatest number of aired TV specials on any network by any comedian in the history of comedy—but still, though she’s chic as Gloria Vanderbilt, sometimes when Kathy lowers her voice and whispers, you’d swear it was a sperm whale calling her mate.
Oddly, I can’t remember now if we used the mic, but I’m telling you about the mic because Kathy got lung cancer, and in August, she had half of her left lung pulled out of her chest, and when I asked her to read an Ask E. Jean letter, Kathy, who is still recovering, and who now sounds about as loud as a falling leaf bouncing off a hummingbird, and whose personal code is to never turn down a pal in distress, said, “Of course.”
So, Reader! Turn up your volume! That’s right. Turn it up!
Transcript of that letter:
Dear E. Jean:
I am a woman in my late 20s living in New York City. During lockdown, I had the pleasure of meeting a man in the digital vortex who’s words alone could prompt me to orgasm.
By far, the best sexting exchanges I have ever had. He’s also kind, sensitive and funny. He also happens to be five years younger than me, but that is not even an issue for me. He was a true relief for a less-than-ideal 2020. We had the opportunity to meet when the world opened back up earlier this year and we had the most mind-blowing sex ever—totally exceeded expectations. We even ate in bed, watched TV and cuddled.
During the summer, I reached back out to him to catch up and to get feelers on his situation and offered to see him again. He is currently in between jobs and declined because he did not have the flex spend to pay for a hotel. I, however, am in a very fortunate position due to my line of work that I can pay for a hotel getaway myself without him chipping in.
I offered to pay for everything (it’s only a night or 2), and assured him he need only accept if he felt comfortable. To my joy, he agreed and we are planning on meeting later. After that exchange, I felt quite proud of myself and pretty badass: I went for what I wanted, and did not expect the man to pay for everything due to social constructs.
We are not dating or looking for anything special with one another, and I don’t think this gesture says otherwise. This new series of events is coming two months after our last rendezvous, with little contact in between. This is not something that I do often. I think I feel a very special sexual connection with him due to the fact that we satiated each other with our words for the past year.
So why do I feel like I made a desperate decision?
My feeling is due to our fucked-up gender constructs; but would love to hear if you see something else. Much love to you and the Conflab.
Love—Boss-Ass Bitch or Punk-Ass Bitch?
Boss, My Bed Slat:
You have the right to sex, woman!
You have the right to decide who you do, and who you do not boff.
You have the right to grind your teeth in ecstasy with Mr. Mind-Blowing, on Mr. Mind-Blowing, over Mr. Mind-Blowing, under Mr. Mind-Blowing, around Mr. Mind-Blowing or while listening to Mr. Mind-Blowing read a New York Times article about “choosing a pot wider than the tuber” for planting his begonias.
The man is a champion. Any person who can cause you to let loose the longest rapture known in the Pandemic is alright with Auntie Eeee. He has accepted your invitation. He has given his consent. Your decision is pro-woman, pro-man, pro-sex, pro-hotel, pro-hotel-bed-maelstrom, pro-hotel housekeeper-tipping. So, to answer your question:
Your decision is not desperate, Ms. Boss. It is defiant. It is delicious. Meeting your desires will always feel risky—hence, slightly more thrilling. And the next time you feel like treating a man to a weekend and screwing the ancient sexual code? Tell them E. Jean sent you.
It took two of us!
Here’s Kathy’s terrific Twitter. Kathy’s Iridescent Instagram. Watch Kathy in Season 5 of HBO-Max’s Search Party, and if you want to laugh your jaws off while crying your eyes out, watch Kathy Griffin: A Hell of a Story.
Thank you, Mr. Randy Bick, Touring & Marketing Director, Inappropriate Laughter, Inc, for shooting the video of your wife’s lettering. I expect you will take home the Golden Globe for Best Cinematography.
P.S. On November 4, 2020 (her 60th birthday and the day after the 2020 United States presidential election), Kathy posted a photo of herself with a model of Donald Trump's bloody, decapitated head, again.
And For Any Other Woman Who Wants to Spend $$$ on a Man, May I Suggest
If we are to hold the Senate, we must make sure Rev. Raphael Warnock wins again in Georgia! And Mark Kelly wins in Arizona! (And, Hello, Gabby! Love the fringe, woman!)
And now, let’s spend a little time with the Conflab
The Conflab is where we hash over the questions sent to Ask E. Jean—and where our boisterous community rescues mankind. Today we’re solving the problem of Ms. Boss Ass Bitch, who is treating a man to “a hotel getaway.” She says she “went for what she wanted,” and “feels proud and pretty badass.”
And, as you have no doubt forgotten, she also mentioned that the chap’s “words alone could prompt her to orgasm.”
The question before us, dear Conflabbians, is why she feels like she made “a desperate decision” by paying for the rendezvous.
Of course, she feels strange. Hell, she’s bucking 50,000 years of men making decisions about what she can and cannot desire. So when was the last time you paid for a chap?
And while we’re at it, IS the tongue the greatest sex organ? Can a lover’s words bushwhack your bustle before he/she/they touch you? And can women use their tongues as well . . .as well?
And, is it true what Phillip Roth says in five or six of his novels: “Paying makes it sexier.” What do you say, Conflab?
AskEeeeJean@gmail.com.
What in Blazing Hell Is this Thing?
Was this email forwarded to you and you are now wondering what the heck it is? Ask E. Jean has been solving snafus since 1993. Now the Conflab is pitching in and we’re the #4 Health Substack in the United States. Click here.
P.S. I don’t know a single thing about finances. But I love your pet photos!
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And here’s the latest update on Carroll v Trump
Photo of your advice columnist, Robert Wright; Photo of Senator Warnock, Warnock for Georgia Senate Campaign; photo of Mark Kelly and Gabby Giffords, Jason Bell, Glamor; photo of Kathy Griffin and Emmy, Frederick M. Brown, Getty Images; photo of Joshua Matz, E. Jean, and Robbie Kaplan walking into Federal Court: Jefferson Siegle for The New York Times.
Listen to Kathy Griffin: "Paying Makes It Sexier"