What to do About Hungry Cougars

As a young, tiny man, how do I protect myself from a pack of rabid cougars (ie, older women) molesting me at a concert? Keep in mind that I’m on acid. (this happens a lot)

Sincerely,

Joe Lazauskas

Dearest Joe,

You want to do what now? I think I’m failing to see your dilemma. Also, I’m glad you clarified because at first I assumed you were talking about this kind of cougar, and was simply going to say, “poisoned hog corpse.”

I’ll take you at your word that this is actually a problem for you. Is it just that you are so irresistibly adorable? Or is it that older women these days are simply more free with their sexuality?

Maybe the problem is that you’re on acid. Sex with older, more experienced women is always more appealing when the walls aren’t dripping—though if you’re dead set against being swarmed by older women, try wearing a Justin Bieber tee shirt to the concert. Unless you’re AT a Justin Bieber concert. In that case you have bigger problems than acid and cougars.

The nearest crisis I can relate to happened in Memphis a several years back, during a Prince concert. Did you know I love Prince? Yes, and I was standing where members of Prince’s band came offstage during sets. Renato, the keyboardist, smiled and gave that half-bow with his hands together in that Namaste thing. I think he was just afraid someone would crush his hands, which is probably not an unreasonable fear. Bassist Rhonda Smith was a hottie, but she wouldn’t give me the time of day. Greg Boyer, the trombone player, he was the real deal. A man of the people.

Anyway, this doesn’t have anything to do with self-defense, and it has hardly anything to do with your question at all, except that it was about a concert—I’m sure that the story of how I used a voodoo doll and a handful of rice to save my life in the back-alleys of Memphis that night would be a much more practical thing for me to discuss. But the bottom line is this: if your biggest worry is how many women want to have sex with you, I should really just kill you and wear your skin around.

Xoo,

Kermit