Askew's Resident Advice Columnist...

Fairly recently, a woman referred to me as a “dickhole.” Due to several factors, this little event caught me a bit off guard and surprised me in several ways, the first being the work itself: dickhole. Now, I honestly can not recall ever hearing or reading this word. I’ve heard peehole, but that was spoken by my doctor when he was giving me some routine STD tests as part of my annual check up/physical. Saying “dickhole” takes a little bit of thought as it’s so easy to stop at the word “dick” or to say the ever popular and far more universal “asshole.” In other words, the term “dickhole” doesn’t come easy and the woman refused to take the easy out with a pedestrian insult.

            Secondly, I am not sure which is worse, being called a dick or a dickhole. When I am verbally attacked, I always try to take the positive out of the assault. If she had called me a dick, I would have turned it into a good thing. So, I’m a dick. I just happen to have a dick and I like my dick. My dick and I have been through some very happy times together (and a few I’d rather not discuss). My dick is something. It is real. So, if I am a dick then I must be someone. I must be real. Being called a dick certainly means that I am a somebody!

            However, she called me a dickhole. What is a dickhole? A dickhole is truly nothing. It’s a hole and even though it exists, it has no substance.

            A dick is something. A dick is there and you can grab it.

            A dickhole is part of a dick and an important part of the dick, but in the end it’s just empty space…most of the time.

            Is being called a dickhole worse than being called a dick? If you team the extra effort of using the word dickhole with the fact that dickhole is the name for empty space, I’d have to say yes.

Psychologists often say a parent’s childhood influences can affect their adult life and/or how they parent their own children, good or bad, years later. Examples: a child of an alcoholic becoming an alcoholic or an abused child abusing his/her own children when an adult.
            As the parent of a young girl, I think I may have inflicted my daughter with something that tormented me as a child.
            My name is Denis. Most of the time, the name Denis is spelled Dennis. Growing up, I was never able to buy a name license plate for my bike. I was never able to buy plastic mugs, key chains, pencils, etc. sporting my name. You know those swivel stands, usually found in souvenir shops, loaded with pre-personalized items that often bring happiness to children? Well, those damn things only brought me disappointment and a grumpy face. Though I always searched for the elusive “Denis” item, I never found one.
            I remember as a child my mother buying a “Dennis” bicycle license plate and altering the NN to look like N. Try as she did, the resulting N looked retarded and I refused to put it on my bike.
            This may seem ridiculous to you, Bob, Tom, Mary, and Susan, but to me it was an annoyance that continues to haunt me to this day-yes, I still look.
            Ladies and gentlemen, I have made the above true for my daughter, Reilly. The influence has become reality.
            Before Reilly was born, my then wife and I settled on two names for our child and we agreed to pick the winning name after the birth. My name for the kid was Reilly and my wife’s choice was a “normal” name.
            Though the final name was a joint decision, you really can not blame Reilly’s mother because her name is a “normal” name and I am sure she was unaware of my childhood trauma. Why did I choose a name guaranteeing Reilly a lack of pre-personalized novelty items?

  Along with their annual Fright Fest airing this Halloween weekend, AMC TV is hosting streaming versions of several cool, old school B horror movies; including the awesome Werewolves on Wheels!
  The weekend is here and it wishes to be harshly treated.