Q: How many Gulf oysters does it take for a person to see results from the aphrodisiac qualities that they are said to possess? My wife and I were recently visiting Galveston and shared three dozen to no avail.
Name Withheld
February 2011

A: Ah, the oyster. The most delectable and voluptuous of all the sea’s fruits, supple and salty, posed there on the half shell like Aphrodite herself. The Texanist has been known to wantonly lap up piles of these lovelies in sessions that last for hours, and although the purpose of such binges has been more epicurean than erotic, he has not failed to take notice of the effect a boatload of bivalves has on his libido. And, truth be told, the results have ranged from “Katy, bar the door” to “Katy, not tonight, the Texanist doesn’t feel so good.” See, the thing they don’t tell you about oysters—or cobra blood, powdered rhinoceros horn, Spanish fly, tiger penis, barbecued beef ribs, skink flesh, wolf meat, and all the other ingestibles said to possess aphrodisiacal qualities—is that eating an amount sufficient to produce the desired effect may also leave you feeling too full to perform (such is the case, at least, with tiger penis—very hard to digest). Another thing they don’t tell you is that any uptick in sexual desire that appears to correlate to the “love potion” is actually derived from the eater’s openness to and hunger for such an uptick in the first place. And it is clear, to the Texanist at least, that on the evening in question you were simply not “in the mood” for an uptick at all. Which happens. Surely Mrs. Name Withheld understands that these are mollusks, not miracles. But you shouldn’t get your dauber down. The night wasn’t a total loss, after all, as you were able to enjoy 36 of Galveston Bay’s finest, probably chased down by a few cold beers, and catch all of  The Tonight Show  to boot. What could possibly be better than that?

Q: I’ve always allowed my dog to sleep in bed with me, but I have just moved in with my boyfriend, and he doesn’t want the dog in the bed or even the bedroom. So far I’ve gotten my way, but it’s beginning to have a negative effect on our relationship. How do I keep both of them happy and in bed?
Name Withheld

Lubbock
January 2012

A: Let the Texanist get this straight: you want to know how to keep a man and a dog happy in bed. Heh. Well, it’s the Texanist’s experience that . . . ahem. So, well, if the Texanist understands your query, you want to know how to keep the dog in the bed and, at the same time, keep the man happy in the bed. Rather, keep the man happy in bed with the dog. Please pardon the Texanist. Not  with the dog, of course. The dog will just be there while  you are with the man. Or not. You don’t have to be with the man. That is not the Texanist’s point. Especially with a dog watching. But you see—okay, well, it looks like the Texanist’s editor is telling him that he’s out of space here for this month. Everyone take care!

Q: I am a young Texan who a few months ago met the most perfect little lady in the world. She is an all-over-amazing girl with whom I have fallen head over heels in love. My dilemma is that she lives in South Carolina. Also, I am not completely aware if she has feelings for me, and I have not heard from her since sometime in July. I have lost my mind over this girl, and I don’t know how I should go about this. Do you have any ideas?
Kyle Ludwick
San Antonio
November 2012  

A: In the absence of more-concrete information concerning the backstory of the quasi-relationship described, the Texanist has found himself challenged to provide adequate advice. Therefore, he has done his best to supply what he considers to be a generally plausible romantic history himself. Here’s what he has so far: on your way to your neighborhood H-E-B this summer, where you were going to pick up a case of beer, a package of bologna, and a loaf of white bread, you smiled at a woman in a car with South Carolina plates as she sped off into the hot San Antonio night. Is that about right? The Texanist jests! He’s sorry. But seriously, as long as there isn’t a restraining order preventing you from doing so, the Texanist sees no reason not to pick up the phone and give her a ring. Or write on her Facebook wall. Or take out witty “Shot in the Dark” ads in as many South Carolina weeklies as you can find. Good luck.

A: Yes, Holly Johnson, it turns out that you can get hitched at the grand old pink-granite statehouse. The Texanist asked, and it is indeed allowed. Actually, the rules are somewhat loosey-goosey. You don’t need written permission and you won’t have to pay a fee, but since the building is, as it happens, the seat of our state government, it is a very busy place and cannot be reserved for the purpose of your nuptials. This goes for both the interior and the exterior, which means that an affair of any real size is out of the question. Also, booze is prohibited (but not firearms!). However, the Texanist, who has now exchanged his advice-giver hat for his wedding-planner hat, has already decided that we don’t want to do the event there anyway. If it is a truly Texas-style affair that you