Lots of people ask for advice. Not from me, but from people like Dear Abby. What does that crusty old bitch know that I don’t? I sent her that question, but she never responded to “Snowman from Fuck Yourself.” So, I figured I’d respond to some of her questions. We’ll see who’s the fuck-up now. DEAR ABBY: I have gotten myself into a “pickle” and I don’t know how to get out of it.
I rent a house with two roommates (both males) and have always followed a strict rule of not dating roommates or co-workers. One night, I came home after having a few drinks with friends. One of my roommates was up and we started talking. Then he started kissing me. I wasn’t thinking clearly, and didn’t object when he trotted me off to my room.
I do like him, but only as a friend. There are no sparks for me as there are for him. I don’t want this to happen again, but I don’t want to hurt him either. In an ideal world, I’d like to remain friends and roommates, not lovers. Do you have any suggestions? — CAN’T BELIEVE I BROKE MY RULE IN FLORIDA
Dear Can’t Believe, First off, no need to put those quotation marks around “pickle.” It’s a pretty common expression, and I think I can assume that you were not actually trapped inside of a pickle as a result of banging your roommate.
What can you do now? Well, that’s easy. You can construct a time machine, go back, drink a little less, and have some boundaries. But since that is likely well outside your abilities judging by your choices in roommates, let me just give you a tip: Stop moving in with people who really want to fuck you. It’s never going to work out. You’re bringing home strangers while he’s smelling your towels. You’re constantly deflecting his offers, he’s setting up 4-80 web cams in the home you share. Next time, move in with someone YOU want to fuck who doesn’t want to fuck you. Trust me, it’s much more entertaining and time-consuming to stalk than to be stalked.
* DEAR ABBY: I am a girl in high school and have a friend, “Joey,” who is gay. Joey saw another guy, “Eric,” who he thought was cute, and he made me go over and ask Eric’s friend if Eric is gay. His friend told me he is straight.
Wow, that’s a real pickle. See what I did there?
Here’s the thing, you can’t really claim dibs on someone who is never going to bang you. For example, I like hot women. If I claim every hot woman in the world, that’s my prerogative, but I can’t be pissed off when the hot women go elsewhere because their kind and my kind don’t fuck. It’s just not done.
To make a different analogy, it would be like your armless brother claiming your dad’s motorcycle gloves after his death. He doesn’t get to use them, but he’s taking them out of circulation for everyone else.
I’d say get rid of your friend. That’s no real friend. I know that Glee makes it look real fun to have a best gay buddy, but that’s TV.
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DEAR ABBY: My husband’s first wife died about a month after my first husband, and after each of us had been married for more than 40 years. As members of the same church, we shared our experiences and began dating about two months after his wife’s death. We didn’t stop grieving; we grieved together. We were married 11 months later. No one realizes how devastating the loss of a spouse is until they have experienced it. — MARION IN MCHENRY, ILL.
Dear Marion. How is that a question?
Look, I get it. You got married before the grass over your husband’s grave needed cutting. Frankly, I don’t give a shit. You were married for forty years, and from Illinois (by the way, learn the two-letter abbreviation for your state, bitch) so you must have been at least forty-eight years old. That’s pretty far past your prime.
What boggles my mind is that you wrote in to tell me how nobody can possibly know what it’s like. I hear that shit all the time. You couldn’t possibly know what it’s like until you do this or that. Maybe you’re right, but I think that most times I have a pretty good idea. A boob felt pretty much like I imagined after touching one for the first time. Having a broken arm felt pretty much like it would expect. So I think that having a dead spouse would also feel like I expected: Tremendous relief and horniness.
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