Re-post Monday – My Totally Fictitious, Highly Dysfunctional, And Completely Inappropriate Advice Column

Happy Monday everyone! I stumbled upon this old post yesterday when I was doing some clean-up on the blog. I originally published it in February of 2009, but I don’t think anyone read it back then. I don’t have time to write a new post today, so I hope you don’t mind if I recycle this one. Maybe Mondays on the blog can be re-post Mondays from now on?

Here are my totally fictitious answers to totally fictitious problems for totally fictitious people I don’t know because they’re totally make believe.

Dear Tracey,

My husband and I recently moved into a new home. The next door neighbors brought us a pie and introduced themselves. They seemed nice enough and they have children the same age as ours.

I am concerned about a few things, however. We invited them over for cocktails last weekend and it got weird toward the end of the evening.The husband gave me googly eyes and then touched my boob when he reached for his drink. He also wanted to know if I‘d show him “where the master bedroom was.”

Meanwhile, his wife had my husband cornered in the kitchen and she was trying to rub her body up and down his leg. My husband said she was purring like a cat and told him she needed to take a shower because she was a “dirty, dirty girl.” I managed to cut the evening short by pretending to pass out on the couch while my husband hustled them out the door.

Before they left they invited us to their home next weekend to meet several of the families that live in the neighborhood. We don’t know what to expect and neither of us is remotely interested in becoming a swinger. My husband and I have a great relationship and he’s not interested in anyone else’s hoo-ha. I have no desire to get up close and personal with my neighbor’s wiener either. How should we handle this unfortunate situation?

Signed,

We didn’t realize we moved to Swingtown.

Dear ‘We didn’t realize we moved to Swingtown’,

Being disease free is very important to swingers, so I have no choice but to recommend that you start a rumor in the neighborhood that you and your husband both have uncontrollable, rampant, super-herpes. It’s the only way. If either of you ever have a really gross cold sore on your lip it would go a long way toward validating this rumor. Please also mention frequently that you are allergic to latex because a die-hard swinger may not be put off by one little STD.

You also need to identify the non-swingers in your neighborhood, invite them over for drinks, and do some serious damage control. They may not believe you don’t actually have super-herpes, but since you aren’t going to try to have sex with them, they probably won’t care.

I believe swingers and non-swingers can peacefully co-exist. If you find that’s not the case, wait until the housing market improves, stick a for-sale sign in the yard, and move to a normal neighborhood. You might want to do a better job of vetting your future neighbors next time. Good luck!

Dear Tracey,

I’m a member of the PTO and I’m working on a fundraising committee with three other parents. There is one mom who is really starting to piss me off. She keeps sending elaborate e-mails with flow charts, Excel spread sheets, and summaries about everyone’s responsibilities and she has suggested “goals and benchmarks” for completing everything. I heard through the grapevine that she’s an out of work former business executive that got fired late last year, probably for being totally annoying.

The other moms and I are not her “minions” and I don’t appreciate her trying to turn this fundraiser into the social event of the year. We are supposed to be organizing a bingo game, bake sale, and a raffle so we can raise money for new library books. I’m about ready to tell her to shove her ideas about “swag” and “black tie only” up her butt. And seriously, if she asks me one more time about the dress I’m wearing to the fundraiser, I will throttle her. I’m wearing jeans and so is everyone else.

Signed,

Drama with another mama

Dear ‘Drama with another mama’,

Working on a committee is never easy, especially when someone has decided to use the fundraiser to fill the empty void created by losing their job. She is probably wishing she had an excuse to get dressed up again and hasn’t been able to get used to the fact that wearing sweats every day is perfectly acceptable.

Remind her of the common goal to raise money for books. And since it might help to make your suggestions in a language she understands, why not put everything into a nice PowerPoint presentation so she can feel like she’s at work again.

Then, ask her to come to your house and discuss the fundraiser over margaritas. Show her how awesome it is to drink on the job when you’re not getting paid and can’t get fired. Get completely hammered and make fun of anyone working on the fundraiser that you don’t like. Then drunk dial her old boss and hang up when he answers (remember to *67 first, natch).

My prediction is that you’ll be BFF’s in no time and the fundraiser will be a smashing success.

Dear Tracey,

My life sucks. I got fired from the insurance company where I’ve worked for ten years because the cute, blonde receptionist they hired didn’t like me. Since she gives my boss a hummer every day at lunchtime, she has become the most powerful and influential employee in our department and she got me canned.

Then my boyfriend Jason broke up with me because he’s in love with some whore named Terry. I ran into Jason and Terry the other day when I stopped at Kum and Go for a bottle of wine and a Slim Jim. Terry has an Adam’s apple, a five o’clock shadow, and was holding Jason’s hand. Terry is also way prettier than me and acted like he’d never seen someone at Kum and Go in pink flannel pajama pants, purple Crocs, and yesterday’s underwear.

I’ve also gained some weight so in an effort to lose a few pounds I started taking Alli, the over the counter weight loss drug that Wynona Judd recommended. I had one ill-timed cheeseburger from Sonic and crapped my pants in the car on my first date with a hot guy I met on Match.com. Now he’s got a big orange stain on the upholstery of his passenger seat and I’m (surprise!) still fucking single.

Lastly, I had to spend money I don’t have to sign up on eharmony.com because word’s gotten around at Match.com that I’m a “shitter”.

Signed,

Should I just give up?

Dear ‘Should I just give up’,

When life hands you lemons, grab a cocktail shaker, sugar, and vodka and make yourself a lemon drop martini as big as your head. Consume. Repeat. Consume. Repeat. Consume. Black out. Problems, poof!

And seriously, wouldn’t you rather know you and Jason both liked boys sooner, rather than later?

I know jobs are scarce in this economy but try to look at your recent firing as a good thing. Treat this as an opportunity to switch careers and only accept offers from companies with butt-ugly receptionists.

As for Alli, taking a drug that makes greasy, orange poop leak out of your butt is never a smart move. Please listen to me and not that washed up, fat country singer Wynona Judd, and stop taking it immediately.

Trust me, things can only get better. Good luck to you!

Do you have a problem you’d like my help with? If so, leave it in the comments section of this blog post and I’ll answer it for you. Remember, no question is too outrageous or inappropriate for me to handle. Just make something up.

I do it all the time.