Dear Adalaid:
I'm a pretty good-looking 23 year old gal. And this gorgeous hunk just came to town and I want him so bad! But so does every other woman in town--married and single. Why even homely Harriet Conners is serving him homemade dinners. And she hasn't competed for anything since our sixth grade spelling bee at Elm Street Elementary in 1989. But worst of all is Georgeianna Westcott. Just because her father owns the only car dealership in town, Millcreek Dodge, she thinks she owns this new guy, too. And just because my father owns the only gas station in town, she thinks she's better than me. But I ask, "How far can a car get without gas?" But what I really need to know is what can I do to get this dreamboat's attention and keep it? --Anonymous in Millcreek, WA
Dear Anonymous: Leather.
Dear Adalaid:
I'm a 42 year-old woman and my 45 year-old husband just left me for a skinny, 22 year-old air-head blond who's younger than his daughter! What should I do? --Anxious in Anaheim
Dear Anxious: Grow up and face the facts. A 42 year-old woman is really 62 in man years while a 45 year-old man is only 22. So you can't fight this coupling. It's nature. Get a life--get a dog. You'll always be younger than a dog.
Dear Adalaid:
My step-brother has always been a spoiled pain in the ass. I mean I've had it with him. My parents started me changing his diapers when I was eight and I've been wiping the jerks nose and ass ever since. But everything I do is wrong. And he's always Mr. Perfect. Even when he takes my things and breaks them like my compact disc player and my bike. And he never gets into trouble. But if I just look pissed at him, I'm grounded for a month. Now the creep convinced my parents that the marijuana they found in my room was mine and not his. He stashed the stuff behind my Enclyclopedia Britannica cause he knows I'd never use it. I'd like to knock him stupid, but do you have any better suggestions? -- Framed in Farmington
Dear Framed: It's obvious your step-brother's no fool. He plans ahead to covers his ass. All these are basic survival strategies and one cannot help admire...but don't get me wrong, he is a creep. Actually, what you need is one upmanship with a nice ironic twist. Here's what you do. Take some of his stash and put it in his school locker. But first put it in an old brown bag with a tuna sandwich that time forgot. The smell will keep him from checking it. Then dial a local hot tip hot line from a pay phone. By the time the schools officials, narcs, and juvenile courts finish with the little creep, you'll be a grandfather!
Dear Adalaid:
Dear Torrid: You're putting up an admirable and noble battle of the sexes. But the only sure way to cool things off between you two is simple. Don't fight it. If you crave steak, cottage cheese ain't gonna help. So I say, "Go for it." The sooner you two hit the sheets and smack some flesh the sooner things will start to cool off. Remember, familiarity really does breed contempt. Just look at your old man.
Dear Adalaid:
I thought I'd had it with the media before, but now I'm really ticked. You media-types think you can twist the First Amendment into knots, destroying the justice system and individual's right all in the name of selling newspapers. Now one of you tabloids think it's just fine to bribe someone to get autopsy photos of a murdered and molested six year old girl while the investigation is still underway. This is so sick I can't believe it. And all in the name of "the public has a right to know." I'm also sick of the Woodward-and-Bernstein wannabees who want to tear down any public official they can get traction on and the journalist celebrities who think they're bigger than the people making the news! I not only agree that most of you media freaks should be licensed, I think you should be spayed, neutered and forced to get shots! --Pissed in Prairie Village
Dear Pissed: Any thing you say as long as the SHOTS are Jack Daniels.