Katrina S. from Alberta, Canada writes, “Dear Poppy, my live-in boyfriend barely works and I’ve been covering all the bills, but when I tell him he needs to chip in, he gets angry. Our relationship is already on the rocks, but this might end it. What should I do?”
Dear Katrina, let me cut to the chase, your boyfriend is using you like an ATM machine he can have sex with (by the way, if an ATM machine would give us money for sex, we’d have to train bank tellers to use the Jaws of Life, to extricate men, like your boyfriend, after they got their junk wedged in the deposit slot.)
My recommendation is; don’t think of it as “dumping” him, think of it as giving yourself a raise.
Adam B. from Bardstown, Kentucky writes, “Dear Answerman, my mom says sex is better if you love the person, but I’m not sure I believe it. I have great sex with lots of skanks.”
Dear Adam, I’m going to put this in terms you will understand. A McDonald’s Filet O’ Fish may seem like a “great” meal, but it’s really just empty calories and explosive diarrhea, in other words the “skank” of food.
A “great” meal is made with patience and love and care and it’s served by people who don’t wear paper hats. Once you’ve had a truly great meal, you’ll never be able to eat McDonalds again…unless of course you enjoy explosive diarrhea.
Mandy R. from Summerlin, Nevada asks: “Dear Answerman, we don’t get much rain out here in Nevada so I’m thinking about replacing my grass with artificial turf. Will my dog Kona be okay relieving herself on the fake stuff?”
Dear Mandy, fake grass, or as I like to call it a “yard merkin“, is as senseless as covering yourself in tattoos to prove you’re “butch” (yes, I’m talking to you Justin Bieber).
Will Kona be okay dropping ass biscuits on your yard merkin? Dogs aren’t picky, we’ll shit in your mouth if you lie on the floor. But, will she like it? In the same way you’d prefer having coitus with an electric toothbrush.
Allison W. from Metarie, Louisiana writes: “Dear Answerman, I work for a small company and we’re about to have a retreat. The owner wants everyone to stay at his vacation home and said “drinking games, bathing suits, hot tub, yee-haw!”. The last thing I want is to see my co-workers drunk, in bathing suits, in a hot tub. What should I do?
Dear Allison, I’m trying to figure out if you work at a frat house or your boss based this “retreat” on the un-made Seth Rogan, James Franco buddy movie entitled “My Boss is a Fucking Perv, Yee-Haw!”
Regardless, my advice is to find a good lawyer and bone up on caribbean tax havens, because you just hit the sexual harassment lottery! Don’t forget your camera, juries LOVE pictures and videos.
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