A Gift for You

I have decided that, because I'm feeling generous, I want to impart some wisdom upon you. And because I am especially well-qualified in one particular area, I thought my advice should relate to that one aspect of life: dating and relationships.

Now now, I know that the majority of people would say, "Allison, talk to us about Mock Trial, talk to us about social work, talk to us about classwork, but please, for the love of Allah, do not talk to us about dating."

To those people I say, "Fuck off. I want to give you the gift of my wisdom and if you don't want to accept it, then I can always give you a little lecture about the impropriety of being a rude asshole."

Moving on.

This letter was recently sent in by a loyal fan:


Dear Ally,

I like this guy in my sociology class, but I don't know how to get his attention. If he would just notice me, I think something good could happen. Can you help?

Thanks!

Frumpy in Florida


Dear Frumpy,

Who the hell calls herself "Frumpy"? You definitely have some problems.

Here's what you need to do: Go to the local Salvation Army or Goodwill store. You are looking for bright colors and small amounts of fabric. Find the tackiest, tightest, most outlandish outfit possible. After squeezing your (undoubtedly big) ass into a leopard-print mini-skirt and pink/black zebra-print halter top, go to Sally's Beauty Supply store. You need a temporary hair dye. Get green or blue. Then streak your hair. Make sure the chunks of dyed hair are noticeable. Maybe curl the rest of your hair and straighten the green/blue stuff, or vice versa. Then put on some huge "goldtone" hoop earrings, knee-high boots, and a spikey dog-collar choker.

Unless he has a brain, in which case you should ignore everything I said and try showing that you, too, have a brain by participating in class.

Or you could say hello.

Either way.

Quit being a dipshit,

Ally


Dear Ally,

My boyfriend is seven years older than I am, and he says that if I don't lick his. . . you know. . . he's going to dump me. . . what should I do?

Please help!

Scared in Shawano


Dear Scared,

Where the hell is Shawano?

And let me ask you something: are you twelve? Can you not say "penis"? Or are we discussing a rim job? If the latter is the case, then dump his ass. (No pun intended.)

Seriously, now. These actions are your choice. Don't let any man tell you what to do or pressure you into a decision like that. And keep in mind, if he has to put that kind of pressure on you, he's most likely compensating for something. By a LOT. Who has a little winkydoo? That guy.

Dump him,

Ally


Dear Allie,

Why would you ever try to give dating advice? Did you forget writing Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts' Club? Yeah. . . we know all about you.

You're a bitch,

Obviously Smarter than You in Oregon


Dear Obviously a Smartass,

If you're going to write to insult me, why not try spelling my name right? Hmm? Yeah.

And if you choose to live in Oregon, you can't be that bright.

To answer your ridiculous question, I am writing this because I have found that if you do something wrong enough times, eventually you just stumble upon the correct way. Yes, it takes much time and effort, but I feel that my struggles through the wasteland of relationships that can only be described as horrid mistakes has qualified me to help the rest of you on your journeys to relational bliss.

Plus, Singles' Awareness Day is approaching.

I bet you're really just a lonely little bitch,

Ally


Alright, folks. That's all for now. Trying to save the world one sad and lonely female at a time is tiring. But feel free to send your questions my way. I'm here to help.

What can I say? I'm a people-pleaser.