Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Dear Crabby

What a nice break in the tear-inducing, knuckle-wringing, math-paralyzing week! It's time for Dear Crabby! PHEW!

Dear Crabby,
Um, I'm a GUY. As in: A MAN. But I decided to get some boudoir pictures taken for my fiance as proof of what I looked like when she agreed to marry me. They were supposed to be tasteful. But the shoot went horribly awkward before I could even explain why I wouldn't shave my chest. And let's just say there was at least one military cap placed atop my head. It turned out really terribly if I need to say that. I'm worried that the super amazingly bad pics will show up somewhere. I don't know the photographer well, and I don't know what to do now. How can I make sure they don't show up on some tumblr account or something?! 
Yours truly,

Well, Embarrassed,
There's really only one thing you can do. Why don't you go ahead and email me the pics and I'll do some laughing hysterically super-awesome highly technological watermarking to keep your allegedly "tasteful" pics safe. If I accidentally send them to everyone I know, I apologize in advance. But, seriously, you should know that there is no such thing as "tasteful male boudoir pictures." Really? What possessed you to do that? More importantly, what possessed your fiance to MARRY to you!? You sound different and weird and vain. Good luck, bro. Move to Europe and consider a career in weird, hairy adult films.

Dear Crabby,
How long is "too long" to breastfeed? Do people really get that upset by it?
Bottles don't Only Offer Booze

If you're old enough to ASK about breastfeeding and access a computer and type that question after learning to read and write, you need to step away from the teet. Also: Somewhere in my logic is an argument about strip clubs and seeing breasts in public, but I can't quite figure out the joke yet. I don't know. Ugh.

Dear Crabby,
OMG. I GOT A HICKEY. A HICKEY! WHAT DO I DO!? HOW DO I GET RID OF IT?!?!!? MY DAD IS GOING TO KILL ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!11

Um, okay...Job 1 NSSH?! STOP YELLING AT ME.
Now, getting rid of a hickey is very simple. All you need to do is go back in time to elementary school when you learned to give yourself a hickey on your arm and ABSORB THE LESSON. Then bop ahead to middle school and teach the guy sucking on skin to stop doing that because he's an idiot. Then quick hop back to the 1980s and say "What up!" to me and my bowl cut before eventually traveling back to the beginning of whatever terrible date you were on tonight and call in sick. Easy peezy.

Wow. SO MUCH GOOD ADVICE TONIGHT. Did I miss the mark on these? Did I miss your question? Go ahead and shoot me an angry or super-complimentary email at and I'll decide whether or not I want to waste my genius on you.

1 comment:

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