Dear Scabby: I’m really embarrassed to admit this…but I just shat a bunch of skittles out of my womanly parts. I haven’t eaten skittles in over a week. Woman to woman, has this ever happened to you? Help me solve the mystery? -MYSTERIOUSRAINBOWINMYPANTS
Dear Mysterious Rainbow In My Pants: I like to eat Skittles regularly because it loosens my fillings and gives me an excuse to get high off nitrous oxide at NYU dental school and flirt with the X-ray technicians. You, however, should refrain from eating too many at once because it can turn your tongue brown, though the average person would have no way of telling the difference when it comes to mine. Nowadays everyone thinks it’s substandard to eat candy that’s not covered in cacao nibs and Himalayan sea salt, which is really just the bourgeoisie’s sad attempt to recreate the high of dipping French fries into a Wendy’s Frosty.
My refusal to buy or wear underpants has left me especially vulnerable to the elements and transference of disease by osmosis, but why would I pay for underwear when my pubic hair does essentially the same job for free? Old pennies, vodka-soaked tampons, batteries, root vegetables, spiders that got lost on their way to my mouth and anything with a handle have all found their way into my birth canal, but never Skittles. If the worst thing coming out of you is candy, get over it and enjoy your free snack, unless they’re Skittles Chocolate Mix in which case you should call an OB-GYN stat.
Dear Scabby: I’ve been courting someone for a while and it’s going well – to an extent. When we started seeing each other this person was clear with not wanting something serious which I was fine with. Then after a while he said that he was starting have feelings for me after all. Now again he is being avoiding and I am okay with some distance, but am starting to feel confused. Is leaving the city and becoming a zen monk my best alternative here? -RECONSIDERINGNIHILISMASAVIABLEOUTLOOKONLIFE
Dear Reconsidering Nihilism as a Viable Outlook on Life: I can see you now, shattering 200 years of uninterrupted silence at a Tibetan monastery in a desperate bid to convince yourself and everyone else that you’re, “totally over him.” If someone says they aren’t interested in dating right now, that means they’re not interested in dating you. Ever. You probably think if only he went to therapy or if his ex would stop DMing him that you two would have a fighting chance, but in reality, he’s only keeping you stowed away for desperate times like a lifeboat hitched to the side of a ship you pray you never have to use.
Aside from his parents, no one has praised his specific brand of mediocrity quite like this until you came along. Lest you forget, men have it hard, too, especially straight white men. They’re never taught to adequately express emotions and are furthermore subjected to oppressive, jargon-heavy laws like “don’t rape people” and “you can’t hit your wife.” It’s always hard seeing my ex pretend to be happy with his new wife and kids from my burner account, all the while knowing he’s fantasizing about me and my blowjobs he always pretended to hate, but sometimes people leave you just because they’re scared of how much they love you.
Dear Scabby: School is nearing an end and finals are getting very stressful. I am worried that I will not be able to balance a healthy social life and keeping my GPA up. on one hand a healthy social life is important for good mental health but on the other hand if I don’t get into college my family will disown me. -STARINGATALAVALAMPFOR5HOURS
Dear Staring at a Lava Lamp for 5 Hours: I’ve never met someone with both a lava lamp and a social life, which leads me to believe your nights out consist of little more than feeding stray cats and volunteering to buy the vegetable platter for your annual Galentine’s Day get together. Your best bet is to combine your academic life with your social life, and by that, I don’t mean sleeping with the professors, which in my experience has only led to automatic failures and their repeated pleas for me to stop contacting them at home. Trying to befriend your instructor will probably earn you a pity A and shouldn’t be too difficult considering you seem like a kid who’s usually partnered up with the teacher, anyway.
Being disowned is a blessing in disguise. Will you miss your mother’s backhanded compliments about how your new haircut really emphasizes your nose? Do you enjoy telling your father a detailed twenty-minute story only to have him turn to you, seemingly lobotomized, and blankly inquire, “Huh?” Being disowned is similar to being stuck in a bad relationship but not knowing how to end it, until suddenly one day they leave first and you have to pretend to be upset, except in this situation you were dating them for twenty years and weren’t allowed to touch the thermostat.