Dear Christy,

I started dating a millennial who's 23 and I'm 41. The age difference doesn't bother me, but at a weekend party I heard one of her guy friends call me "grey balls." What's with these millennials? I'm still spry, she and I like each other, but I can't move past the friends' immaturity. Maybe I should go find someone my own age?

—Maturity trumps millennials

Gen Xer:

Oh Mylanta, your sniveling is scathing my sciatica.

Tangent: Sing with me! We are a part of the alliteration nation. (Dammit, Janet.)

Everybody CALM DOWN about millennials. They soar into a tizzy when other generations ride them, and I don't have enough craft beer-soaked Adderall to quell that riot.

Grey Balls, meet cradle-robbing: a red-hot trend that's been raging for centuries. Your problem with her friends isn't necessarily generation-related — it's a lack of maturity.

Millennials have hardly strayed from other generations. The Silent Generation was forced to hit the ether pipe when Baby Boomers hogged gas and blasted eight-tracks. The Boomers would OD on Vitamin K while trying to figure out how Gen Xers shoved DVDs into a Betamax. Then the Xers would hop on a booze-soaked opioid rage while trying to figure out SnapChat.

(Plus, just the mention of "millennial" throws Baby Boomers into a T-9 chain-forward texting seizure: "Fw: FW: Fw: FW: TOO FUNNY: Fw: Had to share: FWD: PLEASE READ.")


Your problem isn't dating a millennial with millennial friends. It's letting immature antics deter you from a satisfying relationship.

Remember back in the day when you would throw Zima bottles at Baby Boomers during Rancid shows? And when you planted explosives in their mailboxes? Ragging on the older generation is the circle of life. Let the young shits ride your saggy ass — heighten the humor by playing into the punches. Challenge their weak livers via chugging contests. See whose balls hang closest to the floor (spoiler alert: yours). Sword fight after popping Viagra.

When you're done teenaging, go throw out your back while plowing some young ass. I'll fax you my cane.


My Gentleman Lover texted me: "I just read '7 Ways to Discipline Your Wife' on It's quite possibly the worst piece of trash I've ever read. It's an article supporting domestic abuse under the guise of 'holiness.'"

I skimmed it. My iPhone is pissing lucky I'm not PMSing anymore, because it would've taken the brunt.

"How should a Christian husband go about his duty of disciplining his wife whom God has placed under his authority?" the article reads.

I'll give you seven easy steps, fools.

Step 1: Throw your Bible at her.

Step 2: Take your Bible to church and have a minister absolve it from its sins (the book inflicted harm, not you).

Step 3: Collect pats on the back. You're a man, baby.

Step 4: Go home and enjoy begrudging sex from your wife.

Step 5: Make her cook a fine dinner or she gets the Bible again.

Step 6: Keep telling yourself you're a good man.

Step 7: Throw on your wife's panties and flip through dick pics.

God will wipe out your sins if you repent.

*Just the tip: I realize all Christians don't condone this behavior. Thanks.

Christy Fantz: