Dear Christy,

I worked my tail off to achieve my wealthy lifestyle, and I refuse to apologize for it. My husband just fired my waxer because she refused groom my lady area into the Star of David. I'm so mad. How do I handle my husband taking control of my personal staff? Do you know of a good waxer?


Burning bush:

Congratulations on all the cash. I'll inform my audience of 12, and the prairie dog who will wipe his ass with this column, of your success.

Sorry your husband canned your vagina's personnel. Apologize to the waxer and ask if he/she would be willing to return.

I have a personal staff of negative two, so between where-the-balls-did-three-years-go and booze wrangling, time is oft scarce. Thus, I don't have a waxer to recommend, but I will tell you a Kroger razor and sensitive shave gel works. Your Star of David may wind up looking like a toddler's Christmas cookie, but it will guarantee a job done.

As for reprimanding him, ground him from his allowance until he falls in line. Or just buy a new husband. And don't apologize — compassion can suck your hairy crotch!

Just the tip: Have you read the recent "search engine" literature? It can help you look up shit on the internet, like: Why are Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen dating Methuselah and Moses? Does Mary Duggar's uterus double as a clown car? Donde esta el good waxer, por favor?


Things of that nature.

Dear Christy,

I hooked up with a guy I randomly met six months ago, then he ghosted. Over the weekend I get this text: "Hey, I screwed up by not calling you back." We had chemistry. Should I give him another chance?

—Lonely for love

Ghost of Bangings Past:

Follow these instructions, with commentary from Fantz.

You: Who is this?

Fantz: His high horse is pretty. Upper-hand the fool and knock him straight off. If he ghosts again, see Plan A (below).

Dude: We met a few months ago at Hobby Lobby and hooked up in my Astro van, remember?

Fantz: This is my story; I'll set the scene.

You (three days later): Oh yeah. How are things?

Fantz: If he ghosts again, see Plan A.

Dude: I've been thinking about that day a lot and want to get to know you. Can I take you out?

You (one day later): I'm seeing someone, but it's not exclusive. I suppose I could meet you for a drink.

Fantz: Always suggest a drink to avoid a Golden Corral proposition. If he ghosts again, see Plan A.

Ghost: Sweet! Let's meet at Chuck E. Cheese Friday night for a pitcher of Busch Light.

Fantz: See Plan B.

Plan A: Fuck this shit.

Plan B: Text him that he blows in the sack then go ghost.

Colorful scheme aside, your decision will all depend on your emotional stability. He could do the same thing again. Can you handle it? In the meantime, I have a ripping fine yarn for you: After an evening of solid chemistry and conversation, I hooked up with bar dude. After I ghosted for two months, I texted him to come hang out.

"Who is this?" he texted back.

"That tall bitch Christy from the Whiskey Bar."

"I'll be right over," he texted.

We've been married for five years. And that, my friends, is the definition of fairytale romance.

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