Dear Christy,

I'm into polyamory and I'm interested in flirting with a monogamist, but he doesn't know I'm poly. Any advice on how to flirt with a mono?

— Looking for Love

Poly y Mono:

Polyamory stretches beyond my scope of emotional maturity. (Quit trying to bone me, people, I'm married. Plus, guilt has me bound to Lucifer's Inferno. And I burn like a pasty Brit lubed in coconut oil.)

Dust off your shiniest flirt and go after him. You should tell him early on how your love works, lest you end up in a lengthy pursuit that proves unfruitful. The dynamics of a mono/poly sandwich could be challenging with clashing ethos, but maybe you can Red Rover him right over to your team.

Keep in mind that there's a hefty population that doesn't understand the nonmonogamist lifestyle. The majority of humankind has been battered and fried in monogamy — and aside from hapless links to reality TV and free porn, polys can face unfortunate stigmas. But fret not. One day it will be as wayward as Kansas' son.

Carry on. (Crickets?)

Tell him you're a hot broad who likes to share. He may never be your one true love, but you can both put your paws on other people.

If he turns that down, consider me illiterate in Dude.

Dear Christy,

My girlfriend wants me to go home with her for winter break, but I just want to ski and get stoned. Am I a dick?

— Baked on Break


Powder Puff:

You're not a dick. You're a college student. Trips with lovers should be reserved until after marriage, which should be reserved until after 30.

College is a time for orgies, drugs and occasional studying.

I mean heavy drinking, cheating on tests and anarchy.

I mean ...

Just tell her you'd rather hang with her fam in the summer. Your break from the throes of university should be reserved for what tickles your testes — like humping snowballs. Or whatever it is you skiers do.


I have a fantasy of giving Santa a lap dance. I know it's strange, but I'm sure it's not the strangest comment you've heard.

— Santa's Little Helper

Mistress Claus:

It's not the strangest, but it's weird. (Is it his eyes how they twinkle? His nose like a cherry? His cheeks like roses? His dimples so merry?)

Condolences for deterring your eroticism, but Santa is a Christian man who is happily married. Plus, you may have to throw up your sash for a mall Santa because Mr. Claus is pretty busy right now.

I have a handful of friends who would gladly put on a Santa suit and indulge in your fantasy. And I'm sure nearly any other single man would oblige.

I'll leave you with a ditty: 'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through your thighs, Santa's creature was stirring, as were his cries. Your pasties were hung by the chimney with care, in hopes that St. Nicholas would soon whip out his custard slinger.

You don't rhyme.

Christy Fantz: 303-473-1107, fantz@dailycamera.com or twitter.com/fantzypants