FANTZ: I want my friend with benefits

Dear Christy,

One of my female friends just broke up with her boyfriend a couple of weeks ago. I am interested. But how long do I need to wait (without being an insensitive creep) before I attempt to go from friend to friend with benefits?

–Loyal Friend

BFF to BF:

Take it easy.

A journey from chum to railed-like-a-rusty-rebound could end up ramming you in the rump. And not in the good way.

Ah, the wretched rebound route: Begin as bar bud. Convert into couch companion. Become bitch boy. Hug genitals. Shrink(age). Retract to friends.

And, now she’s banging the bartender.

‘Tis a dilemma that encompasses two scenarios:

–Is there a mini window with this broad? As in, does she jump from endless affair to endless affair? If so, it is dire, good sir, that you squeeze in the shaft (window shaft, pervert) and stuff her like a saltmarsh sparrow. (Scientists told me those are promiscuous birds. Sluts.)

Or…

–Is she independent? Does she need time to chip off the crabs before she takes on the next mate? If so, as a friend by her side you need to lay in wait for the perfect pounce.

Regardless, let her conquer the rebound. Likely, she’ll need a rod to ride for 30 minutes, then she’ll be in search of a man to marry.

You need to find an obtuse friend with a six-pack and a loose zipper. Alas, the next remorseful morning when she peels the sticky film of grain liquor off her cheek, she’ll catch him as he’s ceaselessly rapt with her screensaver.

Eureka! Ah, how she pines for an adult conversation. This dude is a dolt.

And now look who’s banging down your boxers.

My pleasure.

(Or, you can buy her a vibrator, paste your face on it and hope the “subliminal” message reigns triumph. You’re weird.)

Fantz,

My girlfriend talks like a trash can. I cuss like a sailor, but I’m a dude. How can I go out with her in public without being humiliated? I just want her to act like a lady.

–Embarrassed

Prince Charming:

Mel Gibson, Kim Jong-Il and Charlie Sheen formally request your presence in Chris Brown’s champagne room. Sword fights are on the agenda.

If you want a princess, attempt allure. All-what? Mel, inform the boy.

Sugartush: Girls who play with the boys are far superior.

When I talk like a prohibition prostitute in public, my husband responds with a lively: “Ladies and gentleman, I give you the most beautiful woman in the world.”

Tell your woman to call me while you go bag a debutante.

I’ll give her a lady.