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Dear Christy,

I recently read about those frat boys at University of Tennessee who gave a pledge an alcohol enema. Call us crazy, but my buddies and I want to try it. My girlfriend is hesitant, so should I just do it behind her back?

-Wanna get butt drunk

Shit-flavored booze:

Let’s start things off appropriately: Did you shave and bleach your asshole so your rectum looks its best when your besties shove a tequila-filled hose up there? Next, are you kids going to enhance the experience by dipping your balls in lime juice?

Oh my bars, you’re an idiot.

Seriously. I can’t believe I’m even answering this question.

Yes I can. I want to berate you in public.

When that University of Tennessee Pi Kappa Alpha dude went to the hospital for receiving an alcohol enema last week, he was admitted with a 0.448 blood alcohol level.

That’s lethal. We’re talking hardcore blackout — like when you and your boys chase peach schnapps with cases of Bacardi Breezers. Rough like cowboys.

Booze is delicious nectar, my friend. When that warm whiskey stings the esophagus, it’s like a firecracker went off in — well — your anus.

Alas, if you must absorb alcohol through your asshole, with the help of your comrades, then so be it. We don’t recommend it, doctors don’t recommend it, shit — your arsehole don’t recommend it.

Don’t come running to Fantz in Your Pants when the ER calls mom and dad with a report of alleged sodomization.

Grow a sack and drink the booze, dummy.

Dear Christy,

I’m only 23 but I already know I can’t have kids. Is this something that I tell dates right away? Do I get to know them first and see if I want to be that open with them? Or will I scare them off?



You may be barren on the inside, but your fruits shine bright on the outside. Look at those supple melons.

Aw, B-girl. Silver lining: You may not be able to have kids, but there are plenty of kids out there ready to have you. (Cue glitter, balloons, fast claps and Lionel Richie).

Back to your quandary. When we begin dating dudes, we don’t reveal how many lads we’ve laid or what the STD flavor of the month is, so there’s no need to reveal such personal information off the bat.

If you’re in it to win it (not Charlie Sheen style), you’ll eventually need to be honest with him.

How long do you wait?

I don’t know. Don’t you kids bang and wed within six months of meeting each other these days? Oh. That was me.

You’ll have to gauge how each relationship flows individually. If you bag a baby-fever boy (not a Bieber-fever boy, I think that’s butt-chugger up there), obviously, you’ll have to break the news to him.

You’re talking about “breaking” the news, but this doesn’t mean you are flawed. This doesn’t mean you are less likely for love. So what if you have bum ovaries. Most of us do. It’s not something any of us need to apologize for. We’re just special.

Just make that winning personality shine through and it’ll quash his need for spawn. If you decide you do want a kid eventually, you can bag a litter of orphans or foster friends, just like we should ALL SHOULD BE DOING at animal shelters.

Good talk.