Christy Fantz
Christy Fantz

Dear Christy,

My boyfriend almost blew three fingers off over the weekend lighting fireworks. Was it rude of me to scream in his face as loud as I can while we were in the ER, “I fucking told you so!”?

—Boys are idiots

Girls are gullible:

Poor girls. We’re lured in to the “gentleman” facade with sex and roses. Then we see that boys only grow into bigger (and fuzzier) boys.

Yet we still bang them.

That old proverb, “boys will be boys,” has been muttered ever since the Virgin Mary watched her son change water into wine.*

Guys always have and will continue to act in prepubescent ways. Some in an awesome way: My grandpa was in an official adult farting contest. We have it on cassette tape. (Think flash drive, millenials). And some in a childish way: They urinate names in the snow, measure dicks, chug beer, shoot each other in the ass with BB guns, jump off roofs and they alllllll love to blow shit up. And if they lose a phalange, well we can’t all be MacGyver.

Although fun to scream in his face, it probably doesn’t much compute. And it makes you look crazy in a room full of distress. (Meanwhile, he’s probably behind authorized personnel doors somewhere trying to balance on the back tires of a wheelchair. Add one cracked skull to the tab, doc.)

Scream it through the roof, but it will happen again. He knows the risks. That’s why he does it. He’ll feel the pain one day when he has to tug his tallywacker with just two fingers. (Tallywacker.)

*I want that party favor.

Dear Christy,

I did some pretty skeezy things, and my wife left me. I’m a musician, so I wrote her a whole album to try to get her back. It’s not working. Advice, please.

— Thick with emotion

Fake Mr. Thicke:

Skeeze isn’t just brushed over with chirping birds and a whistle, Robin. (Since I’ve got you on the line… you have a girl’s name.)

A nice try though, heartbreaker. Everybody wants a love song. However, she may have a hard time listening to you onomatopoeia love sounds through a low-fi cassette tape, while picturing you plugging up a two-bit whore.

If she left, you probably did some damage. If you really want her back, have heartfelt talks, listen to her concerns and repair the damage. Regain her trust. Don’t pen her an entire album. That’s just shooting your wad way too far and nobody wants to go fetch it. (It smells like asparagus.)

Unless you married a princess, us girls don’t ask for much: Don’t lie or cheat. Pull your weight. Be kind. Don’t stray. In all: Don’t be a dick.

If she cheated on you and tried to gain your trust back with a new car, would you forgive her?

Nevermind. Of course you would.

Boys will be boys.

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