Dear Illegal Counsel,

I’m 26, bi, female, and my idea of a successful long-term relationship lands somewhere between monogamish—awesome word!—and completely nonmonogamous. Basically, I want a primary partner but I enjoy me some women, and a threesome sounds like a great birthday present. I’ve tried telling potential partners about my kinks on the first date. At first, they’re all into it—I’m every dude’s dream, right?—but eventually the men all change their minds about wanting that type of relationship. What am I doing wrong?

Apparently NOT Every Man’s Dream

Dear N.E.M.D,

Better to eat a fur burger than be a turd burglar, I always say.  

That’s not true.  I don’t always say that.   In fact, I have no idea what someone who burgles turds has to do with the advice I’m about to give.

NEMD, you are an emotional monogamist and a physical polyamorist.   You want to share your true self with one special person but you’ve got a clitty boner for the ladies and you don’t think you should have to choose.   

I agree. 

I say fill your Cooche. 

Motorboat your way to a happy life.

As long as you’re honest with your boyfriend about your needs… 

…Get your hand up there like she’s your favorite Muppet. 

Here’s the issue… 

You need to find a man who can compartmentalize love and lust the way you can.  

Not to worry.  He’s out there and he’s likely stuck in a monogamous relationship because society has told him that there is only one way to be in love.  But, he is out there.  

There is one other likely scenario.  The men you are dating may be ok with your love of women but not with the technique you employ to love said ladies.   In order for us to provide further invaluable advice, RJ and I will require several hours of carnal footage to review your technique in order to provide a more accurate solution to your problem.  This is a process we call the Jergens Lotion Method.  

Hope this helps. 

Jetson Stamina

Dear Awesome Pants,

Welcome to Terra Nova!

I am making up your fucking welcome basket as we speak.

Social norms can be a real buzzkill.

Such is life in the prehistoric jungle.

I am personally 100% of the opinion that all women – as far as their appreciation of other women – fall somewhere on the Lesbionic Spectrum.

It is like the Autism Spectrum but sexy.

The LS can range from such varying states of being from Scissor Fanatic to simply appreciating a nice set of tits.

You are clearly on the high end of the spectrum.

Here is the deal with men.

You might want to put on your seat belt.

Men talk a good game amidst themselves as far as their carnal interests, that is, until it actually comes down to game day.

That is while the majority of men would have their guy friends believe that a threesome is something totally on their radar, in truth, that sort of comfort level with evolved sexuality exists pretty equally between the sexes.

When it really comes down to it the chances of him standing in the kitchen in a skirt with his hands on his hips, giving you the classic ‘so what are you saying just me isn’t enough for you then?’ is a strong likelihood.

Trust me, this is an emotional Three Mile Island that you do not want to have to endure.

Good on you that you are having this conversation on the first date.

That is a far better forum than at a later date when the kitchen he will be throwing gravy boats at you from is a split interest.

I loved that gravy boat.

Sex is a lot of different things to a lot of different people.

And so is love.

Keep trucking, sister.

The creep to your freak is out there.

xxoo

Raeleigh Jane

Dear Illegal Counsel,

I was wondering if you have any advice for living with a roommate of the opposite sex. I’m a girl and will soon be living with a guy. A lot of people are telling me they think we’ll hook up, etc. but I think that would be really weird. I want to insure that we keep our roommate relationship totally platonic and happy, so what’s the easiest way to tell him that I’m not interested in being anything but roommates and friends?

Unattached Roommate

Dear Room Minus the Mate,

I fuckin’ got this.

The best way to deal with breaking the sweaty lusty gaze of your male roommate is to treat him like your married and looking for an out.

Feeling constipated?

Talk that shit out.

Nothing screams platonic like your detailed description of the shit you took the night before.

You actually had to brace yourself against the toilet seat?

Fucking awesome.

Giving homeboy a play by play of your daily bodily functions is sure to send yourself rocketing swiftly into his bro category.

Refer to your own mouth as a false vagina when he is eating.

Borrow his computer and spend a couple hours googling shit like ‘how long should my herpes outbreak last’, ‘Vaginal Prolapse’ and ‘Causes of Anal Leakage’.

Don’t clear the history.

Fart with unbridled abandon.

Bust and epic air loaf while making coffee in the morning and then give him a sly wink and tell him you took gold last year in The Quief Olympics.

Umadbro?

Nope just really fucking turned off.

A couple weeks of letting it all hang right the fuck out is sure to turn his outie into an innie, at least as it pertains to you.

That or you may end up with a gay on your hands and it is a well known fact that every girl’s wet dream is to live with her gay best friend.

Either way you win.

You win and you didn’t even need to put out.

xxoo

Raeleigh Jane

Dear Unattached Roommate,

Raeleigh is on the right track here, you want to friendzone this muthafuckah.  With that said, you may have to take it a step further and that is Jetson Staminas specialty.   Please only refer to my advice if you need to take the platonicary to Defcon 1. 

10 Ways to prevent yourself from becoming Boner Food for your roomate.  

1 – Shit with the door open and don’t flush.  

2- Tie your used tampons together like nunchucks and hang them over the curtain rods in the bathroom.  Then leave a note saying “Sorry, I will take these down as soon as they air out. Trying to save money. Thx U.R.”

3- Talk about how much you loathe oral sex… both giving and receiving. 

4-DVR 100 Huntleigh Street and play it at dinner time.  When he tries to make conversation, face-palm him while staring at the TV and nodding in agreement.  Bonus points if you can manage to tear up. 

5-Your ex-boyfriend was a linebacker with a horse cock that ruined you for life.   Use this in casual conversation.  Example “Oh I love!  My ex boyfriend ruined my vagina and I hate sex now.”. Make him feel like he won’t measure up. 

6- Talk in a baby voice at random. 

7- Clip your toe nails and leave them on the coffee table.  

8 – Tell him that your post-sex guilt sometimes leads you to press statutory rape charges. 

9 – Crawl underneath his bed and cut a 4 inch slit in the fabric of his box spring.  Then slide an 8lbs salmon inside.    This will not help your situation one bit but it’s an amazing practical joke.  

10 – Tell him you aren’t interested.  Men usually respond to this.  

Truth is, if you are attracted to him and the feeling is mutual… You’re fucked.

Hope this helps?

Jetson Stamina

Dear Illegal Counsel,

Is there such a thing as an ugly vagina? I’m a bit paranoid about my elongated, asymmetrical, discolored labia (especially on the right side- the left side isn’t as long). I’m Caucasian, but my skin in that area is a dark brown…. I just hate the way it looks I shy away from receiving oral sex because of my paranoia.

I’ve done my research, and I know it’s normal, and in some cultures it’s even admired, however in our own culture with designer-vagina-porn everywhere you look, I don’t feel that this is the case.  Illegal Counsel, what do you think? Would this be a deal breaker for most men? Would you continue to date a girl if you didn’t find her vaginal area sexy?

Unsure in the Pants

Dear Unsure-In-The-Pants,

When I was a kid, my brother purchased a giant inner tube and got all of his buddies together to go sliding.   Every time I tried to hop on for a ride, my brother would say, “Wait your turn homo!”

So, I sat and watched as kid after kid rode the inner tube of death into a horrific sea of injured coccyxes, concussions, friction burns and even ruptured spleens.  (Never thought I would pluralize the coccyx)

When every kid finally tapped out, my brother eventually let me ride the inner tube.  Did I care about the head trauma I was going to endure… HELL NO!

Unsure-In-The-Pants, you are the inner tube of death and any man who gets to ride you is just happy to have the opportunity.  Even in the face of certain trauma.

Have you ever seen a cock up close?  It’s veinier than Sylvester Stallone’s forearms and it looks like it should belong to a basset hound.

We don’t care what your lady bits look like or weather you arsehole is bleached or not.    Men today are just cavemen with mortgages.  Our goals are simple.  We just want you naked. 

Plus, ask any heterosexual male and he will tell you that the ugliest vagina in the world makes the nicest cock in the world look like Ron Howard’s brother.  

Here’s my advice.   If you allow a man to get up close and personal with your sideways bacon smile… He’s just happy to be there, so stop being self-conscious and enjoy it!

All that we ask is that you please wipe your ass from front to back.   

Hope this helps.  

Jetson Stamina

Dearest Meat Curtains,

As a fellow card carrying vagina club member and as massive proponent of surgery of the plastic variety I have an entirely different opinion ‘bout your plight than that guy up there who is just happy to have a safe harbor for his vein dinghy.

There is a very good reason everyone laughs when someone uses the term ‘bumping uglies’.

Because that shit is fucking true.

But as a woman I totally understand the desire to have your junk look textbook.

I mean you can’t expect to make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear but if you think you are in a bad way down there then chances are you are coming correct.

This letter caused me to do an enormous amount of online research into the ‘what makes for a pretty vagina’ department and I will be the first to admit that what I originally thought was the ideal was in fact entirely not the case.

I was always under the impression that the tiny ‘front bum’ variety of vagina in which upon closer inspection you see no hint of labia unless you go spelunking was the luxury vehicle according to the men folk.

 I stand corrected.

Apparently the ideal standard is extreme symmetry with just a dash of labia peeking out.  All other qualities and characteristic, as far as my investigation went, are purely dependent on the taste of the individual.

If your insecurities regarding the appearance of your lady bits are truly causing you duress and god forbid messing with your sex life I suggest you do something about this situation post haste.

Plastic surgery of the female junk is actually the most common and sought after plastic surgery there is.

True story.

Yes it is your vagina and I am sure the entire peanut gallery would have something to say about you having that shit reconstructed but come on, if you had a piece of cauliflower growing off the side of your face you would end game that shit without a second thought.

Within my vagina case study I made the horrific mistake of google imaging ‘vaginal reconstructive surgery before and after’.

This is what I can’t unsee and I am not going this trip alone. 

If your labia is trying to hitch a ride to the nearest bus station so it can escape your ass than yes you can fire it ala Trump but with a knife. 

If your vagina has lost it’s mind and has decided to do whatever exactly is going on here than clearly you are going to need two knives.  I would dial up Raphael of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle fame and get him to pop out of a storm drain near you house with his twin sai.  He would never judge you because first of all ninja’s are a classy set and further he is a mutant.  Nuff said.

Honestly I’ve got nothing.

I think this may have been what killed Steve Irwin.

I hope this helps,

xxoo

Raeleigh Jane

Dear Illegal Counsel

I have feelings for this guy, we haven’t dated yet for one reason… He’s my step cousin but we’re not blood related. My mother got remarried, but I already knew him for many years before that. So now, technically speaking, we are step cousins. Is it ok for us to date? What if this led to marriage?

Kissing Cousins

Dear Kissing Cousins,


Call your cousin and tell him that you have urgent family business to discuss… post-haste!



Put on your hottest negligee and some sneakers.  You will need the sneakers.  He’s on his way and you have to prepare your “Nest Of The Seduction” (said in Antonia Banderas voice)



Get yourself some Lilac scented Glade Plug Ins.  Burn a CD with 7 Perry Como songs. Fabreze the couch.  Buy some wine-in-a box.  Make sure it’s a good year.  I suggest Thunderbird 2010 or 2009 if you can find it.  Do you have a waterbed?  No?  Go buy a waterbed.  Apply copious amounts of baby oil to said waterbed.  Thank me later.



Your cousin is now in your driveway.



Open the front door for him… sexily.    Stand behind the door with one hand gripping the top of the door while the other is holding the front door knob.    Like you’re giving a reach-around hand job to one of the Chicago Bulls.  



Invite him in.  Its time. 



Put that CD with the 7 Perry Como songs on.  You only want 7.   7 is the magic number.  By song number 7, there will be an audible crescendo of sex in the air.  When the song ends.   Grab your cousin and lead him to the “Splash Pad”.  Your waterbed of lust.



Tackle him onto the waterbed.



The baby oil will act as a lubricant and you will both get lodged between the waterbed and the frame.   Now that you are stuck… talk out your issues and laugh about how ridiculous it is that you are somehow both related in some weird family version of Six Degrees Of Kevin Bacon.  



Proceed to have uncomfortable love making whilst jammed in the corner of a waterbed.  The baby oil dries off after about 12 hours.   Feel free to exit after that.



I suspect this will lead to marriage and when it does…  


Your wedding guest list will be a lot shorter.  Which is great, since you will save money and arguments with your cousin lover.  The Chapel seating arrangements are going to look a little lopsided.  Think of how uncomfortable your guests will be when the Usher asks, “Which side of the family are you on?”   Also, your family tree is going to look like a street lamp for a while.     

With that said, you really have no blood relation and all of these anomalies are nothing more than humorous anecdotes.

Nothing in this world is perfect.  At least you have family.

Get to it!

Jetson Stamina

Dear Cousin Fucker,

I want to file this under First World Problems in the subcategory of Small Fucking Town.

If you and your banjo wielding cousin are not already in over your uncannily similar heads as far as progression of this relationship goes I would totally cease and desist.

Sure you have feelings for him but you should crush those feeling down into a tight dark ball of shame and hide it under your bed.

Go out to the club and find someone who isn’t going to already be invited to the family reunion to bring as your date.

Get caught really enjoying anal sex with this person in the parking lot of the Ramada at said event by your weak-hearted Christian Grandmother and it will cause less waves than showing up hand in hand with a fucking relation.

Seriously.

There are two questions I ask myself before climbing on a pole.

1. Did I remember to turn the stove off? And

2.  Were I to decide to hit this on the regular could this lead to a questionable seating arrangement were I to decide to land this Marlin.

I am willing to bet you left your stove on too.

Just don’t do it.

Get off your lazy ass and find someone else.

To tell you the truth I don’t really have time for your constant family drama right now.  My husband just got home and I haven’t seen his ass for nearly three months.

I am on top of the world these days and by ‘the world’ I of course mean his dick.

I hope I have been of some service… sinner.

xxoo

Raeleigh Jane

Dear Illegal Counsel

Why do guys cheat down? Meaning, picking a woman less attractive than their partner. My boyfriend cheated on me with a woman twice my size. Another friend of mine (she is gorgeous) had her husband cheat on her with a bunch of unattractive women. Of course these are just two examples. I was always under the impression that if you are going to cheat, at least make it worth it.

Thoughts?

Confused and Betrayed

Dear Confused and Betrayed,

The whole ‘cheating down’ phenomenon or ‘cheeto-ing down’ as I like to call it is actually quite common.

In my experience men stray for one of two reasons.

One:  They are not getting what they need at home and they are insecure.

Two:  They ARE getting what they need at home and they are still insecure.

I don’t think it has much to do with the actual physical appearance of their partner but more so the confidence level.

Generally women who are hot and quite aware of it tend to exude more confidence then women of the fuglish variety.

For a dude who is lacking in the self love department, having an attractive confident partner can elicit a desire to seek out someone who will make them feel like they are in the power position.

Not that this person is someone this want to parade around their office Christmas party but just for brief and somewhat shallow periods of making them feel like a million bucks.

Generally these women are less attractive than their respective partners and generally less confident.

Such is life in the jungle.

This tenet sort of goes hand in hand with that old hat ‘why do bigger girls give better head?’

Because they care.

If you dude is suffering because he feels you are blowing him because you simply like to fuck and are pumped for what will be his eventual reciprocation rather than just because you are so fucking lucky to have his dick in your mouth because he is basically Jesus Christ then you are likely to end up living through a cheeto-ing down type scenario.

How people behave in a sexual relationship and in sex in general has roughly 5% to do with how they feel about their partner leaving that whopping 95% being governed by how they feel about themselves.

My advice is not to enter in a relationship with a boy and anticipate he will act like a man.

xxoo

Raeleigh Jane  

Dear Confused & Betrayed,


You are looking at this issue with Vagina colored glasses.  You are not the benchmark by which your cheating boyfriend selects a skank.  In fact, you are the furthest thing from his mind.  This is not a question of cheating with someone who is uglier or hotter than you.  

It’s simply a RED LIGHT, GREEN LIGHT thing.    



I think we can all agree that cheaters are insecure and a five-minute drive into pound town is a quick way for them to feel validated.   



Now, because cheaters are insecure, they are not going to look for someone as hot as you.  You are the apex.   I mean come on.  Look at you gurrrl. Damn!  Shake it like a Fujifilm picture. 

 

Let me preface this by saying…

As card-carrying member and former President of the Offbeat Good Looks Club, I can tell you that less attractive people tend to be more confident.   We have to be in order to survive.  I married a solid 10.  A stone cold fox.   

Do you know how much wit and charm it took for Mrs. Stamina not to notice the extra appendage?   


I digress…

A Cheating man is going to look for someone he feels is uglier than himself.  From that point it’s just a numbers game.  Eventually, one of us Fuglies has a moment of weakness and before you know it…



”Fuglies have need to.  Fuglies make sex with Hunk.  Fuglies rub rub.”
  (Its funnier if you read it with the Cookie Monster voice.)

Green light.  


My advice is to acknowledge that your boyfriend does not value your relationship.  Then ask yourself what staying with him says about your self-esteem.



Hope this helps.



Jetson Stamina




Dear Raeleigh Jane,


I am a fucking French Canadian and I am proud of dat. Sometimes I tell people to close dah door because we are not eating the outside.  I make reference to a perennial woody plant when I count to five… One, Two, TREE, Four Five.  I eat a Joe Louis and a Pepsi for lunch at least 5 times a week and I don’t understand why English people refuse to put gravy and cheese curds on their fries.  You people are fucked. 

It’s too late for you now.  You have not only befriended a French Canadian but have also decided to run an incredibly informative advice column with a Frenchy.   This is worse than an Arthouse horror film.    You can’t unfriend us.   We show up when we’re not invited.  We stay late.  Very late.   And… when we finally decide to leave, we get in our Trans Ams, we spin the wheels and we honk the horn until we’re 3 blocks away.



I know what your tinking… “Oh Tabarnac!”



A Bientot!



Jetson Stamina

I fucking knew it.

Dear Illegal Counsel,

My boyfriend has a problem with other girls and porn. He hasn’t gone off and cheated on me with someone else physically, but I still consider the internet and even fantasizing cheating, when it involves desiring other girls. He has tried his hardest to not even look at other girls, he deleted all of his various website profiles except for our joint Facebook account and the email account that he uses for family. Because of that, I know he hasn’t been doing anything on the internet. He promised to go to counseling and anything else that I want; if I would just stay with him (he said this while crying). I just can’t tell if he really is sincere, I want to be with him, I really love him, but I want him to prove to me that he is telling the truth, any suggestions?

Second To Porn

Dear Second To Porn,

Porn isn’t the issue.   Porn is just a lazy man’s way of fantasizing.  You have a problem with being able to see his fantasies because the poor bastard forgot to delete his history.



I have a reoccurring daydream where I’m riding a Unicorn and my co-pilot is an African American Midget with turrets named Tyrone.  All we ever do in this dream is go grocery shopping.    Tyrone sits between my legs with both of his hands clutched firmly around the magical beast’s horn like he’s flying a fighter plane.  We walk the aisles and I collect a variety of canned goods while Tyrone pretends to shoot down enemy fighters yelling  “Pew! Pew! Pew!  Cunt! Cunt! Arbys! Hey Now! Hey! DO IT! NO! DO IT! ”


My therapist says that these are inside thoughts and I shouldn’t share with him or any other patrons who frequent his pub.  



Regardless, isn’t it great that I can work all of this stuff out in my head?  Otherwise, I would have to borrow Raeleigh’s horse, duct tape a cardboard roll to its head and keep Emmanuel Lewis on retainer anytime I had the urge to act it out.    



Thank god dreams and fantasies aren’t real, right?  

Phew.

Let’s be real. 

Your boyfriend doesn’t have any privacy.   He’s repressed all of his natural animal urges and his balls are lodged firmly in your purse.   You aren’t second to porn and he’s a second-class citizen… everyone wins?



Have helped you. Yes?

Jetson Stamina

Dear Nightmare on Elm Street,

 First and foremost I feel obliged to give you a little heads up that I took a clonazepam this morning because I was feeling a little on edge.  In my currently enormously relaxed state I have a habit of being a little more Raeleigh than you may be accustom to.

This could truly go either way.

To start off I would like to draw to your attention what an astonishing and atrocious social abuse you have committed by having a boo at your significant other’s or anyone for that matters online history.

You are an immoral piece of shit and should be entirely ashamed of your actions.

Why in the world would you feel entitled to accessing this information?

Do you read his diary too?

Give his dick a quick sniff when he gets home from a night with the boys?

Men are men and you trying to impede his natural fucking drive to look at women and worse so make him feel ashamed about this is downright disgusting.

He does not need to see a counselor but he is quite close to someone who clearly does.

I wont say who this person is.

Cause I am a fucking sweetheart and don’t want to hurt your feelings of which you clearly have many.

Sound to me like this poor bastard really does love you.  The simple fact that he has not ripped you fucking head off for invading his privacy in this manner is enough to prove this.  That fact that he has allowed you to act as batshit crazy administrator over his online dealings is tantamount to his devotion to your psychotic ass.

You should consider yourself lucky and go get some help with what are your obvious trust and impertinence issues..

He obviously deserves better and you should become so before he smartens up and fucks off to somewhere that he can be loved for who he is.

A human man who in truth has not done a single thing wrong.

Your smallest fan,

Raeleigh Jane

After sixteen years of working long hours in retail management and getting yelled at by customers, I said to hell with it all and enrolled in university as a full-time, mature student. Although I was old enough to know better, I thought it might be rewarding to become a teacher. In a high school. You know, with teenagers and shit. I am now in my final year of studies and my chosen path is becoming an impending reality. I think back to when I was fifteen years old — oh, was I a gem to be around. Moody. Hormonal. Kind of like now, but without the life experience to add credibility to my random acts of bitchiness. Based on your broad vocabulary and use of punctuation, I have concluded that you were a model student in high school. Illegal Counsel, I am looking to you to answer this critical question: Am I fucked?

Sincerely,

Adolescents Anonymous Dear

Adolescents Anonymous,

You spelled punctuation wrong but I fixed it for you.

You’re welcome.

Teenagers, while under your own supervision can be highly entertaining.

I think it is important, while in dealings with one of these creatures, to first and foremost establish a relationship firmly based on the mutual appreciation that they are teenagers and that is hilarious.

I find the majority of teenagers have a healthy awareness that they are emotionally, mentally and physically at odd with their own selves.

At the point that you make perfectly clear just how aware you are of this fact that whole teenage angst thing that they may attempt to use as a manipulative tool sort of goes out the window.

Here are some good icebreakers whilst dealing with teenagers. I find they work best when asked within a group to a single individual. Teenagers are natural pack animals and the only way to establish dominance within the pack is to systematically work your way through the various hierarchies of said pack while singling out individual members while in the midst of their respective cohorts in obstinacy.

‘Sooooo….. are you pregnant yet?’

‘Hey Nikki Six, do all of those metal bits you’ve carefully affixed to your jacket help to shield your delicate, delicate teenage heart?’

‘What’s going on Naomi Watts? I can’t help but notice that I am talking and you are violently scribbling circles and shit in your notebook. Is that what you saw when you were down in the well? For seven days? Will it not end? That totally sucks.’

Once they realize that you are a fucking fountain of pop culture references that have the ability to end game nearly all of their attempts to thwart your authoritah everyone will find themselves on a level playing field.

Maybe once in a while you might take it too far and one of them will drink fleecy in a half-assed suicide attempt.

Such is life in the jungle.

As far as my behavior in high school goes, if by model student you mean made constant sexual advances at my teachers than yes that is true.

I was that girl in Honor’s English making eyes at the teacher while I explained to him the importance of the phallic symbolism through the physical body of the poem as far as it’s ability to fully satiate and occupy my complete understanding.

And I do love to fully understand.

Good luck,

Raeleigh Jane

Dear Adolescents Anonymous,

I got my first hand job to Def Leppard’s “Love Bites” at the school dance in grade 7. By the first chorus, my lady friend was feverishly beating the living shit out of my junk like the drummer from Def Leppard (Who apparently, only has one arm) and by the 2nd chorus I was unloading 13 years of pent up sexual longing into my Converse jogging pants.

It was at that very moment that my teacher intervened, told me that “Baby Jesus” was always watching, and sent me straight to the principles office.

So, I hung my head and walked the long and familiar hall that led to the Principles office. Each step, a little harder than the next as my pants dried up into a cement like crust. I thought to myself… “I am fucked, I am so very fucked. Baby Jesus saw me and I’m gonna have to tell my parents and these are my favorite jogging pants and I dont want that girl to get pregnant but I need another hand job as soon as possible. I am so fucked!”

You asked, “Am I fucked?” Well, you’re not NOT fucked. But, you are a lot less fucked than the kids that you’re going to have to deal with everyday. The real question is… Are you awesome? You gave up a stable job and decent pay and just started over. All because you wanted something more rewarding.

Hell yah you’re awesome!

Maybe that extra life experience will help you handle a Def Leppard Hand Job Intervention a little better than my teacher did.

Hope this helped?

Jetson Stamina

Dear Jetson Stamina,

Are you a fucking French Canadian?

Have I unknowingly befriended one of our countries unholiest of creatures?

At first I chalked up your occasional spelling/jargon situation to be a very clever poke at our mutual love of the Nigerian Pen Pal but when I read your replies out loud inside my head they are spoken in a clear and horrific French Canadian accent.

Dear lord I bet you and the wife watching Bon Cop, Bad Cop right now.

You are totally thinking to yourself, for breakfast tomorrow I would like two heggs side by each to-gether facing da sun han’ a pair of toasts.

Unwittingly befriending a French Canadian is something that happens to British Columbian’s in terrible low budget arthouse horror movies you watched by accident after getting sucked in by the fact that they won several Genies.

WTF is a Genie?

I am totally having a ‘this is something that you read about in Canadian Cautionary Tales, not something that would happen to me.’

Please tell me that I have made a horrible and untrue assumption.

Raeleigh Jane

Over the last few years life has gotten busier and busier.  Work is crazy busy and we have been short staffed and as of recent very short staffed.  The pay is good but the further I get the more I realize I can’t do it all on my own. They need to hire someone else but are taking their time doing it.  The line of work I’m in takes either a lot of experience or a lot of training.  The money is great but the job is getting the best of me.  I feel like my life is in overdrive but I’m running out of gas.  When I am off I usually am doing stuff that I’ve neglected or am busy doing something that we have planned a while ago and don’t get to relax much.  It’s still an escape from work but I don’t get to recuperate.  I have no idea what to do.

Mentally and physically exhausted,

B

Dear Mentally And Physically Exhausted,

Let me cut straight to the Ill Counsel.  You say that your line of work “takes either a lot of experience or a lot of training.”   For the sake of this next rant, I’m going to assume that you work in a brothel.   A whorehouse.  A pound town.

You need to walk into your boss’ office at 5mins before closing time and say…

“Listen Cocksucker, I can’t keep performing at this level anymore.  I’m chapped, I’m callused and my ass has lost its pucker.   If you don’t hire someone else who’s equally proficient at the “Dominican Face Hat” or the “Chechnyan Turkey Bastor”, our business is going to suffer and our customers are going to go elsewhere.   Now hand me that towel.”

If you’re redlining it, so is your boss.  I guarantee it.  I’m sure a new hire is on his list along with 1000 other urgent items.   Lost revenue is the best way to make a B-List item turn into priority number 1.   Sounds to me like you are valuable commodity.   If you imply that the loss of this commodity can be prevented by finally hiring someone, they will respond.

Here’s the deal.

You, are making Cancer. 

Right now, as we speak, you are telling your body to grow a tumor, stop your heart or short-circuit your brain until it shuts down.  You don’t want to end up in an alley making sandcastles out of your poope do you?   Smarten up.

Your boss won’t change your bedpan when you’re in Palliative Care.   He won’t give your eulogy.  He won’t help you bury the body.  He won’t lie for you in court.  He won’t drop everything he’s doing at a moments notice to come to your aid.  He won’t even dress up like a Centaur on your birthday just to give you the rogering you’ve been fantasizing about. 

(I’m assuming that you might be into this, since 50% of the Ill Counsel writing staff fancy Centaur love… not that there isn’t anything wrong with that.)

My point is, your boss won’t do any of these things.  However, I’m guessing you know a few people who will.  Just make sure those people come first.

You like this advice yes?

Good,

Jetson Stamina

Dear Mentally and Physically Exhausted,

In keeping with the general atmosphere of the ‘illegal’ part of this counsel I am going to give you a little advice you would probably not get from your lawyer.

Grow some dope.

Do you live in BC?

You should.

It is basically a hedonistic rainforest of limitless opportunity to grow weed with almost no real consequences.

Sure it rains a lot but you will be making it rain too.

Up in this bitch.

Dolla, dolla bills ya’ll.

Then you can just hang out with the people in your life that really matter and do what all of us here in BC do all day.

Buy stuff.

You don’t have to grow a tumor, perform another ‘Dominican Face Hat’ or put up with anything else that isn’t fun.

You can just hang out on your boat ‘Kush Bought This’ all day and drive our otherwise weak economy.

Everyone wins.

xxoo

Raeleigh Jane

I’ve been with my GF for 5 years now. We have a great life. She’s everything I’ve ever wanted. I am completely in love with her. Last year, I began a friendship with a beautiful co-worker, which blossomed into full-blown love. I’m in love with two different women. What do I do?

Anonymous

Dear Deuce Lover,

First, I would like to address Raeleigh’s previous comment about my fitness level. I am not, cut, ripped, fit or huge. Yes, I do have a six pack, but only when I sit down. My rolls of lard, fold just right and in the right light I look like I got stung by a bee and have gone into full anaphylactic swelling whilst doing P90X.

I digress…

Deuce Lover,

Here’s the deal. I call bullshit. You might love one or you might love none but you don’t love both.

Go with the co-worker. Only 1 of 2 scenarios is possible here.

1 – You wouldn’t Fall in love with your co-worker if you truly loved your Girlfriend.

Or

2 – I have a saying “The heart wants what the heart needs. It’s the cock that wants what it wants”. Sounds like you might want to plow your co-worker more than love her. Either way, your girlfriend doesn’t need your bullshit. If you chose to stay with your GF, you’ll just find someone else to fall in love with when the opportunity presents itself.

You are being a dick. Leave your Girlfriend. She deserves better.

Hope this helps?

Who’s more right?

Raeleigh or Jetson?

Jetson Stamina

Dear Terrible Slut,

The notion of love tends to get tossed around pretty heedlessly.

This is only sad for those of us who actually know what love is.

I am not in any way trying to condemn your behavior and further to that I will admit to having been in your shoes many a time.

The fact of the matter is you are not in love with either of these women.

Commence totally inappropriate personal story.

At one particular juncture in my life I was the proud owner of two dudes who had no idea each other existed.

I was working a lot at the time and felt entitled to assuring that my days off be super full of being doted on by a variety of men.

I too was totally convinced that I was in love with both of these poor bastards.

In fact I loved them both so much that I was willing to let them both labor under the delusion that on whatever level I was theirs and that they had a future with me.

I let this happen for quite a while.

All aboard the fucking Hoe Train!

In retrospect I am aware that I was being a self-interested little hooker and in truth didn’t give a fiddler’s fuck about either of these assholes.

While this situation was working for me at the time I did not give a moment’s consideration to the feelings of either of these pieces of meat.

This is not cool.

What is cool is carrying on this way so long as you properly convey your intentions to everyone that you choose to involve in your soap opera.

Your early twenties were made for going out and getting some.

Seriously, fuck everything that walks by.

Just don’t delude yourself that there is anything more to it than that.

You don’t even know what love is yet.

Though I didn’t practice what I am now preaching I would implore you to have the balls to cut your girlfriend loose. 

This sort of behavioral confidence or lack their of would dictate whether or not you feel comfortable falling asleep alone at the end of the day.

Not only are you treating people like shit but you are denying yourself of some serious solo moments of reckoning that are in truth the only thing that is going to lead you to actually knowing who you are and subsequently finding someone who thinks that person is worth getting to know as well.

Then and only then are you putting yourself in a position to actually fall in love.

And having been you, trust me, this is very much worth the effort.

xxoo

Raeleigh Jane

Your new property seems specifically designed to function as a federally funded mating/breeding ground for hobbits- you could be solely responsible for repopulating the world with them. Any plans to?

With that fur jacket could Jetson get around the “no shirt, no shoes, no service” rule?

After seeing your boudoir photos my husband would like to know if fantasies about you are considered cheating. What if said fantasies involved him accidentally calling me Rae?

If you only stab someone “a little” and not in the face or neck, does really count?

Kim

Dear Kim,

Were I approached for a conservation program to prevent Hobbit extinction I would accept it with open arms.  I am basically Willy Wonka but with much nicer breasts.  I would dial up a little German Attack Trance and those little bastards could just get it the fuck on all over this joint without having to keep one eye out for Hornswogglers and Vermicious Knids.

When I was a kid my friend’s mom ran a pig farm all by herself.

I loved to go over there and hang out in the barn particularly when there was a few litters of sweet little pig nuglets to snuggle up.  That all ended the day her mom asked us for a hand with getting the whole breeding part of her farm scene down.

See I was under the impression that that shit just sort of worked out with out any human involvement.

That day I saw a grown woman jerking off a variety of pigs while I, in sheer fucking horror, held a variety of receptacles in which to catch cream of bacon soup.

I have never been the same since.

I will not do this for the Hobbits.  If this is the case then my open arms are going to come crashing back against my luscious breasts and sadly I will have to decline.

As far as what Jetson gets away with living inside the skin of Chewbecca I have to honestly admit that I am not really sure.

I have never actually met the guy.

One thing I would be curious about however is how he copes with the whole having an ass region similar to that of a marcupial.

You know wiping just ain’t gonna get a job of that magnitude done.

I once knew this super hairy dude who told me that it was mandatory that he be home in the event that he had to shit because it was incredibley fucking vital to his social life that he shower afterwards.

He told me that he would just watch the stream of brown water slowly turn clear and at that point he could carry on with his life.

Is this the reality of the Jetson?

I really like the idea of random dudes wanting a piece of me so long as they don’t actually act on any on these desires of theirs.

Fantasies are totally healthy and should never be considered cheating.

If that were the case my husband would have to find some way to beat the shit out of various mythological creatures involved in a variety of gang rapes in Anime.

I guess either that or he could leave my ass but I have a feeling her might feel foolish citing Centaur under his grounds for divorce.

Stabbing someone a little is all good in my books.

xxoo Rae

Dear Kim,


This advice column has quickly gone to shit. I apologize in advance for the lack of advice I am about to give.   



Raeleigh, if your husband fantasizes about Centaur Porn you need to inquire whether he’s into the bottom half or the top half.   Because the top half is a fantasy…but the bottom half is on your farm.  Prancing around like a two bit hussy with a saddle.  Don’t dangle a steak in front of a tiger and expect it to be vegetarian.  



(Inner Monologue:  Good job Jetson.  At least you warned her.  You did everything you could.  At least she can’t say she didn’t see it coming. You are a good person.  People like you.  Don’t be so hard on yourself.)

Are we really trying to save Hobbits from extinction?  Really?!?  Really?  Come on.  I don’t think I can stand to watch another midget carry jewelry into a talking volcano for 6 hours not counting bonus features and DVD extras.



Kim, why are you talking about the Jetson like the Jetson is not in the room?   It is not a Fur Jacket.  It is a Fur Vest, and I braid my back hair to create horizontal strapping, which ensures that my Fur Vest is for fitting and hipster perfect.  Like an overweight Armenian version of Brandon Flowers but more fabulous.



If your husband accidentally calls you Rae in the throws of passion, you have every right to stab him.    Not because he called you Rae, but because he stabbed you first.   Over and over again… with his penis… I’m talking about sex.



This was helpful for you.  Yes?


 

Jetson Stamina


Dear Jetson,

Centaurs are totally my thing, not Matts.

Sometimes I feel like you don’t even know me.

Get your shit together.

xo Raeleigh Jane