I recently started dating this guy.  Things have been going great so far – near perfect.  The only thing is, his best friend is a girl.  A girl he used to have sex with.  And cheat on his girlfriends in high school with (we’re both in college now).  And she’s still “in love” with him.  He still says “I love you” to her as well, but he swears it’s just as a friend, and he’s made that clear to her too.  But I’m still insanely insecure when it comes to their relationship.  I can’t ask him to stop talking to her, though, since he’s made it clear that she’s his best friend.  So is there any way I can subtly lead him away from her or become secure with their relationship, or is this a lost cause?

In the pimp game, when a young ho wants to bust out her daddy’s main lady and become the new bottom bitch, she’s gotta play her cards just right. She can’t be triflin’. She can’t be actin’ the fool. She gots to be hustlin’. Fresh booty can’t show nothin’ but love to an old school queen, ‘cause them bottom bitches done seen it all and they got eyeballs where you sleep, yo.

I may or may not be in like with someone I’ve previously hooked up with who now has a girlfriend. He’s an idiot who knows his girlfriend is a whore and cheats on him constantly, yet has not dumped the bitch. He knows I’m better than her and my heart aches every day because the man I want to be with is with a whore. HELP.

Fuck them both and have a sandwich.

i am a great photographer. I have a kick ass eye for …well shit, everything (it’s the one thing i can brag about.) It’s my dream job. Unfortunately, it is not my 9-5, and I have a mortgage etc, which my day job supports. Am I stuck? or do I risk it all on my “eye”? i know… i don’t know you, and don’t worry (not that you would) I am not going to base my decisions on your answer. I am just curious as to what you, anonymous but seemingly wise one, will respond.

Do you risk it all? Ugh. Dream jobs aren’t a gamble. Dream jobs are a hustle. Until you know the difference I suggest you shut up and enjoy your hobby, because nobody gives a fuck about your eye.

I have a friend who is incredibly self conscious, and can only say bad things about herself. I’m constantly reassuring her that there’s nothing wrong with her, but its come to a point where I don’t know if I can be her psychiatrist anymore. If I stop helping her, though, I’m afraid she’ll hurt herself.

Her psychiatrist? Fuck you. Be her friend, or cut her out of your life. Either way, don’t treat her like some therapy case you’re saving from self harm.

Don’t be a fucking drama queen, and don’t put up with incessant negativity. Friends call each other out on their bullshit. If you’ve had enough of hers, quit indulging in it.

Oh, and she’s not gonna hurt herself because of anything you do or don’t do. You’re not that goddamn special.

Here’s the thing. I got royally fucked over by my boyfriend of three years a year or two ago. Since then, I’ve made the most of life. I drink, I smoke, I have sex with super hot guys and the closest I’ve come to a serious relationship was a third date. It’s fun while it lasts, but I find myself getting heart-broken when these guys move on, despite the fact I encourage them to. What the fuck am I doing wrong? I like this lifestyle, but I feel as if I’m trying to be this bad girl when inside I’m still this ‘good girl’. Help!

You like this lifestyle because it’s fun, and the only thing you’re doing wrong is making excuses for your jaded persona. Quit framing your current situation in terms of your past relationship. You got fucked over. So what? Move on, already.

Recognize that your current pattern of behavior is a defense mechanism. You’re playing the bad girl to avoid intimacy so that you won’t get hurt again, only now you’re suffering a series of little heartbreaks instead of one big one.

Quit it. You’re not a bad girl. You’re not a good girl. You’re just a girl, and if you’d quit making yourself artificially unavailable you might end up on a fourth date every once in a while.

Listen, you’re in a transition period. You’re done rebounding, but you’re still terrified of the vulnerability that’s required when starting an actual relationship. Well, tough shit. You’ve got a soft candy center, and you’re eventually gonna have to let somebody take a nibble.

Don’t worry, you can trust yourself. You’ve learned a lot these past couple years. You’ll pick more wisely this time.

Alright, so, I’m a seventeen year old girl and my mother isn’t too fond with the idea of me going camping with a few of my friends at a campsite 40 minutes away from where I live.  She’s extremely religious and doesn’t like that there will be boys present.  There will be no adult supervision, but I know that we all will be perfectly fine.  How can I convince my mom to let me go?

Take out a clean sheet of paper and put this shit down in your best loopy-ass handwriting:

“Mom, I’ll always be your little girl, but I’m seventeen years old. As much as I must still seem like a child to you, I’m not. I’m a responsible young adult, and camping is a healthy recreational activity for people my age.

We both know you don’t have to worry about me doing anything inappropriate. You’ve raised a good girl, and you can count on me to make smart decisions. You also don’t need to worry about my friends. They’re good people too.

Still, I understand why you’re hesitant. It’s a co-ed trip, and it’s overnight. I get why that bothers you, but I’m no longer of an age where you’re protecting me by telling me I can’t go.

It’s your instinct as a parent. I respect that. In a lot of ways, I still appreciate it, but you have to start coming to terms with the fact that shielding me isn’t the best move anymore. It’s time for you to start trusting me to do the right thing, because you can. I think you know that.

Actually, I’m more concerned about how you’ll hold up when I go camping. I have a feeling you’ll be the one who stays up all night, and it’ll be because you’re so worried about me that you can’t sleep.

Well, when it’s past midnight and you’re lying awake terrified that I’m in some sort of trouble, I want you to remember this little note and laugh, because I’ll be the one tucked away in a sleeping bag fast asleep.

Seriously, mom. I may need a learners permit to drive, but you need a learners permit in letting me leave the nest.

Consider this camping trip your first lesson in letting me spread my wings.

Don’t worry. I won’t let you down.”

Sign that shit with love and hand it to her after a big greasy meal. Sit there with her while she reads it. Dress sharp, and give her your best church eyes.

Five bucks says the note makes her cry, and unless you’re an unwed teenage mother who’s done time in juvie, you will be going on that camping trip.

Have fun in the woods, and try not to end up in a police station or pregnant.

How do you feel about Eat, Pray, Love? The book, the movie, the phenomenon, the subsequent Newsweek human interest stories?

I resent the implication that I need to feel anything at all for Eat, Pray, Love.

Elizabeth Gilbert wrote a breezy little memoir that got anointed by Oprah, and now it’s a lifestyle brand for spiritually confused housewives. So what? She cashed in on her mid-life crisis. Good for her, but don’t expect me to connect with any of that curry flavored bullshit.

I’ll give her some credit for not leading an unexamined life, but a journey of personal discovery is only as fascinating as the person who makes it. I have no interest in listening to a narcissistic bore come to terms with her own mediocrity, regardless of how exotic the locale.

Then again, I’m not riddled with latent guilt for living in a walled garden of privilege, and I don’t need to indulge in world travel to discover that I’m not the center of the fucking universe.

Do you really think accepting gifts is okay even when you know they’re being used to buy a way into your affections?

It’s not just a dating thing either. I’ve had a casual acquaintances load me with expensive presents when they think (correctly) that I’m not really bonding with them, just to keep me from wandering off. If I refuse them, I’m rude, and if I accept them, they’ll get all butthurty when I still don’t want to pursue a friendship/give them head. The obvious answer is to balance the scales by giving them something equally expensive, but that just ends up with both of us having too much random junk we didn’t even want in the first place. (Besides, I can’t always afford an equally valuable present.) It’s a dilemma, especially since trying to discuss this barter aspect of gift-giving makes people go “you know SOME people just LIKE bringing others joy”, which I believe is a genuine sentiment, but false at the same time; you may not notice that you expected affection and gratitude in return until you notice you’re not getting it.

Gifts are sometimes used as a form of emotional extortion and the person receiving them can only either submit to being obligated, or be rude, no other options, and that’s fucked up.

Submit to being obligated? Ugh. Girls who are afraid of being rude in the face of emotional extortion drive me fucking crazy. Quit spilling your victim mentality all over the social contract. Stand your ground, you weak ass bitch.

Accepting a gift never obligates you. If it does, then it wasn’t a gift. It was either a form of payment or a bribe. You need to be smart enough to know the difference and strong enough not to put up with that kind of shit.

If a man thinks he can buy his way into my affections with expensive gifts, he will find that he is sadly mistaken. Will I accept his gifts? Hell yes. Will I feel obligated in any way? Hell no.

Eventually, he’ll take the hint and stop treating me like an investment commodity or he’ll confront me with an explicit expectation of sexual favors. In either case, he’ll find out the hard way that I’m not for sale.

Let him get all butthurt. Good. He should be. Fuck him for trying to buy me in the first place. I’m not saying you gotta do it my way, but at least have the brass to shut down emotional extortion.

Truth is, I don’t want to be the one getting hurt.  He is telling me to enjoy the presence.  He also told me he wants to grow old with me.

I am confused.

He is telling you to enjoy the present, not the presence.

Of course you’re confused. You’re not very bright.