The Advice Column From Within
by Marilyn McCoy-O’Brien
MM-O: Insecurity Rag is absolutely giddy to have famed former advice columnist Victoria Dubois grace us with her vast knowledge of insecurity in one hand, and a half empty bottle of fabulous Malbec in the other.
VD: Happy to be here.
MM-O: Before we start, rumor has it that you’re writing a juicy tell-all book.
VD: (laughs) No, actually, I’m not—I’ve put all that behind me—doctor’s orders (laughs). But I am writing a book, that is true.
MM-O: What is it about?
VD: It’s a children’s book about a little black puppy named Roscoe who teaches himself how to survive the urban jungle of Minneapolis.
MM-O: Oh. Interesting. Are you from Minneapolis?
VD: Nope, never been.
MM-O: Okay. Welcome back to the world of advice. With your permission let’s get started.
VD: Way ahead of you (pouring herself another glass).
MM-O: Rachel Facebook’d us, “Every time my boyfriend and I have sex, he almost immediately turns me over into doggy style. It’s getting to the point where I truly believe he thinks that he cannot stand the site of my face. What am I to do?”
VD: At my old job, which you know I held for 30 odd years, I’d probably give you some nonsense about “it’s not that your face is ugly, it’s that your ass is fine!” But let’s be frank, the ass alone is not fine. The phrase “butt ugly” exists for a reason. It’s only considered sexy from the use of accessories like jeans, lingerie, tattoos, or pole dancing. If you don’t buy that he might be intimidated by your angelic face, then most likely he’s turned off by how listless and distracted you are with whatever list of tasks are running through your head. In his need for some sort of connection, he’s probably thinking “at least her ass jiggles.” So get over yourself, and enjoy the moment for chrissakes. Honestly how important are these tasks if you’re subjecting yourself to this unpleasant humiliation instead. Look, we’re all insecure, get over it! And if you can’t, then I suggest wearing one of those novelty butt hats and hope he can’t tell the difference.
MM-O: Lisa writes “my boyfriend keeps texting me all the time. Asking me if ‘I’m okay’ or ‘do I need anything’ or just telling me he loves me. No matter how many times I reply to reassure him that I’m okay, I don’t need anything and that I love him too, he continues to text me. It’s smothering, what do I do?
VD: Seriously? Let me get this straight. (refills her glass) Your boyfriend is a good communicator, expresses his love for you, and is devoted to your happiness. He sounds horrific. Seriously, you must be in your 20’s because no one in their 30’s would be so stupid to think this as a problem. Look, from a technical standpoint, if you want to break the titlewave of texts- try this- it’s crazy simple- Don’t reply! Now, if he continues to to be a “problem” and decides to do all this verbally- that means without his thumbs- then be honest with yourself. You’re better than all this- and better than him- You are probably way out of his league and so break his heart and give him my digits because the only text I got from my last boyfriend was to break up with me, the coward. Seriously, Lisa, unbelievable.
My glass is empty,(takes
out a box of wine from her tote bag.) Who’s next?
MM-O: Gail tweets “My boyfriend swears he does not watch porn, but-”
VD: He’s lying. Next!
MM-O: Okay. Jonelle writes “My boyfriend and I broke up five weeks ago. In that time I dated a guy who gave me incredible oral sex. Now my boyfriend and I are back together. How can I get what I got from the guy from my boyfriend?
VD: Sit your boyfriend down with a pen and paper and a camera and invite Mr. Tongue over for lesson. Watch and learn I always say, (toasting with the box of wine).
MM-O: Can I offer you some coffee?
VD: You don’t know me!
MM-O: How do you take it?
VD: The way I like my men: iced, with foam, and cinnamon sprinkles.
MM-O: Ok. I think we have time for one more, Jessie tweets: “I have discovered recently that I make more money than my husband, should I-”
VD: Woo-Hoo! You deserve it. Remember, the double standard we live in won’t be singular until you take it to the next level and make sure that you shatter that glass ceiling completely. Start small, open the car door for your husband, give up your seat, force that lazy pig to go down on you for a change. Our equality will not mean anything until you’re the one who gets up in the middle of the night to investigate the sound coming from the living room. So, man up! (falling off her chair.)
MM-O: That’s all the time we have, I’d like to thank our special guest Victoria Dubois.
VD: (mumbling to herself), and Roscoe finally found his way home, right where he left it… (passes out)