Trap Him, Feed Him, Keep Him

Dating A Married Man

Dear Whitney and Liria,

I've been dating a married man for the better part of three years and I think he's cheating on me. Our plan has always been that we'll get married as soon as he leaves his wife. But now, I'm worried that he's going to dump me for another woman.

Heartsick in Sarasota

Whitney Says:

Dear Sick,

Hellooooo... McFly?... Is anyone home? Knock...knock...knock... First and foremost, you ARE the other woman; for three years none-the-less. I am clearly not going to vote for your continued relationship here. Mr. Man is already cheating on the woman he vowed to love, honor, and cherish. So chances are he was destined to cheat on you in the same way. The way I see it, you have two options.

1.) Break up with him immediately.

2.) Break up with him immediately and give him a small parting gift. After all, there is nothing like a little botulism to remember you by.

I suggest making him my OOEY GOOEY "Livin Large" LASAGNA with a can of tomotoes that has been left opened in the refrigerator for a month. Once you meet a better man, you can make him the same dish with fresh ingredients. I guarantee that he will hang around to see what you make next.

Vengeance is yours!

P.S. Being that I'm not legally allowed to recommend poisoning someone, please know that if you follow this advice, may it be on your head.

Liria Says:

Dear Sick,

One word, OxyMORON!! He can't be cheating on YOU. That you don't know this explains the liberal use of capitalization above. Brace yourself, Missy, you're already history. My best advice? Get ready for the big heave-ho with practice. Whenever I've been dropped I've softened the blow with two sure-fire remedies, my JUST CAN'T GET ENOUGH OF THESE APPLE MARTINIS and my Chocolate Chip Orgasms. At times like these it's important to remember the good things you can do for yourself.

Once you've moved on, try my "DUMB AS A DOORKNOB AND STILL CAN'T FAIL" MAC N' CHEESE.

Recipes I can help with. Can't do a thing for stupid.

Where Do I Find A Man?

Dear Whitney and Liria,

I'm a twenty-eight year old physical therapist and the only single men I ever meet are either eighty and crippled or they have had a head injury. What should I do to find Mr. Right?

Desperate in Des Moines

Whitney Says:

Dear Desperate,

Don’t Despair! There are a million ways to meet Mr. Right. I recommend getting together with all of the single gals you know and throwing a cocktail party. If each girl invites five men (remember, one girl’s trash is another’s Trojan) and brings an hors de oeuvre, you are sure to find one or two gentlemen of interest. Make my STUFFED MUSHROOM CAPS. They are guaranteeed to make men drool!

Happy Hunting,

Liria Says:

Dear Desperate,

Your letter makes me wonder exactly who here has had the head injury. I have two words for you, Sports Medecine. You, honey, clearly need a new job. Get yourself out there and discover a new batch of slightly clumsy studs who, coincidentally, are a wee bit less agile that they once were. Look, Desperate, here's your chance. They can't outrun you while they're injured. Physical therapy can be fantastic hunting ground for a girl with a purpose. Forget the mushrooms, make him a batch of my "REAL HIM IN, SUGAR" COOKIES to take along to the office and get your Florence Nightingale on!

Go get those jocks!

He Wants Me To Get A Boob Job

Dear Whitney & Liria,

My boyfriend wants me to have a boob job. He says that if I do it, he'll probably propose to me. I'm scared to death to have surgery and I think I look fine the way I am. What should I do?

Flat in Phoenix

Whitney Says:

Dear Flat,

Inform your boyfriend that Dr. 90210 does penile enhancement as well. If he wants you to add a couple of inches, tell him he needs to return the favor. If he doesn't shut up about the whole boob job thing, kick him to the curb and find yourself someone worthy. If he stops talking about it, but still gives you those idiotic, meaningful looks meant to guilt you into it; make him a batch of my TEENY TINY COCKTAIL WEENIES. That'll shut him up.

Some men are pigs and yours takes the cake!

Liria Says:

Dear Flat,

This letter begins with a recipe. Before you do anything else, take yourself to the kitchen and make my LIRIA'S LUSCIOUS APRICOT-STUFFED CHICKEN BREASTS. They're a mouthful! As the owner of a particularly plump pair, I can assure you that large breasts (except in matters of chicken) are not all they're cracked up to be.  Just as anyone voluntarily contemplating pregnancy should strap on one of those weighted maternity tummys for a day; I would suggest you do the same for breast enhancement. After all, you're the one who's gotta wear them, you know, forever.

Unlike children, these babies don't turn eighteen and move out. Then again, when silicone gets old it tends to rupture and leak and cause cancer. So, think about it. You may be dead, but at least you'll be married. Sure, what the hell, I say go for it!

Are you out of your mind?!

I'm Attracted To My Son's Friend

Dear Whitney and Liria,

I am mortified to be writing this letter, but I'm desperate for guidance. I am a very well preserved mother of four. My oldest son in eighteen and his best friend, John (who I have known since he was a toddler), has recently started to make advances towards me. I'm only forty and I'm tempted to take him up on his offer. What's worrying me is what this will do to my relationship with my son if he finds out. Please help. I'm not sure how much longer I can withstand the pull of my raging hormones.

Mrs. Robinson in Maryland

Whitney Says:

Dear Mrs. R.,

Think back to the first Mrs. Robinson. The best thing that ever happened to her was that Simon and Garfunkel dedicated a song to her. I'm guessing they won' t do the same for you as they have long since broken up. I "get" the whole Ashton/Demi biological age thing, but please remember that no amount of hot boy sex is going to be worth jeopardizing your relationship with your son. Plain and simple, you are not too old to have relations with a man of legal age. But you are too old to have sex with your son's friend.

I am also assuming that you're not currently married. If you were, there would clearly be a plethora of additional reasons to keep it in your pants, as it were. If you are indeed in the market for a new man in your life, may I suggest reeling him in with my "COME TO MAMA" COCONUT CREAM PIE? Please do not use this recipe on John though. The consequences could be staggering.

Coocoocachoo Mrs. Robinson!

Liria Says:

Dear Mrs. Robinson,

You really do know this but you MUST keep this boy's meat out of your stew! There's nothing wrong with a trip to the butcher though! Find yourself some fresh meat... meat you can grind and saute with your peppers and onions. Take it home and throw it into my "I'M SO HOT I GOTTA WEAR SHADES" CHILI. And wash it down with some ice water Mama. If things are still too hot, get yourself into an icy shower.

Once you've come back to your senses, you can cook with the best of 'em!

Sheesh!

How Many Men Is Too Many?

Dear Whitney and Liria,

I'm thirty-two and single. I'm writing because I recently told a friend how many men I've slept with and she called me a slut. What I want to know is, do you think that thirty-two men is too many for someone my age? I mean, it's only two guys a year since I lost my virginity as sixteen.

Having fun in Philly

Whitney Says:

Dear Open for Business,

How do I say this without hurting your feelings? You are a total slut! Thirty-two men? Sweet mother of God! You my dear are a whore with a capital "H". Your poor mother would roll over in her grave if she knew. And if she's not already dead, this news would certainly do the trick.

Powers that be say that you are a born again virgin if you can abstain from doing the nasty for six months. I encourage you to try this. Every time you start to feel frisky, I want you to make a batch of my BIG BAD BLONDIES and let's see if we can't divert some of your misspent energy.

Yours in Christ,

Liria Says:

Dear Fun,

Two men a year? Sounds to me like you can find a man, you just can't keep one. You don't need religion; just a little testosterone fly-paper and you'll be good as new. When Whitney hops down from her high horse, she should be able to give you all kinds of recipes to keep the next one from ever leaving.

We've got to do something about that revolving door, Cookie. I vote for culinary school. Give yourself six months, and choose number thirty-three carefully. He oughtta be a keeper. If by this time next year the sign above your bed reads thirty five served, well, fun is too much fun. Just remember you're not getting any younger. If you don't change your ways eventually, she who started as Fun in Philly is likely to become The Jezebel of South Florida's early-bird-special set. And really, how fun is that?

Fun, get thee to a cookery!

He Won't Marry Me!

Dear Whitney and Liria,

My boyfriend and I have two children and have lived together for seven years. My problem is that he still hasn't proposed. How am I ever going to become his wife?

Always the Bridesmaid

Whitney Says:

Dear Always,

Close down the dairy girfriend!!! Your man has opted not to pay for his milk for too long. It's time to cut him off! Normally, I would say that if he hasn't popped the question inside of two months, you should leave. But sadly, you have done the unthinkable and already procreated with this fiend.

As a last resort, I would check the common law marriage rules in your state and if you find that your seven years of co-habitation have already made you his legal spouse, then hop on down to city hall and change your name. Your next course of action is to stop by Kay Jewelers and buy yourself a ring. Then let everyone know that you and Billy Bob are now man and wife. In fact send out announcements and see if you can snag some wedding gifts while you're at it.

Before resorting to the common law approach, I would make your man a batch of my MAPLE SYRUP MUFFINS. He might just drop down on his knees and propose right there at the breakfast table.

Keep your knees together and good luck!

Liria Says:

Dear Always,

Close the dairy? Whitney, that farm is all she's got. You've got to be practical here. Our girl forgot the cardinal rule of dating when she became a breeder... twice. While I do hate to rain on anybody's parade, I've got bad news. One little darling and you might have been able to pull it off. Two, and it's just way too late for you.

The good news? You can make him a batch of anything you want and enjoy it! If you're still hell-bent on matrimony, my poor little poster child for don't-let-this-happen-to-you, I have a plan. Surprise him by making his favortite meal and then ply him with the whole liquor cabinet (may I suggest making him a pitcher of our "IT'S A VERY LONG ISLAND" ICED TEA. In a pinch, who says you can't throw your own shotgun wedding?

Ready, Aim, Fire!

Having His Parents Over

Dear Whitney and Liria,

I'm about to plotz, big time! My boyfriend's parents are coming over to my house for dinner on Saturday night and I've never met them before. I can only assume that Joel is getting serious if he's introducing us. The thing is that Joel knows I can't cook. What-oh-what am I going to make so they give their stamp of approval and encourage their son to marry me?

Meshuggah in Memphis

Whitney Says:

Dear Shug,

Joel is a putz if he knows you can't cook, yet insists you do so when you meet his parents for the first time. Boy howdy, this boy needs a refresher course in what you will and will not put up with. This is the only time EVER that I have not had a food recommendation for one of the gals that writes in. But for you sugar, my best advice is to call for reservations. When Joel et al come a knock'n, tell them to shake their tail feathers or they'll miss dinner.

Of all the nerve!

Liria Says:

Dear Memphis,

There's no reason you should get all stressed slaving over a hot stove just so the parentals can proceed to grill you under the hot lights. That's more heat than any girl oughtta endure. So here's my thought: He isn't playing fair with you, babycakes, and believe you me, two can play that game. We are the cagier sex and we can win this one. Watch!

Why not have them all believing that you're the best cook this side of the Mississippi? It's time for some tip-top catering, my girl. If you're serious about the ring, it's time to practice the art of illusion. You need co-conspirators, lots of them. Forbid anyone from arriving before 7 p.m. Have your team come early in the day and bring all kinds of sumptuous goodies. While you're at it, throw in hair, makeup, wardrobe, and hypnosis. If your gonna create an illusion, why not create the one that says not ONLY can I make the best meal you people have ever eaten, but I'm such a catch that I look flawless, perfect, and completely calm while doing it. The ring will be on your finger any day. Guaranteed.

By the way, you'll want to charge the whole kitandkaboodle to Joel's credit card.

If he ever asks about the bill, remind him NEVER to put you in this position again!

Beautiful, no?!

Sweet Sixteen and Never Kissed

Dear Whitney and Liria,

I'm only sixteen, but there's this guy that I really, really, really like. I mean REALLY! The problem is that he's twenty four and looks at me like I'm a child. What should I do?

Sweet Sixteen and Never Kissed

Whitney Says:

Dear Lolita,

For the love of God girl, isn't it past your bedtime? Hear me loud and clear on this sweetheart... you are JAILBAIT!!! If this dear man is smart enough to realize that, DO NOT dangle your fresh young behind in his face. The only boys you should be interested in should be no older than seventeen or eighteen, TOPS! And remember when you're thinking of hopping in the sack with one of them (as I'm sure you are you little tart!) adolescent boys stink. As in peeeeeeuuuuu. Hygiene is not high on their hit parade.

Now, I'm calling your mother!

PS: Speaking of tarts, my LUSCIOUS LEMON-ALMOND TART is out of this world!

Liria Says:

Now Girlie,

I don't mean to sound bitter, but...I have had it up to HERE with children masquerading as women and competing for MY men. Okay, he may not be mine. Yes, I could be his mother. But my point is undiminished.

You, little girl, should have yourself a slumber party, attach chastity belts to all your little-girl friends, and pine over what ONE DAY will be yours. Not today though. Today it is hard enough for a single ADULT woman to find a date without having to compete with YOU.

Don't you have an SAT to study for?

Sex With A Friend

Dear Whitney & Liria,

I am currently not dating anyone but I still find myself with needs. My friend Phil is in the same boat. We are thinking about sleeping with each other just to satisfy our physical desires. Do you think this is a good idea?

Looking for a good time

Whitney Says:

Dear Looking,

If Phil is already your friend and you're attracted enough to each other to consider fornication, why aren't you dating? It is in fact ideal to be friends with your mate before you actually mate. Therefore, I would say no to your plans of no-strings-attached sex. There are ALWAYS strings. Make Phil take you out to dinner and court you properly. Then on the morning after... you can make him my SOUR CREAM COFFEE CAKE as a reward.

Have some standards!

Liria Says:

Dear Looking,

I feel your pain. Here's the thing you want to remember, and mark my words; the minute, I mean the millisecond you realize he's a good lover, you will be writing asking for more advice. You will be incapable of playing by the rules YOU made. He, on the other hand, will wonder how it got so complicated. He will regret the strain on your friendship but, being a guy, he won't actually ever talk to you about it. You will want, you will ooze want. You will pine, you may lament, you're likely to cry and frankly, I'd like you to SHUT UP!

By the way, if he's lousy in bed, there goes the friendship too. You deny it, but it's true. How will you ever be able to be a supportive friend with that smirk on your face? In conclusion?

Just say NO!

I'm Just His Booty Call

Dear Whitney and Liria,

There is this guy that I like but he only uses me for a booty call. How can I make him see me as girlfriend material?

Not Good Enough

Whitney Says:

Dear Not,

Sweetheart, he only sees you as a booty call because you've apparentley let him. Never ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, EVER let a man use you for sex when you want more. It's just not done. I'm certain this fellow will never ask you out until you close the all-night service station. Remember, if your booty is good enough to call, it's good enough to take out to dinner and meet his parents some day. Should that day ever come, make my FESTIVE FRITTATA!

Remember, you're booty-ful!

Liria Says:

Dear Not,

You can't! Really. When they come over for dessert, it's nearly impossible to get them to eat their vegetables. In case you want to try, make my SUPER SIMPLE NEVER FAILS GREEN BEAN CASSEROLE. Not only will you learn a thing or two about his relationship to holidays, it's sure to add an element of Betty Crocker to the Mae West impression you've created.

If you're shopping for the long haul, you absolutely CANNOT let yourself fall into the booty call category. Take it from a girl who's got (and gotten) more than her share of tail (J-Lo eat your heart out!). One of the hardest lessons a single girl has to learn is that for men there are so many booties, so little time. If you want yours to stand out, don't offer it with the buffet.

Learn to be hard-to-get and the world is yours!

No "Play" ... No Pay!

Dear Whitney and Liria,

I recently moved to Hollywood to become an actress. I've started to get some really good auditions but I've had to work for them. You see, I've started to offer a few oral services in exchange for opportunity. It's been going great except that now my agent won't send me out for anything until I visit his office first. Is there anyway to stop this now that I've started?

Tonsillitis in Tinsel Town

Whitney Says:

Dear Tonsillitis,

Were you raised in a brothel? If so, I might have some understanding of your get-to-the-top motivational technique. You my dear are NOT doing yourself any favors by putting such questionable things into your mouth. It's time to eat something delicious like my TANGY "Pucker-Up" LEMON BARS. My best advice to you is share them with your agent after you tell him about the gonorrhea. This should help to ease him out of his current expectations.

Keep your mouth shut!

Liria Says:

Dear Mouth,

Define going great. I'm all for using every competitive advantage you've got. I mean, it's a tough world. Apparenlty it's just gotten tougher for you. Don't worry, I've got good news. You've proven there is a career that you're perfectly suited for. Pick up a box of Ding Dongs and take them with you to the next adult film casting call in Chatsworth. And hey, if you run into Seymour Butts, tell him the girl who sat next to him in eighth grade geometry says hello. You never know where your next big break is going to come from, right? And Whitney, don't take the girl away from her calling!

Remember ladies, men are pigs, eating pork is optional.

Ta Ta Trashy,