Well, Toot My Horn and Shuck Some Corn, It's... DEAR APRON!

I'll keep it short and sweet:

You know you're basically a useless asshole when you're writing to...

DEAR APRON:

I'm a woman in my mid-40s. Over the years I have diligently exercised, eaten right and taken good care of my skin. I keep my hairstyle and clothing up-to-date.

I am constantly taken to be much younger than I am. While some of my peers may be jealous of this "problem," I find it extremely annoying. It's especially bothersome in a business situation when someone my age or slightly older treats me as though he/she could be my parent.

I am not inclined to broadcast my age. Is there a professional way to deal with their condescending attitude? -- LOOKS YOUNGER, BUT ISN'T

DEAR LOOKS 47, BUT IS 74:

Finally!

Somebody writes in to me with a real problem!

After hours and hours spent sifting through seemingly endless piles of "My mother has developed bone cancer..." and "I've been addicted to snorting Adderall for seven years and I'm only twelve..." and "I was just laid off from work. My wife and I have eight beautiful children (three of whom are conjoined) and she just passed away in a mini-golf windmill accident..." I get this gem of a letter from somebody who actually has a legitimate gripe.

Thank. Gawd.

Sweets, you don't have to convince me that you're going through hell here-- believe me, not only are you preachin' to the choir, you're practically speaking in tongues. All my life I've had my age misconstrued because of things like my taut skin, my pert buttocks and my impossible legs. It is no joke, and I have a message to people out there who think that it's a blessing to be thought younger than you are:

Well, it isn't.

Imagine the shame one experiences when asked to show I. D. in order to get $2.00 off ski lift tickets. Can you just picture what that feels like, you selfish bastards and bitches? Can you? No. You can't. Because you have no feelings. This culture of snark and bitchtitude has just rubbed your cock far too vigorously for far too long without any kind of lubricant whatsoever and it's just jammed it straight into the red, pulsating asshole of cynicism! HASN'T IT?!

HASN'T IT?!!!!!

You ought to be ashamed of yourself. Uh-shamed.

DEAR APRON:

My husband of almost a year and I have discovered a great technique to avoid screaming at each other in an argument. When we get aggravated with each other, one of us goes to the refrigerator, takes out one of our favorite candy bars (we keep a supply in there) and we split it. By the time we're done eating the candy, we can calmly discuss our disagreement.

This helps because we literally take a break from the situation and share a mutual joy. It works because we both love chocolate so much. We wanted to share this solution with your readers. -- SWEET TOOTH IN ANGLETON, TEXAS

DEAR SWEET TOOTH:

This is brilliant! And coincidental. See, my wife and I have been doing this for years-- but with heroin. It works because we both love heroin so much.

DEAR APRON:

My husband is gentle, romantic, strong, kind and considerate. He's the "perfect 10." The problem is, I think he has an "afternoon delight."

He's home every night and tells me every day that he loves me. We have been married many years. We're young at heart, but not so young in years. I'm not asking for advice, because leaving him is not an option. The signs have been there, and I have proof. Our home life is good.

I just want to understand why this has been going on. Do some men need more than just marriage? -- FOR BETTER OR WORSE, TRENTON, N.J.

DEAR FOR BETTER OR FOR CHLAMYDIA:

Do some men need more than just marriage? Yes. Some men need to insert their penises into the mouths, vaginas, eye-sockets, and/or anuses of other women. Sometimes, even that may not suffice, and they turn to men or expertly-crafted stuffed animals sold at high end toy stores. Be careful around the platypus!

Marriage is a complicated thing, dearie. It takes a lot to keep that train a'chugging along, as Thomas the Tank Engine would tell you, in that creepy, vaguely sadistic voice of his. It's hurtful, though, to think that, while you're at home doing laundry, that your husband is at some cheesy-assed motel, doing his secretary. It doesn't have to be that way, I don't think. Have you and your husband tried sharing heroin?

DEAR APRON:

It has been a long time since I've told a man I'm interested in him or that I really like him. What advice could you give me to keep me from feeling like an idiot and saying the wrong thing? He's a special guy and I don't want to screw this up. -- NERVOUS IN READING, PA.

DEAR NERVOUS:

As a man, I can tell you that being told I have a big dick is a disarming and easy way to gain a smile from me, even though it isn't true. Especially because it isn't true! All guys like to be complimented on the length, width, girth, height, and volume of their genitals, even if you've never seen them-- it doesn't matter. Play it casual, though, or he'll think it's a come-on. (Sorry.) Just sidle on up to him at a diner booth and say something like, "Hey, Sumo Cock, let's order some cheese fries" and he'll pretty much be your special guy forever.