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Dear Miss Wendy,

My old boyfriend, Whacko, was paroled from prison a year ago (minor drug dealing charges, nothing serious). After he got it, he had nowhere to go. He certainly could not go back to Long Island to live with his lame parents, so I let him move back into my East Village studio apartment with my new boyfriend (Jack) and myself. I know this sounds a little weird, but this is New York and rents are high and he is the nicest guy and we did build a loft so everyone could have a little bit of privacy to do...well, you know. And it’s working out really well. Whacko started making money immediately so he is paying almost all the rent and buying the groceries and TP and stuff. Whacko DJ’s a lot and he gets us into all these cool clubs and the three of us have a lot of fun together and they (my ex and my on) even get along when they are stuck together at home when I go to my dumb office job. So you see, things are working out really well.

When Whacko was in prison, he spent a lot of time reading self improvement books and when he got out, he got us all motivated to go to the David Barton gym. And then we all started getting a lot of really cool tattoos (another prison thing). Well, maybe we got a little carried away, but now we all have incredible muscle cuts which look super with all the tattoos on our arms, legs, backs, stomach, butts etc.

But here is my problem. My cousin Missy from Muskogee, Oklahoma is getting married next month and she asked me to be a bridesmaid. I had not seen Missy in over a year so I flew down there last weekend (at my own expense, thank you very much) to be fitted for my dress. Well, when Missy saw me she threw a hissy fit and said that I could not be in her wedding looking the way I do. Well, I wanted to be the reasonable one and try to work things out, so I told her that if my tattoos were a problem, I could pick up some long sleeved brides maid dresses from one of the Hassidic shops in Brooklyn. Missy screamed, "The wedding is in August!" Then she threw a box of tiaras at me and told me to get the f*ck out of her bedroom.

Well, now Missy is not taking my phone calls. Every time I phone her mother answers the phone and says, “You know what you did, you….you…. tattooed lady.” This is a real problem because Wacko, Jack and I have already bought non refundable airlines tickets so we can all attend the wedding and then go on to a rave in Oklahoma City. What should we do?

East Village Doll

Dear Dolly,

Nothing says revenge like a backless red cocktail dress. Buy three matching dresses for Jacko, Whacko and yourself and march yourselves down the aisle and sit right down on the bride’s side of the church. In today’s strange world, you are all extended family and family should stand together at a time like this. And if Jacko and Whacko don’t object to wearing the dresses, please write again. Miss Wendy suspects that you have another problem and may need additional advice. .

Dear Miss Wendy,

I just found out that I have crabs. What should I do?

Creeping and Crawling

Dear Creepy,

How should I know? Please refrain from using public toilets and do not write me again. Whatever will people think?

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