Category: Advice

“Dear Dr. Kim:

“I’m a rather well-known Hollywood actor in my late 40s who has a reputation for only bonking dating women younger than 25 years old — in fact, I generally ditch them shortly after their 25th birthday.

“For some reason, this seems to have pissed some people off.  They say I should ‘date women my own age’ or ‘stop cradle-snatching’.

“Here’s my philosophy.  After they pass 25, all the women I’ve met start to droop and sag, and even worse they want to start breeding like rabbits, and this makes them very unattractive to me because post-baby bods have droopy boobs, doughy tummies and tunnel-vag syndrome.  Also, the thought of dating women around my own age makes me a little nauseated — I mean, I know chicks like Amanda Holden (53) and Salma Hayek (56) are totally hot, BUT:  they’re all married and they have kids.  While I’m not really averse to having kids of my own (in principle, anyway), I’d rather not have to look after someone else’s, especially as women of my age tend to have daughters aged 16-24, and you KNOW where that might lead.

“Actually, their bodies are only part of the problem.  Sure, the under-25s are kinda brainless (in the ignorance sense), but “older” women are, if you’ll excuse the expression, bat-shit crazy and neurotic (and believe me, I know what I’m talking about).  While the latter are more mature, their psychological problems are equally advanced, whereas the younger women just don’t seem to have those issues.

“Anyway, Dr. Kim, what do I do about all this date-shaming?”

— Just Call Me Leo

Dear Leo:

Tell ’em all to fuck off.  Seriously.  If that old hag Cher can date some beardless weenie forty years younger than herself and nobody kvetches or scolds her, then why should you worry?  It’s not like your fresh girlfriends don’t know the rules of the game, n’est-ce pas? and they all seem quite okay with it.  Maybe it’s the fact that you fulfill all their twisted little fantasies:  fame, a jet-set lifestyle, trendy parties, beach vacations on tropical islands or large yachts, lots of sparkly little presents and, lest we forget (and according to urban legend) they also get frequently serviced by a large male appendage.  No wonder there’s a long line of early-20 hotties outside your door.

You seem to have it all figured out, so why change?  But if you want to shut the scolds up for a while, hold your nose and fuck date a childless hottie between ages 28-32 for a while, and then all the Jealous Ones will say, “Ah, good!”  and turn their envious Karen-gaze elsewhere . Then, when they’re not looking, dump Miss Middle-Age and resume the sub-25 thing.  Your excuse:  “Hey, I tried!”

Know this, however:  you are the envy of all men on the planet, who would do exactly what you’re doing if they could.

—

“Dear Dr. Kim:

“I’ve been on my fair share of dates, but after a difficult break-up nine months ago followed by a string of mediocre-at-best encounters, I’ve been feeling a bit hopeless about the modern dating landscape.

“I’m on three different dating apps but, to be honest, I’ve come very close to giving up altogether. Before I throw in the towel, however, I have decided to try something very different to my usual swipe-by-gut-instinct tactics.

“I am ‘astro-dating’ — choosing dates that are astrologically a good fit for me.

“So could cosmic dating help me bag a date for Valentine’s?

“The first challenge was finding men willing to give me their full birth chart without having ever met me. As anyone who has ever done internet dating knows, it’s hard enough to get past the swiping stage, and I admit several men ghosted me the second I mentioned star signs. Nonetheless, through a combination of ruthless flirting and the promise of free drinks, I managed to find six men who were game.

“Next up was a birth chart consultation with Yasmin Boland, astrologer and moonologer, to find out who, out of the six, I’d be most compatible with. Yasmin, a best-selling author, has been an internationally successful ‘spiritual guide’ for the past two decades and focuses on helping others find their path in life, work and, crucially, love through astrological compatibility.

“Am I on the right track?”

— Star-Struck, England

Dear Starfucked:

You didn’t mention visiting the Oracle at Delphi, or having a sacerdos consult the entrails of a chicken, so you may have missed a couple of steps on your voyage towards total insanity I mean romantic happiness.  (Oh, and by the way, the traditional term for “moonologer” is “lunatic”.)

Allow me to suggest a better filter system than relying on the light of stars which may or may not have already gone out, and it involves a simple checklist of questions.  Here it is:

1. Do you have a favorite gun?  If so, which and why?
2. What is your favorite alcoholic drink?
3. Are you a vegetarian or vegan?
4. Do you have a liberal arts degree, or else a degree in something that is actually worth anything in the job market?
5. Do you believe in astrology or unicorns?
6. Turbo-charged V6 or naturally-aspirated V12?
7. Do you own, or want to own a Prius?
8. Do you believe that the only reason that socialism has failed everywhere it has been tried is because it just hasn’t been implemented properly?

Now, the answers:

1. “I don’t like guns” — immediate disqualification.  “Glock” — not a disqualification, but understand that some work may be necessary.  “Do you mean handgun, rifle or shotgun?” — definitely a candidate for romance.
2. “I don’t like alcohol” — immediate disqualification.  “Chablis/IPA” — not a disqualification, but understand that some work may be necessary. “Wine grown on the sunny slopes of…” — poseur alert, your call.  “Whatever gets me drunk quickest” — you may want to be careful with this one.  Or not.  “Depends on the occasion, the company and my mood” — strong candidate.
3. “Yes” — run FAR away.
4. “Liberal Arts” — approach with caution;  needs clarification (e.g. Anything Studies: no).  “Engineering” — considerable work may be necessary.  “Never saw the need for a degree, because I wanted to start my own construction business” — strong candidate.
5. “Yes” — run away.
6. “Neither because they’re causing climate change” — immediate disqualification.  “Actually, a turbo 4-cylinder is all I need” — not a bad answer, but be careful, especially if also an IPA-drinker.  “Well, I like both, but I prefer off-roading in my old truck” — strong candidate.
7. “Yes” — run away.
8. “Yes” — run FAR away.

These simple questions will be all the pre-qualifiers you’ll ever need.

Or you can just choose the astrological / chicken entrails path, you fucking loser.

“Dear Dr. Kim:

“My wife is 46 and I’m 48. We weren’t getting on and she was distracted, always on her phone, messaging someone. But when I managed to peek at her phone, all messages had been deleted — a tell-tale sign if ever there was one.

“I asked her if everything was OK between us, and she swore it was. She even made a special effort that weekend — cooking my favourite dinner and coming on to me for sex.
Still not convinced, I decided to hire a PI to follow her when she went to work. Within a week, he’d taken pictures of her meeting a man at a hotel — and checking into the same room.

“She had been blatantly lying to my face. Furious, I confronted her and said our marriage was over.

“In 24 hours I found a flat, moved out all my stuff and contacted a solicitor about divorce.

“But now, I’m starting to feel that I shouldn’t have gone.

“I’m the innocent, blameless party here, sitting alone in an ugly flat, with cheap furniture and a suitcase of my clothes. She’s the cheat who destroyed our marriage.

“Yet she gets to be in our beautiful, warm home with all the things we bought together over the years. Plus, I’m still paying half the mortgage on the house and will be until the divorce is sorted. It seems terribly unfair.

“And I know I’m far from the only man this has happened to. Why is it always the man who moves out?”

— Lost Everything

Dear Lost:

Your mistake was a rookie one.  You never give up the house.

What you should have done is what scorned women often do in the same situation:  while she was at work, emptied the house of all her stuff (including the ugly shit she’d acquired at antique stores etc. and which you hate) and either tossed it on the front lawn or (if you’re a nice guy) had it all stored it in one of those storage places — locked with a stout padlock to which you had the key.  Next step:  called a locksmith and had all the house’s locks changed.

Then when Cheating Lying Bitch came home and discovered that she’d been locked out, you could confront her with the evidence that she’d been unfaithful, the consequence of which was that you’d assumed ownership of the house.  And only then given her the key to the storage space, with instructions to call your attorney for details.

Let her be the one sitting alone in an ugly flat, with cheap furniture and a suitcase of her clothes.

And you’d have to be prepared to sell the house to give her half the proceeds (because she’s been contributing to paying off the note).

Never give up the house;  not in argument, nor when you can’t bear the thought of living with the woman anymore.  Never give up the house.

Do you want me to repeat that one more time?

“Dear Dr. Kim:

“I’m 24 years old, and I’ve been riding horses since around age 4, when I started taking lessons. When I was 10 I started helping out this girl at the stable with her horse Lady.

“When I was 12, she told me she had to sell due to time/interest and asked if me and my parents wanted to buy Lady. Luckily for me, my parents were able to buy her and she’s been mine ever since. She’s my best friend and I love her a lot.”

“When I started dating my 26-year-old boyfriend, I made sure to be upfront and honest about how much time I spend at the stables, as I was worried he’d think it was ‘too much’.

“He originally told me that he didn’t have a problem with my spending so much time there because it was important to me — but he started to change his tune as our relationship went on.

“When single I could spend three to four hours a day in the stable but as we started dating I cut this down to about three hours every other day,” she added.

“This is roughly how long it takes for me to do all the cleaning/preparing food/riding. Most of my friends are at the stable which obviously means this is also social for me.

“After about six months my boyfriend told me I spent too much time at the stable and I should prioritise my relationship more and somehow his family got involved, saying it was strange to prioritise the way I did.  I wasn’t comfortable with this but I am a bit of a pushover so I agreed.

“To try to appease him, I cut down on my riding hours even more as I was worried about my boyfriend blowing up at me for taking too long:  he’ll be annoyed and pissed off for days and give me the silent treatment.

“I know my horse isn’t really suffering from not being ridden as often as before but I still feel very guilty that I’m always rushing around her.

“Still annoyed by how much time I was spending at the stables, my boyfriend turned to me one night and asked me to put down my horse because ‘she’s old anyway’.  He told me it was time to sell Lady. I laughed at him and asked if he was serious. He was.

“I told him no and he said I needed to start prioritising this relationship more and I said I’ve done nothing but prioritise this relationship.  I was furious at this and told him that was absolutely not happening and I would never sell her.

“He said that any reasonable person would sell or put down their horse in favour of their boyfriend and the only reason I wouldn’t is because I only hang out with other insane horse people.

“Dr. Kim, what should I do?”

— Horse Lover, England

Dear Miss Horsey Person:

Let’s be absolutely clear about what’s going to happen in your near future.

Your beloved Lady is going to die at some point, and there’s no getting around it.

What you’ll be left with is the world’s biggest, most narcissistic asshole — a control freak par excellence — as well as his asshole family, who are where he got his narcissistic assholiness and control freakery from.  If you think he will be a shoulder to cry on when Lady dies, he won’t.

Dump the asshole now.  Do not pass GO, do not collect £200.  Break up with him in the most brutal way you can — let him catch you in bed bonking another bloke, is my suggestion — but ditch him nevertheless, and then ghost him and his foul family forever.  (I’m tempted to have one of my Brit friends call on him, but the murder rate in the U.K. is high enough already.)

I absolutely guarantee that your life will be better after wiping this piece of pig shit off your shoe.

There are much more worthy men out there for you, and even better, there are men who love horses as much as you do.  Find one of them, because he’ll be a better choice than Mr. Euthanasia.