Hello again, readers. Here’s hoping that the Spring weather wherever you live is as sweet as what we are experiencing here in Brooklyn. In what seemed like the blink of an eye, we went from having a foot of snow on the ground to strolling through sweet flurries of pink and white cherry blossoms at the Brooklyn Botanical Garden. Another blink, and Coney Island officially celebrated Spring with the opening of the Cyclone, that ancient wooden roller coaster that gets more thrilling with every year it defies gravity, termites and the wrecking ball. Everybody from the peewees to the grannies are coming out of the woodwork with smiles on their faces and love in their hearts. Let’s see what’s on your minds during this sweetest of times:

Dear Dot Kham: I am a twenty one-year old senior in college, and I graduate in June. The economy is in such a mess I’m not sure I can get any sort of job. What am I supposed to do with my life? – Ben Dover

Dear Ben Dover: Enjoy it, fool! You’re 21, you’ve got an education and you live in America. That’s what’s called hitting the lottery in life, pal. The hard times won’t last forever, they never do. You’ll find your way. If life was easy, this beautiful Springtime wouldn’t seem so special, would it? Stick around, dream your dreams and do your level best. One day you’ll see that the rewards are all that much sweeter for having been hard won.

Dear Dot Kham: I am 19 years old and beginning to see the world very differently from a lot of people I know. They tell me it’s a dog-eat-dog world and I should worry only about myself. But I’m okay, things are pretty good. I’m healthy, people tell me I’m pretty and I love being alive. That doesn’t seem like anything I should worry about. There are a lot of other people, though, who have it very hard, and I’d like to help them to see what I see, to get some love and enjoyment out of this beautiful life. I’m going to change my major in college next year, maybe become a doctor or something else where I can really help others. My boyfriend told me that he doesn’t like what I am becoming and I should always look out for #1, but that seems awful selfish to me. What should I do? – Becky

Dear Becky: Just be who you are child, and God bless you. And lose that Mr. Me-First boyfriend of yours. You have already helped someone feel better, me, and if this world had more Beckys, it would be a better place. Whatever you do with your life, I can see that you are one of those special people who leave others feeling better about themselves. When you give and when you help, you get more than you thought possible, so tell those people around you that looking out for others is looking out for yourself. You made my day, kiddo.

Dear Dot Kham: I’m Becky’s boyfriend, and who the hell do you think you are to tell her to be herself? She’s only 19 and doesn’t know how cruel this world can be. Why should she waste her time helping others who should be helping themselves? I’m 22 and I’ve been around the block a few times. I know that other people will only drag you down. How will she get through the hard times with her attitude? People will only take and take from her and hurt her. Let me tell Becky what’s what and keep your nose out of it. – Butch Wax

Dear Butch Wax: You’re 22 and you’ve been around the block a few times? Get real, bozo, I’ve got shoes older than you! While I can see that you care for Becky, you’ve got more problems than an algebra textbook and no solutions. As far as you telling her what’s what, it seems like Becky has a hell of a lot more to teach you than you can ever teach her. She’s walking joy and you’re just another arrogant young jerk who thinks he knows everything. Guess who will survive hard times better, you or her? She will, and she will make them easier on those around her, and if you’re very lucky you can be one of those people. But don’t count on it, Butch. Becky’s not made for bitterness and selfishness and doesn’t need your permission to be who she is. Who asked you? Thank your lucky stars that someone so very special ever looked at you twice, never mind gave herself to you. And those hard times you talk about? Well, without being too pessimistic, just let me say that you ain’t seen nothing yet! Those of us who actually have been around the block a few times know that life can be a bumpy ride and love, kindness and joy are to be cherished more than gold.

Dear Dot Kham: I know that politics isn’t generally your thing, but am a conservative who has been loyal to the political right my whole life. Only trouble is, Dot, is that I’m beginning to question some of the people who have led our movement these past few years. It seems they have been making a lot of blunders. Your thoughts? – Dick Shnifferr

Dear Dick Shnifferr: Blunders by the right wing? You think? How about invading the wrong country in 2003? Seems like quite a gaffe to me, as big a screwup as you can manage. How about tossing New Orleans a cinderblock when it was drowning? Did “compassionate conservatism” help them? Or how about the bunch of you crying like little girls when you got voted out of office and refusing to cooperate with your lawfully elected replacements? Winning any hearts and minds lately by opposing medical care, of all things, you selfish dogs? And why dust off Newt Gingrich, that corrupt piece of shit? What, the fat blob of a lying, racist drug addict Rush Limbaugh was too scary for you, or Sarah Plain’s just too friggin’ stupid to be a mammal? You people really have got to be kidding here, Dick! Only now you’re having second thoughts? Where were you when Dick Cheney was trying to repeal the Bill of Rights and torturing people like this was The Spanish Inquisition and not America? As far as politics not being my “thing,” well, just let me say that politics is how we deal with other people, whether on a personal or a public level. Either you treat them well, or you treat them like crap, and your team has been treating their fellow human beings like crap for a very long time. Wake up and smell the coffee, Dick, and try love instead of hate. It’s better for the world and better for you.

Hello readers. I don’t know if the phony religious trend in this country is growing or if it just seems that way since a lot of these clowns are such damned loudmouths, or if they just like to write to me because I write about sex a lot, that part of the human makeup only slightly less powerful than our drive to breathe and eat. Whatever the case, these people are really starting to get on old Dot’s nerves. Not a damned one of them would be here without sex. Not a damned one of them thinks about sex any less the the rest of us. Don’t get me wrong, people, I respect religion and know very well how it can bring comfort and purpose to many lives, and act as a powerful force for bringing out all that is good and decent in people.

At least that’s the idea. Unfortunately, religions of all kinds seem to have been hijacked by evil creeps with big mouths and small brains looking to get other people to join them in their campaigns of intolerance, pretty much the opposite of the mission statement of what religions are supposed to be about. Take the message of Jesus Christ, for example, the Prince of Peace with a simple message of love, respect, and kindness towards all people. All I can say is that it’s a it’s a good thing He rose from the dead or He would have spent the past 2,000 years rolling in His grave. Check out some of these jokers:

Dear Dot Kahm: I have been following your column and I find your casual attitude towards sex appalling. America is obsessed with sex and you aren’t helping! This is wrong and God is not amused! What do have to you say to that? – Myrna from Michigan

Dear Myrna: I say it’s too bad your parents didn’t share your aversion to one of humanity’s most powerful drives. This way I wouldn’t have to be talking to you now and there would be one less annoying misfit in this world. And while God might not be amused, you have to figure He’s wondering how good something has to be if even one of the most wonderful things He gave us is considered not good enough for the likes of you. What more do you want, Myrna, that your pussy should sing Hosannas when you’re getting busy?

Dear Dot Kahm: I am a prostitute, Dot, and don’t care who knows it. I like my work but I’m a little sick and tired of people judging me. I have a commodity that is much in demand, and I sell my services to clients who are happy to pay. I work as hard as anyone and earn an honest living, and a pretty damned good one, too. Why should I risk arrest pursuing the world’s oldest profession? – Kandy Kane

Dear Kandy Kane: You’re preaching to the choir, here, kiddo. Doing what comes naturally is no crime, and this country needs to grow up about sex. What are we, infants? Why people think sex is a sin is a mystery to me. Might as well outlaw eating and breathing for all the good it will do. People need sex and many men are willing to pay for it. Do the math.

Dear Dot Kahm: My name is Roger and I’m a forty five-year old bachelor who enjoys great sex and doesn’t mind paying for it. Can I get Kandy Kane’s number? – Roger Framunda

Dear Roger Framunda: No can do. I don’t give out people’s numbers without permission. Can I pass yours along to her?

Dear Dot Kahm: No, don’t do that! – Roger Framunda

Dear Roger: Why didn’t you just say you were married, Rog? Married men are working girls’ best customers! Sorry, but I still can’t hook you up. This is not eHorny.com, it’s Dot Kahm. You’ll have to do your own sniffing out, Dawg.

Dear Dot Kahm: I am the father of 3 beautiful daughters ages 15 to 19. There is a constant stream of young boys coming to our house and I don’t like it. I know what boys are after, just the one thing. I was their age once, so I know. What should I tell my girls? Big Daddy

Dear Big Daddy: If you or their mother haven’t spoken frankly to your daughters about boys and sex and birth control by this time, you should be ashamed of yourselves! Well, Big Daddy, I was once their age too, and guess what? Girls have one thing on their minds too! They are just as curious and eager to explore their burgeoning sexuality as boys, and need their parents to guide and advise them. They are going to learn about and experience sex with or without your input, pal, so if I were you I’d sit them down ASAP and tell them about birth control, personal hygiene and personal responsibility and hope you’re not too late to teach them that sex is a normal, healthy and vital part of life, and when properly shared is an elevation, never a degradation, of their femininity, humanity and desirability. By age 15 a girl has a pretty god idea of what sex is all about, and I hope their ideas were formed with the input of their parents. Be a Big Daddy already and talk to your girls. They’re not doing anything wrong by being beautiful and desirable, but you’re doing something wrong by not addressing this most basic of life issues. With your guidance, their sex lives (and you cannot prevent them from having one, so forget that) will be healthy and rewarding rather than traumatic and tawdry.

Dear Dot Kahm: I have small children and I’m considering what to tell them about sex when the time comes. What do you think of the celibacy option? – Dora the non-Explorer

Dear Dora The Non-Explorer: For who? Maybe for people in a coma, but for everyone else, celibacy just isn’t happening. All those half-wit phony Christians out there pushing abstinence on their children are kidding themselves, and statistics show that their kids are getting just as busy with one another as anyone else’s. The only difference is that their kids wind up sneaking around, feeling guilty and wicked for doing what comes naturally. Celibacy, my left tit! Check out my reply above to Big Daddy. The time to tell them about sex is sooner than you think.

Dear Dot Kahm: My boyfriend says he loves me but would like me to have bigger breasts. Should I get implants to please him? – Little Nell

Dear Little Nell: Your boyfriend is a lying sack of shit and you need to dump his sorry ass now. Have you asked him to have surgery? Odds are this guy will never be pleased with you, so don’t go the Bride of Frankenstein route just because he’s a jerk. That train only leads to plastic surgery, further feelings of inadequacy, more plastic surgery and finally a stretched, expressionless face and health complications. There’s plenty of guys who love cute little titties, Nell, and who will love you just as you are.

Dear Dot Kahm: What is the most important thing about a lover? – Randy

Dear Randy: Generosity. Lovers come in all shapes and sizes, but someone who remembers that you’re in the room too and goes out of his or her way to give as well as receive pleasure is what makes a great lover.

Well, kids, Dot Kahm singing off for now. Until next time, be good, kind and generous to your lover, and have a little fun too. Sex is how grownups play.

Hello readers. I hope your  Valentine’s Day was a good one, or at least not too crushing a disappointment. So often we invest so much emotion and anticipation in one particular holiday that it can never live up to our fervent hopes and dreams. New Year’s Eve comes to mind, or Amateur Night as those of us with a few miles on our odometers refer to it. Valentine’s Day, with a more-than-able assist from greedy corporations, is tailor-made for a huge letdown. Love, like life itself, is a process, not an event.

Love is never perfect, any more than any of us are, and investing unrealistic expectations in something as magical and hard to define as love is a setup for major disillusionment. No need to go there. Appreciate your loved ones every day, and measure the strength of your relationships on their endurance, their continuing tenderness and understanding, and not on one particular day. If we fell out of love when a bad day occurred, every relationship would be over inside a month. At most. That said, let’s check the inbox and see how your lives are progressing. Or not, as the case may be:

Dear Dot Kahm: Gee, I wish I’d read your intro before I wrote this letter, but what’s done is done. Anyway, I’m a single man in his late twenties and I’ve been dating Hillary for three years. Ours has been a special relationship and this Valentine’s Day I decided to pop the question. I asked her to live with me. She turned me down, Dot, and I can’t get over it. Now she’s so mad at me she doesn’t want to see me anymore. I knew she wanted to get married, but I figured that we’d ease into it. I’ve been crying ever since. What am I going to do? – Miserable in Manhasset

Dear Miserable: Here’s what you’re going to do: Get over it, you sniveling wimp! After three damned years, now you decide to take the tepid step of playing house? That’s something lovers do in the first few months of a relationship if they’re of a mind to do so. Three years is more than enough time to know whether or not you want to marry that person, and to know the mind of that person, if they may have objections to living together versus marrying. Didn’t you know? You insulted the lady, Miserable, and she is to be commended for not bitch-slapping your whining face purple! When it was time to shit or get off the pot, you farted and sat there like a mook. Maybe with the next lady who’s good enough to invest a chunk of her life with you, you’ll grow a pair of testicles and let her know that either you’re not the marrying kind, and that’s okay too, or that you want her forever, and then let her make her decision fully informed. As always, honesty is the best policy, starting with yourself, which you obviously are not.

Dear Dot Kahm: What’s a mook? -Wondering in Wisconsin

Dear Wondering in Wisconsin: Mook is Brooklyn term, meaning a person who simply does not get it, whatever it is, unless it is about them. To a mook, the portion of any conversation not specifically about them sounds sort of like a feint humming sound, or background noise, and is paid no mind at all. That’s a mook, as in: Don’t be a mook! Never dignify a mook with a capital M, either.

Dear Dot Kahm: Like you, Dot, I am from Brooklyn. My boyfriend asked me where I’d like to go on a beautiful Sunday afternoon last summer and when I told him Coney Island, he laughed! He’s not from New York and has never been there, but he had the nerve to tell me Coney Island is a chaotic old wreck in the middle of a slum. I just wanted to share a special place in my hometown with the guy and he completely blew me off, so I dumped him. Was I too hasty? – Coney Island Baby

Dear Coney Island Baby: Hasty, shmasty! There’s magic in Coney Island girl, a place like no other on Earth. I’m glad you wrote me now, Hon, since the middle of a hard winter is the perfect time to think abut Coney Island. Let that fool visit one of those uber-boring homogenized and controlled theme parks in the middle of nowhere with his homogenized and controlled new girlfriend (which rules out Brooklyn ladies!). No Nathans, no freak shows, no gypsies from who-knows-where speaking who-knows-what language, no Cyclone and no Wonder Wheel, and no boardwalk with a beach filled with a million smiling faces! And here’s some more good news, kiddo: by opening day, a rebuilt Luna Park will be open this year with 23 new rides. You were right to dump that chump, not only for his disrespect of Coney Island, but for dismissing your thoughts and wishes out of hand, and for insisting on sticking to an opinion based on no knowledge, facts or experience, as fatal a flaw and any human being can possess! Take your new man to Coney Island and the Brooklyn Botanical Garden too! He will thank you for sharing special Brooklyn places and opening his eyes.

Dear Dot Kahm: What do you think about the exciting news that King Tut died of Malaria? – Brian Jiggs

Dear Brian: Not much. Shouldn’t you be writing to Sammy Science? The only stiffs that excite me aren’t mummies, if you catch my drift, pal.

Dear Dot Kahm: Are you single? I’d sure like to meet you. – Teddy Bear

Dear Teddy Bear: I am, and you sure can meet me, Teddy Bear. That is, if the photo you sent me is really you. If not, be prepared for a beat down from a black belt in RHIAW, which stands for Random Household Items As Weapons. Review my honesty guidelines before approaching.

Dear Dot Kahm: Do you believe in coincidence? – Wondering in Waukegan?

Dear Wondering: That’s funny, I was just thinking about coincidence! What a … oh never mind!

Dear Dot Kahm: My husband is a police detective, and he says there is no such thing as a coincidence! – Mona from Staten Island

Dear Mona: That’s funny, I was just thinking about how cops never seem to believe in coincidences! Spooky, no?

Dear Dot Kahm: How’s this for a coincidence – my name is Dot and I also come from Brooklyn! – Dot Saul

Dear Dot Saul: Sorry, but I think we’ve exhausted the subject of coincidence.

Well, readers, we seem to be getting off topic here, so good old Dot Kahm is signing off for now. I’ve got to get ready for a hot date with Teddy Bear. Until next time, be good, be kind and be honest, and demand the same of others.

Well readers, let’s see what maladjusted creeps have been e-mailing me this week with their unsolvable problems. It seems there’s no shortage of people out there who just don’t get it, whatever it is, and sad to say, even the best advice I can give some of these losers is going to fall on deaf ears. That’s life, folks, and all we can do is our best, so let’s open these e-mails and see if we can’t make a few dents in the walls of ignorance, fear and chaos that too often pass for a reasonable thought process:

Dear Dot Kahm: I am an investment banker with an internationally famous financial institution and I for one am sick and tired of having people blame me personally for the economic breakdown of 2008. I did my job to the best of my ability and was well rewarded for my efforts, which seems to aggravate  lot of people, especially those who lost some money during the crisis. What can I do to make people stop blaming their misfortune on me just because I’m wealthy and an easy target? – Misunderstood in Manhattan

Dear Misunderstood: Now you know how lawyers feel, pal. When people see an investment banker these days, they can’t help but think: “unindicted co-conspirator.” And while you were doing your job to “the best of your ability,” did it ever occur to you that playing high stakes poker with other people’s money isn’t what people expect of those they trusted with the cookie jar? What you can do to correct people’s opinion of you and your kind is to lead the charge to weed out the criminals from your ranks, and scale your salaries back to plain fantastic instead of unbelievably rapacious. Where does it say that working for a bank makes you an automatic multimillionaire? You people didn’t invent a damned thing and produce no products at all. You think that people “losing some money” was the whole story, you arrogant windbag? There’s families tossed out of their homes and living on the street, senior citizens eating cat food and one out of ten people out of work thanks to people who were already really rich deciding that they should get to keep all the money. To most people, you’re just a gangster in a suit, and if that bothers you, get a different job in a more honest profession, like a pimp or a stickup artist. At least those people don’t pretend to be something they’re not. Save your crocodile tears for someone who gives a crap!

Dear Dot Kahm: My mother says it’s wrong to download movies and songs from the internet without paying for them, that this is stealing. I tell her that I’m only doing what everyone else is doing. Why should I have to pay? Besides, film makers and singers are rich! – Grounded in Georgetown

Dear Grounded: Listen to your mother, you miserable little geek! Just because someone is rich doesn’t mean it’s okay to steal from them. If that were the case, why not steal some rich person’s wristwatch? They can afford another one, right? Car companies are rich, too, so why not drive a new car off the lot without paying for it? You tell me what’s the difference, other than risking arrest or a severe beating by stealing in person instead with the click of a mouse from the safety of your home. Better yet, invest your body and soul, dedicate your entire life to producing something creative and enjoyable, something that people like and admire, and see how eager you are to give it away for nothing! “What everyone else is doing” doesn’t cut it. Stealing is stealing, punk!

Dear Dot Kahm: What’s your take on the Mayan prediction that the world will end in 2012? – Worried in Waukeegan

Dear Worried: Seems to me that the world ended for the Mayans a long time ago, so why worry about what the hell they think? If they were so smart, how come they didn’t predict the Spaniards coming across the ocean and dancing the Flamenco on their civilization? That would have lent a little more credibility to their fortune telling, no?

Dear Dot Kahm: I am searching for the perfect man. Any tips? – Idealist in Idaho

Dear Idealist: I don’t have any tips, but don’t let me stop you in your search. I am assuming, of course, that you are the perfect woman, otherwise you have no business at all seeking the perfect man. Meanwhile, send Dot Kahm some of the more promising candidates that didn’t quite make the grade. There’s plenty of good men around, and if they have a few flaws, well, that’s fine with me, and that’s often what makes men so interesting. No one is perfect honey, but there just might be someone out there who’s perfect for you. Happy hunting.

Dear Dot Kahm: I have been following your columns, and it seems to me that you enjoy the company of men a little too much. I am a religious person and feel that your interest in sex is immoral. – Appalled in Arkansas

Dear Appalled: Religious, eh? What religion would that be that feels God made a mistake when he created men and women to be so powerfully attracted to one another? Guess you and your people know better than the manufacturer, and figure like a lot of misguided fools that the good things in life are “temptations” to be resisted. Why not include food, water and shelter in those categories? Or maybe condemn singing and dancing while you’re at it, like some phony jerkoffs do in the name of a God they imagine to be some sort of heartless prick who only wants to us to suffer. Well, this life includes plenty of suffering, and if you want more than you absolutely need to endure, help yourself, but don’t ask me not to stop and smell the roses that God created for our endless joy! Go pray for enlightenment, you sniveling prude, while I enjoy our Creator’s gift to all of us, our sexuality, as glorious a part of humanity as can be imagined! Religious, my left tit! You crap all over God when you go about correcting His “mistakes.” You should thank Him that your mother didn’t share your fear of sex or we wouldn’t be having this so-called conversation!

That’s all for this week, people. Until next time, enjoy this gift of life.

Well, readers, since my last outing in this space, when I completely claimed my whole page from the boss, who had been writing the introductions to your letters, things have been going swimmingly here at bobcrespo.com. I showed Mr. Bossman himself, Bob Crespo, one of the talents I used to keep my late husband Frank a happy camper, and now you can’t wipe the shiteating grin off his face whenever I drop by the office. So girls, do yourself a favor and learn to kneel to conquer, if you get my drift, and don’t let anyone tell you that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. Please! Now, before I deal with whatever misfits decided to write to me this week, let me remind you to send some money to Haiti to help some good people who are in desperate need. The rescue operation may be over, but the need for help is still huge, so open your hearts and wallets and do some good.

Dear Dot Kahm: I’m a 50 year-old housewife and I’m tired and cranky all the time. My husband doesn’t pay any attention to me anymore and my children rarely call or visit. My cleaning ladies keep quitting too. What should I do? – Bitter in The Bronx

Dear Bitter: Well, Hon, it sounds unanimous, you’re a huge pain in the ass. When even your kids can’t stand you and poor women who desperately need the job won’t work for you, it doesn’t take an Einstein to do the math here. Who can blame your family for ignoring your annoying ass? Ever try being nice to anybody? Feeling grateful for your privileged life, maybe? Or finding something to do all day long? Here’s a clue: it’s not the whole damned world that’s wrong, it’s you.

Dear Dot Kahm: Who gives you advice? – Wondering in Washington

Dear Wondering: Too many people. The better question is: Who’s do I take?

Dear Dot Kahm: My boyfriend is a real smart guy who tells me all sorts of things, not all of which I understand. He says that’s okay, since if I listen him and do everything he says, I’ll be perfect. He says he knows how I should dress, how I should behave and what I should think. Dot, he’s a nice guy and all, but I don’t feel comfortable doing and thinking things just on his say-so. Am I being obstinate, like he tells me? – Peggy in Peoria

Dear Peggy in Peoria: Sounds like you’ve gotten yourself involved with a classic control freak, kiddo, and they can never be pleased, ever. Guess again about the “real smart” part, too, and tell him to go somewhere else and create perfect women. I can see you’ve got the beginnings of a mind of your own. Continue along those lines and stay away from know-it-all jerks who think they have all the answers. I know I sure don’t, but I can smell this guy’s line of bullshit a mile away.

Dear Dot Kahm: My wife Lizzie likes to wear sexy clothing, and she’s a real knockout. Sounds like a dream come true, right? My problem, however, is this: a lot of men are always checking her out, like she’s available and even though she’s not a flirt, I get uncomfortable with the attention she gets. Am I being unreasonable? – Lizzie’s Man

Dear Lizzie’s so-called Man: First off, I congratulate you for your honesty. Second, let me just tell you to get the stick out of your butt and let Lizzie dress in a way that makes her feel feminine and desirable. You could have a wife that no other man wants to look at. Is that what you’d like? Or do you want a sexy knockout who likes to celebrate her sexuality and look good for you?  It’s either one way or the other, so the answer is yes, as in yes you are being unreasonable, you insecure wimp!

Dear Dot Kahm: I am an avid member of the animal rights group PETA. Will you tell your readers how very important our work is?

Dear Loretta: Sure hon, just as soon as every last human being on the planet is fine, then maybe we can worry about your little cause. Meanwhile, 36,000 people just starved to death today, and 36,000 more will join them tomorrow. Are you aware that Haiti is in a shambles, grinding poverty and illiteracy is widespread, malaria and other curable disease are ravaging Third World nations and more than 6 million people die every year from unsanitary water supply-related diseases? Ask someone else to worry about ferrets and poodles. I’ll worry about people if you don’t mind. And don’t let me catch any of you antisocial misfits eyeballing my mink coat with your little cans of red spray paint or you’ll be needing surgery to remove my high heel from your rear end.

To my loyal readers: The nitwits here at bobcrespo.com finally let me write my own intros to my advice column. I told the big boss, Bob Crespo himself, it was either that or I get lost and take my shtick to another website. Yes, Mister My-Name-Is-In-The-Title-So-I Can-Do-What-I-Want was writing my intros and doing a lame friggin’ job of it if you ask me. I told him where to stick his smug jokes and to let me handle my own opening before I get to the letters from you emotional cripples and weirdos. I told him it’s not like I plan to use the words “motherfucker” or “shitstain” all the time, so what’s his beef? Believe me, he’s a real piece of work, this one, and could use some of old Dot Kham’s best heart to heart advice, like: “Get over yourself, bozo, you ain’t the only one in Brooklyn knows how to tell it like it is!” So from here on in this page will be all Dot Kham all the time! Now let’s see what whining drones have written to me this week:

Dear Dot: With all this terrorism I am afraid to fly anymore. I think we need harsher laws to stop these people, don’t let them get on airplanes. What should I do? – Frightened in Phiadelphia

Dear Frightened: How about getting a life, you friggin’ moron, and growing a pair of balls? You have a better chance of getting struck by lighting than being a victim of terrorism. You want to surrender your civil rights because a few incompetent camel jockeys don’t like Coney Island, go right ahead and stay in friggin’ Philly with your cheese steaks and second-best baseball team! Just don’t ask the rest of us to stop being Americans because you’re afraid of woman-hating fags who think they can change the way we live with a few bombs. Listen, pal, it was my town that was attacked on 9/11, and we didn’t surrender then and don’t plan to anytime soon. We got plenty of A-rabs in Brooklyn and they’re okay Joes for the most part, even if their food smells like old dogshit. They got as much right to enjoy American civil liberties as shmucks like you who would play right into the terrorists’ hands and live in a Big Brother society. It’s chumps like you who love The Patriot Act and getting spied on and having people locked up without access to a lawyer like the Gestapo came for them! What’s worse than that?

Dear Dot: My pet poodle Fluffy is getting old and the vet says he needs an operation to cure his cancer, but that would cost $8,000. What do you think his chances are? Loving Fluffy in L.A.

Dear Shit For Brains: I look like Marcus Welby, M.D. to you? How the hell would I know what your dog’s chances are? You want to spend 8 grand on a cancer operation? Fine, spend it on somebody’s kid that that some corporate HMO told them it was a pre-existing condition and they won’t pay. While it’s bad news that your poodle is dying, the good news is that Fluffy’s only a damned dog, you idiot! Put him out of his misery, go to the dog pound and adopt another young and healthy pooch that they will only kill if no one adopts them, and donate the $8,000 to a poor family to help their sick child survive. Where are your priorities? Sometimes I can’t believe I have to explain such obvious crap to you people! Have you been paying attention to this thing we have called life? Open your friggin’ eyes, we’re all in this together!

Dear Dot: My boyfriend Jimmy says that men are naturally polygamous and that it’s okay for him to screw around with other women as long as he comes home to me. He’s a great lover and a decent guy and I love him and don’t want to lose him. Should I let him fool around on me? – Penelope in Queens

Dear Penelope: Some people are going to screw around no matter what, men or women. At least Jimmy is upfront about it. Just tell Romeo that if it’s okay for him, then he won’t mind you banging other guys. If he’s okay with that, then you should be okay with his stray dog tendencies. Bottom line is, you can’t help who you fall in love with, and if the guy’s a mutt but he’s good to you, well, you’ve got to ask yourself if you’d be better off with him or without him. The arbitrary sex rules we set up for ourselves too often doom good relationships. As long as your home life isn’t torn apart and you’re getting plenty of Jimmy’s loving, what’s the big whoop?

Dear Ms. Kham: My name is Fred Trilling from Detroit and I have a tough question for you: My 1957 Chevy Bel Air Hardtop is the envy of my antique car club and I’m very proud of it. It’s in perfect condition, but a couple of parts are wearing out, like the struts and the chrome grille, which I think I polished into near-disintegration. Some excellent replica replacement parts are available but I want original ‘57 Chevy parts. Am I being unreasonable? – Fred Trilling from Detroit.

Dear Fred Trilling from Detroit: Hell no, Freddie boy! Your car is not only your pride and joy but a national treasure, reminding America that this was a better country when everybody drove giant flashy cars, smoked cigarettes and ate steaks! Replica parts for a ‘57 Chevy? Might as well tell old Dot Kham to get herself a new plastic pussy ’cause I used it so damned much! Some things are classics and thus sacred, and old Chevies and my nether regions qualify. You just get in touch with my pal Vito from Canarsie, who appreciates all things classic, if you get my drift. He’s in the vintage car business and if he can’t get an original part, it can’t be gotten, and believe me, he’s got a full inventory of Classic Chevy original parts. Guess what I drive around Brooklyn every day? A fire engine red ‘57 Chevy Bel Air Convertible with full original chrome detailing, and Vinny is the guy who keeps my car (and me) running smooth with original Chevy parts, including the hard-to-find white-on-white convertible top. Bless you, Fred Trilling from Detroit, and if you’re ever in Brooklyn you can look up Dot Kahm and we’ll compare original parts!

Dear Dot: It’s the New Year and I need to make some resolutions. Any suggestions? – Amenable in Alabama

Dear Amenable: Being that it’s after the New Year, maybe a procrastination-related resolution might be appropriate. Better yet, how about resolving to decide for yourself who the hell you are instead of asking me? Make a mental list of all your other New Year’s resolutions and see if you kept a single one. I know the only one I ever kept is to swear off unrealistic expectations and self-delusion. I renew that one every year just so I can say I made a damned resolution. Meanwhile, the trick is to be who you are all year long, the best friggin’ version of you that you can be. Happy New Year, kids

Since we introduced our advice column by Ms. Dorothy “Dot” Kahm, bobcrespo.com has been flooded with e-mails from the lovelorn and confused. Dot Kahm’s down to earth, no-nonsense advice has apparently struck a chord:

Dear Dot: I have been dating the same man for 11 years now, and he keeps promising to divorce his wife and marry me, but he always has some excuse or other not to leave her. Lately he’s giving me the old song and dance about waiting for the kids to grow up. Dot, his kids are in their 20s! What should I do? – Waiting in Wisconsin

Dear Waiting: Since you didn’t forward a photo, I can’t help but wonder if you look as stupid as you sound. You know exactly what to do, you ignorant bimbo, but you’re too much of a damned doormat to do it! Don’t blame any man for wiping his feet on a doormat, honey, that’s what doormats are for.

Dear Dot: I have a friend who has a big problem, and I wonder what I can say that might help him out. It seems that he used to be a big acting star but lately the roles have been few and far between and of very low quality, even though my friend is just as talented as ever. Should he fire his agent and manager and get new representation? – Anxious in Anaheim

Dear Anxious: Don’t hand me that “friend” crap, buster! You’re David Hasselhoff and you’re right, you have just as much talent as ever- none! A new agent won’t change that. Get used to “Dancing With The Stars” and infomercials, pal, where careers go to die. It’s just your bum luck that they cancelled “Love Boat” “Fantasy Island,” and “Hollywood Squares,” shows featuring has-beens like yourself that were at least campy and fun. Forget about any more “Bay Watch” reunions, you’re all way too flabby for bathing suits. And as for “Knight Rider,” that dopey talking car showed a wider range of emotions than you.

Dear Dot: Whenever I meet a new woman, I get all sweaty, nervous, uptight and tongue-tied. It’s very frustrating, Dot. What should I do? – Lonesome Jim

Dear Lonely and Horny: Ever hear of hookers? They don’t give a rat’s ass how awkward and stammering you are as long as you pay cash money. And who knows, you might even learn to relax once you’re getting laid on a regular basis, and hanging around with hookers is a good way to remove that stick from your ass. Women are only people too, Jimmy, no need to get nuts about the whole thing.

Dear Dot: I am a scientist and I’ve been working on a theory about interstellar gravitational displacement my whole life but there’s one equation that’s been preventing me from proving my ideas. I’m enclosing the pertinent numbers problems. Any thoughts? – Flummoxed in Florida

Dear Flummoxed: You’re making a common mistake in your integrated mathematics, Flummoxed. Try substituting the xy variable of the tangential sub-equation with the figure 168.779823 and it works out perfectly. See Einstein’s paper on the curvature of space and review Kurt Godel’s Incompleteness Theorems. You’ll find they confirm your conclusions and your theory vastly improves human understanding of stellar drift mechanics and their effect on the cosmos. Glad to be of help.

Dear Dot: My girlfriend tells me I should get a job and move out of my mother’s basement, but that’s where all my computers and video games are. Besides, I make lots of money hacking into the bank accounts of rich people. Should I listen to my girl? – Zorba the Geek

Dear Zorba The Geek: Since when do nerds get to have girlfriends? Sounds to me like you’re ahead of the dweeb curve, Zorba. And if you’re making so much money, why don’t you buy this girlfriend of yours some expensive jewelry and nice clothes? Odds are she’ll stop breaking your balls.

Dear Dot: Is it just me or is this world getting crazy lately? -Nutso Norman

Dear Nutso: It’s just you.

Dear Dot: Could you speak out on the degradation of women through sex? – Lily Belle

Dear Lilly Belle: Speak for yourself, you prissy ditz! Good sex is an elevation of your humanity and femininity, not a degradation. What you need is a new partner, or several. With a mouthful of a real man, maybe you won’t be wasting my time talking such stupid shit. Have some fun already!

Dear Dot: I am ten years old and my Mom thinks I’m too young to be thinking about girls, but I can’t help it. Is there something wrong with me? – Billy

Dear Billy: Bless your heart kiddo, but at only ten, thinking about girls is all I’d recommend for now. But I will tell you this, Billy: you have a bright future ahead of you. Just remember to stay curious and always take your time. Girls like a boy like that.

Dear Dot: Do you ever feel alienated? – Horace

Dear Horace: No.

Dear Dot: Whenever I go jogging, I get a huge hard-on. It’s very embarrassing. Any suggestions? – Bulging in Brooklyn

Dear Bulging: Sure, just jog over to my place and I’ll take care of that problem personally. I live on Avenue U and East 56th Street, third house from the corner, the one with the replica of Michaelangelo’s David out front.

Today bobcrespo.com introduces a new feature on THE SECOND BEST WEBSITE EVER, an advice column for the lovelorn and otherwise confused. Our columnist is the renowned Dorothy “Dot” Kahm, a kindly old bat who’s a real straight shooter and seems to know what she’s talking about. Ms. Kahm is a lifelong resident of Brooklyn, N.Y., and lives down the block from our corporate offices, another contributing factor in her successful interview for the position. Without further ado, please welcome “Dear Dot Kahm.”

Dear Dot: I’m a successful athlete with a high profile who has run into some unwanted publicity as the result of a minor car accident, a mere fender-bender, really. I don’t know how this happened, but thanks to nosy vampires in the media, all of a sudden women are coming out of the woodwork claiming to be my girlfriend, and I’m a happily married man with a beautiful wife and children. How should I respond to these outrageous claims?  – Befuddled in Florida.

Dear Befuddled: I know who you are, you stinking phony! You’re Tiger Woods, the famous golfer who can’t keep his putter in his pants. Nothing wrong with that, it’s just that you lied about who you are. What kind of jerk does that, especially when you’re famous and use those same “media vampires” to keep you that way? I’ll bet you thought you could pretend forever, fool!  Well, guess again, punk, and don’t come crying to Dot Kahm for sympathy! No one wants to hear rich people complain, not ever for any reason! You want my advice? Hire a private detective to find out who Mrs. Tiger is banging while you’re off pretending to be an athlete playing that sissy game that even my fat late husband Frank could play. Do you really need 7 gardeners and 3 pool boys? How else can you explain why your kids look Guatemalan, you egotistical bozo? What’s good for the goose…

Dear Dot: I have a boyfriend who says he loves me, and really loves the way I, um, perform a certain act for him. The only trouble is that he won’t commit, saying that since I do it so good I must have had a lot of practice, implying that I’m a slut or something. That’s so not fair, Dot! I mean, how would he know if I was good or not if he didn’t have lots of experience himself? – Hoover Girl from Queens

Dear Hoover Girl: Welcome to the real world, hon. It’s still a huge double standard for us babes who like sword swallowing (yes, old Dot Kahm can still make the salami disappear, thank you!). Leave it to a man to reject a girl for doing what he likes best. My advice? Dump that ingrate loser, find a real man to marry you, and go out and charge money on the side for your natural talent. How do you think old Dot bought my 3-family house on Avenue U, with my late husband Frank’s bus driver pay? Get real! As long as he was happy, he didn’t care what I did in my spare time. And believe me, girl, the man died with a big smile on his face!

Dear Dot: I want to like our new president, I really I do, I even voted for him, but how can I express my displeasure with him acting just like Bush The Younger with the troops surges and the billion dollar handouts to wealthy corporations without seeming like a racist? – Sensitive in Salinas

Dear Sensitive: What the hell is wrong with you? You don’t like something someone does, say so! Not speaking up because of someone’s skin color is the more racist act. You think there’s not assholes in every ethnic group? There sure as hell are, and you don’t have to pretend otherwise. Even in your “sensitive” set, sweetums. Wanna see one? Just look in the mirror, you friggin’ moron!

Dear Dot: I have a touchy problem Dot, and I hope you can help me. My new son-in-law is a great guy, sexy as all get-out, and hung like a Clydesdale. My daughter doesn’t seem to appreciate him, hardly ever giving him any pussy, and so I’ve take it upon myself to “welcome him into the family,” if you know what I mean. We’ve been very careful, and it’s just too much fun to stop, but I know it’s wrong. What should I do? – Momma Cougar in Cincinnati

Dear Momma Cougar: How did a horny old bitch like you raise such a prude daughter? Sounds like you’re both having fun, girl, but just don’t let Miss Goody Two Shoes find out. If I were you I’d buy one of those 2-family “mother-daughter” houses and invite them to move in, then tell your daughter she needs a career and to just let you look after the “household” for her. This way your son-in-law will always feel welcome, especially if you share the talent that Hoover Girl and I have!

Dear Dot: When serving pate´, is it permissible to use demitasse spoons to serve it? I have the most wonderful set of carved demitasse spoons I rarely get to show off that would work admirably. – Curious Hostess in Scarsdale

Dear Curious: Do I remind you of Martha friggin’ Stewart? Who gives a good crap what your serve that gooey swill with? It still tastes like salty shit on a stick! You want to show off your pretty spoons? Make earrings out of them and parade around naked while your serve your damned pate′! That will be the only way a shallow twit like you will ever impress anyone at one of your boring soirees! You want etiquette tips, include me out!

Dear Dot: When traveling, it is best to learn the language of the country you plan to visit? – The Considerate Tourist

Dear Considerate Tourist: Are you American or some kind of pinko commy chump? Just speak very loud and very slow, repeating yourself often, and they’ll get your drift. If not, it’s their loss, those gibberish-speaking jackasses! If they want your American dollars so bad, they’ll learn to speak proper American like a normal person.

Dear Dot: I am a teenage boy with a problem. It seems my friends don’t like me anymore since I started sleeping with the best looking girl in school. Sometimes I miss them and don’t feel like “one of the boys” anymore. Should I break it off with my girl? We’re having a lot of fun and learning so much, it would seem a shame. – Jimmy from Baltimore

Dear Jimmy: Are your friends giving you head and humping you bowlegged? If the answer is no, then the hell with them, the jealous little creeps! Go where your bread gets buttered, Jimmy, and find friends who will be happy for you when good things happen in your life. That’s one of the first steps to becoming a man. That and all the wild sweaty sex. Live it up, kiddo.

Editor’s note: The opinions expressed here are solely those of Dot Kahm, and not necessarily those of management. Then again, management isn’t in disagreement with her either, and she certainly does have a unique talent.