To my loyal readers: The nitwits here at 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

Leave a Comment

Scroll to Top