Don’t call it a comeback, because nobody cares enough to comment.
Welcome to Craccum, where we put the “agony” in “agony aunt.” We’re not qualified to deal with your problems, but neither are you.
Wait a second – didn’t you resign in disgrace?
You’re thinking of Stuart McCutcheon.
I keep seeing the Bumble matches I talked with/went on dates with on campus. How do I make things worse for myself?
Next time you spot one:
- Hover close by and talk loudly to your friends about how you have a flesh-eating STI.
- Unzip your jacket, revealing a t-shirt that reads “I DIDN’T CALL YOU BACK BECAUSE YOU SMELL.”
- Offer them directions to their next class, but actually send them to the centre of the Recreation Centre construction site.
- Squeal in delight, run over, and give them a huge hug. Do not release them for several minutes.
- Propose. (Carry a ring at all times for this very purpose.)
How do I increase my grade’s in university?
Firstly, learn how to use apostrophes. Secondly, if I knew how to be successful, do you think I’d be a part-time unpaid comedy columnist? Take the Cs and cry yourself to sleep like the rest of us.
How do I ask out my ex’s friend?
Um, you don’t??? Why would you need an Agony Aunt to tell you that when COMMON SENSE should have taken care of it?? What is wrong with you people?! Do you enjoy having complicated and doomed social relationships?
Seriously, you shouldn’t need me to tell you that this is a bad idea. Sit down and take a multivitamin because y’all are going to drive me to an early grave.
I’ve been in a relationship with a girl for some months now – things have been going amazing. But last week she revealed to me she’s been working as a stripper at Calendar Girls and I don’t really know what to do. I knew she was working part-time and she reserved Friday nights for “me-time”, and it turns out she’s been working there before we started dating. I love her, but the thought of her with other men (plus keeping it a secret for so long) hurts, wtf do I do?
Look, you’re allowed to be bothered by what you’re bothered by – if you don’t want a girlfriend who’s a stripper, you don’t have to have one, just like she doesn’t have to stop just because you don’t like it. Decide if it’s a deal breaker. If it’s not, then lean the fuck in. Become a zealous cheerleader for her. Show up every night she’s there with a giant stack of $20 bills and a t-shirt with her name/face on it, starts chants inspired by her name, and scream, “THAT’S MY GIRL” every time she removes an item of clothing. I’m sure that will really help her rake in the big bucks.
CRACCUM’S CRACKIN’ TIP
It’s that time of year where the weather is as unpredictable as Twitter’s opinion of James Charles. Wear a jacket, and you have a heatstroke by noon; don’t wear one, and you’re guaranteed torrential rain. So, Craccum’s official advice is to literally never leave the house. Countdown delivers. Burger King is on Uber Eats. You can call your friends on FaceTime (or you can just not have any, it’s working out great for me). The concept of outside is obsolete. Embrace the future.
