mommy dearest.

Dear Irby and Ian: My boyfriend flirts constantly with my mom. And when she gets up to walk out of a room his eyes blatantly follow her ass. My mom is an attractive woman and likes to act like she's 21, which is my boyfriend's age. He's a good guy but I just can't let this mom thing go. Is there anything I can do? What should I say to my boyfriend? Please help.

irby: i can't help but to devil's advocate this shit: ROCK ON HOT MAMA, with your sexy motherfucking ass. shouldn't we as women all hope that twenty years after some mewling ball of rage wreaks havoc upon every single one of our internal organs before clawing its way down our birth canals and ripping our grossly stretched-out and disfigured vaginas to shreds we still look hot enough to pull that ungrateful little slut's virile young boyfriend? isn't that the american goddamned dream, to look good enough in your senior citizenship to bang hot young dudes? maybe i'm a dirtbag, but in my youth i want to bang old dudes and when i get old i want to push my walker up to the side of a bed that still has transformers sheets on it.

seriously, dude, it's the only reason i use night cream. so that one day when whatever man i can trick, humiliate, threaten, and cajole into marrying me in the next few years finally summons the courage to ditch me and my nineteen cats in the house from which i have forbidden his exit, after i've exhaustively searched the moat i had installed specifically to deter him from attempting an escape, i'm going to call off the bloodhounds and take my vagina out to find a young paramour to fuck the pain away. no better replacement for the pair of wrinkled, ankle-grazing testicles than a set of hot young ones as tight and springy as a rubber band. tricking a young dude into helping me peel off my girdle and compression socks is the only reason i would ever consider taking a needle to the face. clothing is miraculous, and by the time i'm fifty there should be all sorts of weight-loss shirts and age-minimizing pants on the market. and i will use those tools of deception to lure the unsuspecting friends of my children into my gingerbread house. candy and cookies are so 1893.

this is why i have to stay au courant with modern technology and the cultural zeitgeist, because nothing screams OLD ASS BITCH like having a flip phone and calling shit "the bomb." i read the shit young people read and listen to the shit young people listen to, then i adapt it for a life that involves orthopedic shoe inserts and frequent visits to the fucking pharmacy. "why yes, i am wearing jones new york. but i'm listening to kid cudi, so i'm still cool, right?!" because a fresh-scrubbed post-teen won't notice the lack of youthful elasticity in my vagina if i'm listening to drake on my latest-generation ipod, will he? OF COURSE HE WON'T. especially if i buy him one, too. i'm not planning on becoming pregnant anytime soon, but i will go halfsies on an adopt-a-baby if any of my lesbian friends is into that. i don't even need it to stay at my house, i just want to buy it gifts and take it out for pizza once a week, then on its eigteenth birthday start banging all the milk-fed testosterone beasts on its basketball team.

your boyfriend deserves a medal, dollface. you know i'm a champion of the unconventionally attractive, and it warms my heart that the barely legal ox who takes you to olive garden and the mall on date night finds your lonely, saddlebagged mother sexy enough to eye-fuck. as much as i am a fan of an old broad helping some young tenderoni find his way around a poise pad, that "acting like she's 21" bit is a total fucking turnoff. old people are only sexy when they embrace being old. i'm not talking about a syringe full of restylane or a spanx stretched from her toes to her clavicle; that kind of shit is necessary maintenance. i'm talking short skirts and high heels and trying to get into clubs with a drivers license that pre-dates color television. the best part of aging is getting to do OLD SHIT: complaining all the time, eating soup for every meal, wearing pants with comfortable waistbands out to the movies. i'm not with this old bitch at the club shit. you need to be sitting your ass down somewhere organzing all 142 coupons for polident that you clipped from the walgreens circular this week. should you be doing that while looking over the top of your reading glasses at a dude so young he might not even need deodorant yet? yes, you should. and that's what the internet is for.

HOLD UP. are you one of these jerks whose mother had to leave school during nap time so she could go deliver birth to a human child?! because if your manfriend is 21 and your momfriend is, like, 34 then i would just concede the victory to her and never introduce your boyfriends to that trollop ever again. i have some, ahem, sexually advanced friends with children old enough to borrow the car and shit, and it's sort of gross to watch them raiding each other's closets and sharing tampons. my own mother had been in menopause for so long by the time i began menstruating that i had to put a clean kitchen towel in my underwear the first time i got my period because that bitch didn't have any pads in the linen closet. so if you have that kind of mom, the kind of mom who wears sensible LL bean turtlenecks and doctor scholls taupe-colored shoes and keeps her glasses on a chain around her neck, and that toddler you sext at all hours of the night wants to holler? YOU SHOULD TOTALLY FUCKING LET HIM.


isn't this the holiday season? what have you given your mother lately other than a hard goddamned time?! she didn't want that last-minute freesia body wash set you picked up next to the christmas m&ms while you were buying condoms at cvs, nor did she think your "gift certificate" for "one week of dishwashing" was the least bit amusing. just like that failure of a macaroni necklace you made for her as a child, she smiled because that's what the fuck you're supposed to do. why not do that bitch a solid and let her get her oil changed and her brakes pumped by your homeboy? listen, this isn't your future husband and you know it. you're seriously considering a future with the type of dude you can't leave alone with your mother for five minutes? that's what i thought. so let her have him, and take up with another dude in your english 101 class. isn't that the beauty of community college?

meanwhile, i'll be over here slaughtering virgins and drinking their blood to keep my skin tight. you don't look this good at 927 years old without making a few, um, sacrifices.