Dear Cosmodailytan,
Hi, my name is Spritney Bears, and, like, oops, I did it again — I slept with like five different guys last week. My hair engineer thinks I do it in a desperate attempt to gain attention from men — as a result of low self-esteem. ‘Cause, like, none of the guys call me afterwards, I feel like they view me as an object. Why do guys always use me and never take me seriously?
Help please.
— Slutty Spritney in Louisiana
Dear Slutty,
Five guys in one week? And you didn’t get a diamond pendant from Zales or a Playstation II out of the deal? I am shocked. Doesn’t “tit for tat” mean anything to you? Low self-esteem is only part of your problem, babe. Life is about more than exposing your greased-down boobs for higher record sales and spanking your male followers on the side. You’re treated like a piece because all you’re after is a piece. Keep your knees together for at least dinner and a movie and get to know these guys before chaining them to your bed stand! Then they might treat you differently.

Dear Cosmodailytan,
I adore Britney Spears. My room is a shrine of Spears posters, I buy every CD, and always take my Britney doll with me when I go to the mall. I wear my hair like hers, I copy her makeup and now I’m considering plastic surgery to resemble her even more.
Besides the best of the best singers and besides her radiant beauty, she’s so sincere and I know we would be the best of friends, if only she could read one of my fan letters and actually get to know me. I send her a letter at least every week — I know it’s her press agents trying to keep me down. They sense what potential soul mates we would be, and they purposefully keep us apart. I once tried throwing myself on stage at one of her concerts, but her bodyguards grabbed me before I made it. She looked really scared, but I know it’s just because I wasn’t there to comfort her and assure her that I didn’t want to hurt her – I want to protect her! That’s why I had the gun – that’s why! No one believes me! Britney!! You believe me, don’t you? You believe me …??
— Bonkers for Britney
Dear Bonkers,
Ooookay. I had to cut your letter short because of lack of space, but after reading its entirety, I was a little disturbed at your level of love for Britney. I asked psychologist/astrologist Joe Stropolavasashachkovosky for his opinion. After arranging birds’ intestines and meditating, he felt a tremor in the Force that told him you are suffering from an inferiority complex and the only way you could make yourself feel better is to attach yourself to a celebrity.
My advice: Since Britney really pumps up on personal security, I’d suggest Christina Aguilera. I’ve heard she tries to maintain normal person status so you’d definitely have a better chance with her.
Don’t try to improve your ego or anything. Joe told me your low self-esteem is justified, and that stupidity is forever. Cheers!

Dear Cosmodailytan,
My best friend and I have been B/F/F’s since we were in grade school, but now in high school, things are starting to fall apart. I don’t understand why she is so competitive. She compares our grades, but I’m smarter so she whines. Then I beat her on the tennis court, and she’s spreading rumors about me. To make matters worse, we’re running against each other in our town’s beauty pageant. She swears that if I win she’ll find a new best friend. I know I’ll win the pageant because I’ve got great hair. But should I blow it off to salvage our friendship?
— Friendly in Fargo
Dear Friendly,
Kick her to the curb. That “Best Friends Forever” line is crap. A friend doesn’t go dissing you behind your back, and a friend shouldn’t let your book smarts or good hair get in the way of your relationship. I’d duck out of the pageant though. You’d be better off giving yourself a wedgie than taking part in some God-awful beauty pageant. If you’re going to dress and act like a hooker, you might as well know you’re getting paid for it ahead of time.

Dear Cosmodailytan,
I’m condemned to a life of shame. I barely wear a B-cup bra, while my hips and butt are at least 42 inches. I tried going to a plastic surgeon to add more to my top half, but I think something went wrong because one breast was at least three inches higher than the other and both felt like cement rocks. I finally had my implants removed, and now I have to tape back my unused skin before I stuff my bra with four pairs of socks.
Honestly, you don’t know how hard my life is. I feel so inadequate and isolate myself as much as possible. I barely come out of my room and when I do, I only wear super-baggy sweaters and pants. No guys ever look at me! HELP!
— All A ‘n’ no T
Dear All A ‘n’ no T,
Wow … you’re right. Your life is a desperate void of nothingness (especially up top). My only suggestion is to write to me again, requesting my new book, “What Doctor Never Told You: Secret Tips for Plastic Surgery and Liposuction at Home,” for only $24.99, payable by check, money order or major credit card. The best part about my book is that anyone can do it — most procedures require only common household items, such as double-sided tape, turkey basters, vacuum hoses, rubber bands, and staple guns. They work absolute magic!
Until then, make sure that when you do venture outside of your room, you wrap your head in a muffler. If you’re truly all A and no T, I’d have to imagine you also sport at least two chins and a pair of jowls.

Dear Cosmodailytan,
My boyfriend and I have just started having sex. I was a virgin but he wasn’t. I am on the dance team with his ex-girlfriend and she has these nasty red bumps on her inner thigh. Sould I be worried?
— Scared
Dear Scared,
Definitely worry. Worry a lot. Worry enough to go to the doctor and get down there checked out. Get your annual female check-up done along with the STD tests, and figure out birth control while you’re at it. Here’s some advice for you in the future: The condom doesn’t stop everything, sweetie, as you’ve learned the hard way. BAD PUN! But you should go to the doc and make your partner get tested for STDs himself before you sleep with him again.

Dear Cosmodailytan,
I have a huge problem. I am 15 years old and I have the smallest boobs out of anyone in my grade. All the kids at school tease me. They tell me I’m “flat” and they call my boobs “mosquito bites.” One day I decided to stuff my bra with Kleenex, but it didn’t work, everyone knew they were fake. I asked my parents if I could get a boob job, and they said no. I will die if I don’t grow boobs soon. How can I convince them I need it?
— Desperately AAA
Dear Desperately,
Hunger is a huge problem. Homelessness is a huge problem. Uncle Roger molesting his little niece Louise, another huge problem. But dealing with small boobs? Not a huge problem in my book. At only 15, who knows, maybe you’ll end up with Pamela Anderson breasts before you reach adulthood. And if not, life is too short to worry about it. Big boobs give you back problems anyhow. Kids that bug you about it probably aren’t worth your time. Give them the one-fingered salute and move on.