Anyone who can find a solution for a quadrapalegic husband cheating on his wife with her bi-curious step brother can surely solve the Lebanese problem so here's my plea to Dear Abby:
I'm deeply in love with this parcel of land. Let's call it "Lubna N."Its Beautiful coastline is the first thing that faces you. Then you see Perky mountains, A Flat Valley, and a Voluptuous hump at its end. Well we're not sure where it ends, because the borders were drawn up by a drunk Brit(pardon the redundancy) and a frog on a wine stained napkin long before Google earth existed.
It's an unrequited love. I give give give and never see anything in return except for the feeling of having a place to call home. I have to deal with a permanent state of P.M.S. You might say I'm a masochist, but Dear Abby understand that I do get tremendous pleasure out of seeing "Lubna N." smile even if it's a half ass smile once a decade.
How can I treat "Lubna N."'s fiery hormonal imbalance? I really don't want to leave "Lubna N." again. Help me Dear Abby.
Pussywhipped in a Raging Volcano
P.S. I'll keep you posted if Dear Abby replies.
P.P.S. I will have a guest Advice Expert on my blog, submit your questions to YO JIMBO here, or by email. YO JIMBO's fields of expertise are everything except cooking, but if you insist on culinary advice he'll gladly fake it.