This time I’m going to do things a little different. I’ve got my morning glass of vodka and half a bar of Xanax rushing through my veins, but I’m just lacking my usual patience. All those writing into me already have the solutions inside of themselves; there’s not much more I can do for them.

Dear Miss Gabby,

I am a cisgender person who has trans friends. I only mess up with their pronouns like, once a week, or something. Why does my friend get upset and why can’t they be nicer to me? I’m trying. Don’t they realize how hard it is on me? I used to have a friend known as Cody and now he has some chick’s name, and it’s really just upsetting. I’m trying. I’m not like those other transphobes. Why can’t he be nicer to me?

–Perplexed in Punxsutawney.

Dear Girl-who-used-to-called-Cody,

Your friend is a dick. Nothing I say is likely to get through his head, at least as effectively as you punching him in the balls when he misgenders you again. Punch hard for Aunt Gabby.

Dear Miss Gabby,

Listen, I am not sure what’s going on but I have been cancelled. Who can I reach to get out of this? Do you know who is in charge of this cancelling thing? I know I’m not exactly politically correct, but it’s not like I am a real fascist or something. I know Nazis were bad, but maybe we need to hear about their ideas for the sake of freedom of speech?

–Censored in Cincinnati

Dear people of Cincinnati,

This guy kind of sounds like a Nazi. Good job; keep it up.

Dear Miss Gabby,

A little background information: my best friend is a straight guy, at least he says so. But he keeps flirting with me constantly and I don’t know how to turn him down gently. I mean, yes, I am gay, too. How can I tell him to knock it off because honestly he’s actually an asshole. I don’t even like being around him.

I think I might have answered my own question there. Super sorry, there.

–Epiphanies in  Sault Ste. Marie

Dear “Straight guy”,

Look, you either want my reader or you don’t, I’m not sure if I can resolve that issue for you. All I can recommend is some deep introspection and maybe some light getting kicked in the nuts. I’ll write you a prescription. Now, refill momma’s glass before I start telling my readers to strip naked in the ocean.