Dearest Elfie...

Less than a few hours into my new gig at After Therapy, I get this bullshit in my inbox:

In my worldwide search for the perfect husband, I have come up empty. Please help!

Signed,

Hopeless romantic

Dear Hopeless in Hell's Kitchen,

Let Elfie break it down for you - old school. First of all, if you got enough scratch to be going around the world looking for dick, Elfie has some news for you: You are already better off than the rest of us. We've been going around town looking for a 4" grinder attachment to some Craftsman tool that our father-in-law "needs" for Christmas. At $2.69 a gallon, this is already not worth the effort. But "WORLDWIDE"? Child, you are committed if nothing else.

And apparently richer than a whore with two vaginae. Kwitcherbitchin'.

Second, you're looking for the "perfect husband"? Girl, please. The perfect husband is what we call a "late" husband who had a healthy estate and left it all to us. You do not need to search the world over for that kind of husband. You just have to be nice to old men. And by "nice" we mean "putting out". If you don't have scarring mental images of the things you've done for a spot in the Last Will and Testament, you're not really working very hard at it. Put elsewise, as our editor would say, if you're looking for a LIVING perfect husband, you are looking amiss.

Come up empty? EMPTY? You went around the world and consider that you came up empty? Honey, if Elfie can get a man to lick her around the world, she feels fulfilled. You need to lower your standards. A man of your means needs to stay a little closer to home, shop at a different store, and learn to be happy with what life sends your way. If all that money is bringin' you down, you can send it to Elfie c/o After Therapy, Inc. I have sent you the full address in a private e-mail.

Best of luck on your worldwide travels, but while you're in Rome next time, try spending less time man-hunting and more time shopping. You may have found some imperfect men, but there is no such thing as the imperfect cashmere sweater.

We simply need to recognize perfection where we find it.

Air Kisses,

Elfie