Answering Cocktail's Mailbag Questions

Full disclosure: Despite my frequent letters and phone calls, VH1 has apparently declined to pay me a modest sum each time I write something like, "Brooke Knows Best 2 is redefining comedy as we know it" or "It's official! Terrell Owens is the most likable character on TV!" So you can rest assured that I genuinely mean it when I say that I absolutely, positively cannot wait for the November 2nd premiere of season two of For the Love of Ray J.

I'm pretty sure that no one other than I watched season one, but it was spectacularly entertaining. Evidently, when you take one supposed R&B "star" whose biggest hit was a sex tape with Kim Kardashian, and you put him in a house to let him choose between twelve loopy, money-grubbing skanks, hilarity ensues.

Don't believe me? Allow me to sum up the entire series with a brief recap of one memorable scene (because, obviously, there's nothing more fun than listening to someone else tell you what happened on their favorite TV shows): After a stressful day, Ray J takes the remaining five girls (I think there were five... I could be wrong, though) out to a nice dinner at a classy French restaurant. After saying a few kind words to each, he gets the attention of the waiter and yells, "Monsieur! Six pineapple kamikazes, please!"

Maybe you had to be there. Either way, that scene immediately took its place on my Mount Rushmore of greatest scenes in recent television history. So, even though VH1 isn't paying me to say this, watch season two of For the Love of Ray J on November 2nd. Trust me, it'll be awesome.

For the record, the other three scenes on my Mount Rushmore go something like this:

2) Friday Night Lights (Season one, episode two): Coach Eric Taylor takes Matt Saracen out to the stadium the night before the QB's first start to prep him for the game.

3) Mad Men (Season one, episode thirteen): Don Draper pitches the Carousel campaign to Kodak.

4) The Sopranos (Season three, episode thirteen): At the reception following Jackie Aprile's funeral, Uncle Junior sings "Core 'Ngrato" as the entire family watches on.

The winner of season one of For the Love of Ray J was a girl by the name of Cocktail (pictured above), who embodied many of the traits one looks for in great reality TV stars. Cold, cunning, manipulative and comfortable appearing virtually naked in front of a camera, Cocktail captured Ray J's heart for nearly two months after filming before they announced that they had gone their separate ways.

Like any dedicated fan, though, I still occasionally check in on the Twitter updates of Cocktail (aka Joanna Hernandez). And, just a few short hours ago, I was thrilled to see Miss Cocktail mention that she has a new website, on which she has photos, her favorite music videos and a blog on which -- thank you, comedy gods -- she occasionally dispenses relationship advice.

Problem is, as much as I thought Cocktail was a fantastic reality TV character, I'm not so sure that she should be giving advice to anyone. Christ, she went on TV to try to hook up with a celebrity and then claimed to have fallen in love with him. Let's just say that she might not be the most well-adjusted individual on the planet, and she should probably leave the advice to people who actually know something about relationships.

Like me.

So, allow me to present some actual questions from Cocktail's actual blog. And watch in awe as I provide better advice than she could ever dream of giving. Here goes...

Tiffany asks: I am married and my husband is a sweet guy but I am still in love with my ex.

First of all, Tiffany, that's not a question. A question is one of those sentences that begin with a word like "why," "when," "who," "how" or "what" and ends with one of those question mark thingies, honey. For instance, "Why does it burn when I pee?" That there is a question. The answer to which is, of course, chlyamydia... stupid, pesky chlyamydia...

That said, the answer to your pseudo-question is simple: Leave him. Because you're a flaky idiot and you're gonna end up screwing him over eventually. So all you need to do is say to him, "I'm sorry, but I'm in love with someone else and I want to get a divorce." And that's that. Spare him the trouble of dealing with you and let him find someone else who isn't quite as self-absorbed as you.

Here, though, is what I predict you're gonna do: Not tell your husband anything. Let him continue to buy you meals and pay the bills. Secretly become friends with your ex on Facebook (if you haven't already). Chat with him now and then. Playfully flirt. Eventually agree to meet your ex for coffee after playing coy and saying things like, "Gee, I don't know if that's such a good idea." Laugh coquetteishly at your ex's jokes and let your hand innocently brush against his arm a few times. Kiss him on the cheek as you part ways beside your Toyota Camry. Feel mildly guilty for three days, but gradually get over it. On the fourth day, without telling your husband, stop by the ex's house so that you can borrow a DVD he says you'd really like (That DVD? Office Space, which you tell him you've never seen even though you actually own it as well...). At his suggestion, sit on his sofa and have a glass of wine. Then another. Talk just long enough so that you can later tell your disapproving female friends, "You know, it just sort of happened" without feeling like a slut. After a bit of making out, have sex in his bedroom, the walls of which are covered in Nascar flags and pro wrestling posters. Go home to your husband (forgetting the Office Space DVD in the process). Continue to rendezvous with your ex two or three times a week for months as you quietly relish the attention you're getting from two men simultaneously. Allow your husband to gradually get suspicious, until he eventually follows you one afternoon as you drive over to your ex's house to bang him. At this point, many people wouldn't fault your husband if he were to shoot both you and your ex, but he won't... because he's "sweet." Instead, he'll simply kick you out and subsequently divorce you. And, after a brief mourning period, he'll realize that you weren't particularly good after all. You know why? Because the stink of your infidelity will be all over him, and it'll act as a pheromone with almost every woman he encounters. And, eventually, after enough mornings spent waking up next to women whose names he only faintly recalls, he'll realize he no longer misses you. He'll stop remembering the good times he had with you, and instead only remember the times you drove him completely insane. And, at that point, like a butterfly clawing out of its cocoon and taking flight, he'll have officially been reborn a stronger person. Strangely, at that very moment in time, you'll be sitting on a ratty futon with your ex while he eats Ritz crackers in his underwear and watches tapes of his favorite episodes of The World's Craziest Police Chases on his 13" TV/VCR combo.

And, if you should string along your husband instead of simply coming clean, that's exactly what you deserve.

Next question...

Selyna writes: I am a 17 year old single mother and my self-asteem is low and I feel like I have stopped living my life. My friends say I should refresh myself and pick it up.. are they right? Or should I just be a mom?

Yeah, Selyna (is that spelled correctly? Because I don't feel like it is...), you definitely wanna listen to those brilliant friends of yours. Chances are, they know what's best for you and, besides, the key to raising an emotionally-healthy toddler is to let it have some room to breathe. Trust me, no baby wants to be constantly-pampered by its mother. Let the little scamp have some "me time" now and then. On Friday nights, for instance. Ask your single mother (I know you didn't specifically say that your parents were divorced when you were ten, but let's be honest here: pregnant + seventeen years old = broken home and severe father issues) if she can watch your kid so that you can dress up, hang out with your pals, get drunk on Mike's Hard Lemonade and let the middle linebacker of your high school's football team finger you in a dimly-lit parking lot. That is what you mean by "refresh myself and pick it up," right?

Honestly, honey, you're kind of a retard. Obviously, having a kid at the age of seventeen might've been a slightly questionable choice, and I'm sure you realize that now, no matter how cute the little bastard might be when he/she isn't screaming at the top of his/her lungs at three in the morning.

Now, unless you want your kid to grow up to be just as much of a retard as you, the cycle must be broken. Pay attention to the kid. Lots of attention. Otherwise, your kid's doomed. If it's a girl, she'll grow up to be a drunken idiot who jumps from failed relationship to failed relationship before finally settling into a seedy rut of blowing random guys in the bathrooms of dive bars and interstate truck stops. And even worse, if it's a boy, he'll grow up to be a drunken idiot who jumps from failed relationship to failed relationship before finally settling into a seedy rut of blowing random guys in the bathrooms of dive bars and interstate truck stops.

Your life is over for the next eighteen years. Deal with it, and focus on raising the kid.

And that, Miss Joanna Hernandez (aka Cocktail of VH1's For the Love of Ray J) is how you dole out advice.

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