Hola amigos, it’s your pal Frosty Mugg!

That’s right, Muggheads! Ol’ Frosty has HIJACKED the Dear Juan train!

What? It’s not MY fault he left his email up and unattended!

Here’s the deal Muggheads. AJ’s been complaining that all I do around here is drink his beer and write about that one time I went sober for a whole year. I told AJ that all he does around here is complain that all I do around here is drink his beer and write about that one time I went sober for a whole year, but he wasn’t hearing any of that! AJ says I need to contribute more content or I’m out. I don’t want to go back to working for the Worthington family, my friend Alex says those guys (and gals!!) are evil!

When Juan left his email open and unattended, I got the best idea ever!

Sure, Juan gives great advice, but your pal Frosty can do it better! And I can do it in proper crystal-clear good old American English, just like God intended! Look out Juan, that wall is about to get ten feet higher! Juan answers only one measly little question, but because I love you guys (and gals!!) so much I’m going to answer THREE questions!


Our first question comes from a lady who took her car to the mechanic and thinks she got ripped off!

Dear Juan,

Last week when I was driving home from work, my steering wheel started vibrating. I noticed that it only happened on the highway when I was going fast. When I drove it through town it didn’t vibrate. My husband isn’t a car guy, so I had to take it to the mechanic.

The mechanic told me that it was a bad rear strut. He replaced it for me and charged me $2,000. I wasn’t happy about it, but I was just glad the car was fixed.

Or so I thought!

When I drove in to work the next day my steering wheel was still vibrating. I was furious, Juan! I left work early and went right back to that mechanic and asked him why the hell my car wasn’t fixed after I just paid him $2,000 to fix it. He started to hem and haw and say it might be something else causing the problem, and he’d be willing to work me in that day to look at it. Against my better judgement I agreed, with the stipulation that he doesn’t charge me any further.

The next day, the mechanic called to tell me the car was fixed, and I could come pick it up. So after Ubering down to the place, I get there and the mechanic tells me it was my tire causing the problem! Apparently I had a huge bump on my tire that caused the steering wheel to vibrate when driving at high speeds. I asked why he charged me $2,000 for new struts when all I needed was a new tire. The asshole just shrugged at me!

What should I do here? I don’t think it’s right that I paid all this money for a new tire. Can I sue him? What do you think Juan?

– Andrea D.


Dear Andrea: MY NAME ISN’T JUAN! Can’t you read the title? It says “Dear FROSTY”!

I don’t know a damn thing about cars! I’m not even allowed to drive one! The last time I got behind the wheel people got all upset and I was stopped by police and arrested for “driving erratically”. I say that if you don’t like the way I drive then stay off the sidewalk!

I’m not a lawyer. I don’t even play one on TV! I think I watched a few episodes of Law and Order before though. But that has nothing to do with anything. This isn’t “Dear Frosty, Esquire”. Why are you asking ME if you can sue your mechanic? I have no freaking clue about the legal system! I don’t even know how I’m not in jail for half the stuff I do!

If you’re really unsure about suing your mechanic, I suggest you have a few beers first and think it over. Then if you still want to, go talk to a lawyer and not some guy on the internet!


Next up, we’ve got a cantankerous codger complaining about cat crap.

Dear Juan,

I’m a 74 year old man who lives with his daughter and granddaughter.

Recently, they adopted a cat from the animal shelter. My granddaughter was thrilled, and seeing her come home excited with her new kitten made me so happy. It was the most god-damned adorable thing I’ve ever seen, Juan!

What wasn’t adorable was the first time I stepped in cat shit. Or the second time. Or the third time. Or the hundreds of times after that. This fucking furball does nothing but shit all the live long day! I told my daughter about it, and she keeps promising to train the thing to use a litter box, but she’s never home to do it because when she’s not at work she’s out galavanting about at the bar with her friends while I’m stuck at home watching my granddaughter and stepping in cat shit.

What should I do, Juan? I’m not one for animal abuse, but “accidently” letting the cat get outside and run into the road is starting to look like a really good idea. If I step in one more pile of cat shit I’m going to lose my own shit!

– Phillip F.


STOP CALLING ME JUAN!! My name is Frosty! FROSTY! If you want to talk to Juan, email Juan, not me! Juan’s email address is “[email protected]“. If you want to talk to him, there ya go!

But you know what? Chicken butt!

You know what else? I’m not going to answer your stupid question! I hate cats! They’re fat, lazy, and they eat all your lasagna. Why are you asking ME what to do about your cat pooping all over the floor? What the hell am I supposed to do about it? I don’t live with you!

You really want my advice? Throw a diaper on the furry little turd machine and go have a few beers. That’s what Frosty would do!

When in doubt, readers, just ask yourself “What Would Frosty Do?” (or “WWFD” for short). The answer is always beer. Now go have a beer, you’ve earned it!


Finally, we reach the finale! And good thing too, I’m almost out of beer! How does Juan do this all the time?

This person can’t get his roommate to stop leaving cans all over their apartment. Or can he? Let’s see if we can help him kick this problem in the can!

Dear Juan Frosty,

I rent a small apartment with my friend. He pays his share of the rent and bills, but he has a drinking problem. I wouldn’t care so much but he leaves his empty beer cans laying all over the apartment and won’t clean them up. I tried asking nicely and he said he would, but he never does and it’s starting to piss me off. It stinks and now it’s attracting little flies. How do I get through to this knucklehead and get him to clean up his empty beer cans?

– Dom H.


Hey Dom, you know who you sound like? AJ!

AJ’s always yelling at me, telling me to clean up my cans and bottles. I’m tired of hearing it! It’s always the same thing. “Frosty, clean this up!” “Frosty, the property owner is complaining about all the empties in the hallway. Clean them up.” No Marc, YOU clean them up! It’s not MY hallway, it’s YOURS! That’s why AJ pays you for office space, isn’t it?

You have a problem with the empty beer cans, Dommy boy? Then YOU clean them up! “Oh boo hoo, there’s flies! Boo hoo, it smells bad! Boo hoo, I have to pick up a few cans!” Get over yourself Dom. And get off of your roommate’s case!

And speaking of cases, I’m out of beer. I’m going to go get another case.


This advice thing sucks! You can keep it, Juan!


Do you have a problem and need some help? Don’t email Frosty, that’s for sure! You can email Señor Juan instead at [email protected], or leave him a comment on any of his articles.

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By Frosty Mugg

Frosty is a reckless idiot, a dirty lech, and a drunk bastard. When he’s not sitting on a bar stool pounding down one beer after another, he’s usually making poor decisions during moments of drunken impulsiveness. Due to an incident involving a college girl, Buddhist monks, and a trip across Eastern Europe, the Middle East, and Asia, Frosty is legally required to be intoxicated at all times. He resides in the city of Philadelphia, and is very much single, ladies.