NY Mag has a new back-of-the-book feature called "the Help Desk" that is, I suppose, the NY Mag version of "Dear Abby." Readers submit (usually vapid) questions and someone at the magazine (unbylined) provides (usually vapid) answers. I've decided to provide additional vapid answers for my own amusement. And I'm leaving the comments open so you, too, can contribute. Or write cryptic little "I miss you, bunny" messages as some of you have been doing.

Dear Help Desk:
Help! I m dating a handsome, wealthy, borderline-celebrity baker who drives an Aston Martin and happens to be a member of Soho House. The only problem is that now I m constantly surrounded by baked goods, and I m worried that I ll turn into an enormous muffin myself. I ve heard him say some harsh things about girls at the pool who were less than trim. How can I keep dating him without ballooning?
SWEET AND LOWDOWN, GRAMERCY

Dear Sweet and Lowdown,
First of all, bankers are only celebrities in their own minds. They only become famous as they're being led to waiting black cars in handcuffs.

Oh, wait. You said baker. Not banker. My mistake.

I may have just lost all interest in the question.

Muffins. Right. Well, you could do what most of us do when faced with fattening foods: don't fucking eat them.

Hope that helps.