I feel poopy this week, so instead of covering you with my cooties, I've decided to reprint an advice column written by Suzanne Crough (a.k.a. Tracy Partridge, the youngest daughter from The Partridge Family), which I found in an old 1973 issue of Teeny Bopper. ENJOY!--Wm.™ Steven Humphrey

Hi there, Teeny Boppers! Tracy Partridge here, and welcome back to my column, "Ask Tracy." Being a kid is a real downer, isn't it? That's why I'm happy to use the expertise I've developed from my role on The Partridge Family to help solve your tough personal problems just like this one!

Dear Tracy: I'm in the fifth grade, and there's this boy who I really like, and he says he likes me, but he's really shy, and he won't kiss me! What should I do?--Anna B.

DEAR ANNA: Boys are fucked. Example: I was at this studio party at the Brown Derby, and everybody was high on grass, right? I was sharing this monster doobie with David Carradine from Kung Fu, when all of a sudden Tony from Tony DeFranco and the DeFranco Family walks up, and kisses me right on the lips! Now, I don't know this prick from Adam, right? So I slapped the shit out of him! Well, he just stood there in shock with his mouth dangling open like an ape, and I said, "Look, pencil dick. If you're gonna try to sneak a freebie from a girl, learn how to do it right." That's when I yanked him close, grabbed his ass, and rammed my tongue down his throat. I swear to Christ the baby almost burst into tears! Anyway, these are the '70s, honey, so if you want some smooches, then grab your man and let your tongue do the talking!

Dear Tracy: Every year on Valentine's Day our class hangs up decorated lunch bags on the wall, and we exchange cards. My problem is that I'm really unpopular, and I'm lucky if I get any valentines at all! What can I do to make the kids like me?--Connie J.

DEAR CONNIE: Look, kid. I don't know you, but it's a sure bet you have a stick up your ass. This Valentine's Day, instead of sending some stupid card that says, "Bee my Valentine!" or some other bullshit, just give away packs of cigarettes. If that doesn't convince the kids you're cool, nothing will. And if your teacher gives you any hassle, you give her the finger. I hate fucking teachers, man. They're always bringing me down.

Dear Tracy: I feel like a freak. I'm a girl in the seventh grade, and recently I've developed "feelings" for my English teacher. She's a woman, Tracy. I'm so confused, I don't know what to do! I try to ignore these feelings, but when I see her I melt! I need help desperately!--Hilary T.

DEAR HILARY: WHOA! You're in love with a fucking teacher? What are you thinking? She's the ENEMY, baby! I have this tutor who comes to the set, and if I didn't think I'd go to jail, I'd put an ax in her fucking skull. Anyway, my advice is to forget that old hag, and find some fresh girly meat your own age. Believe me, they are out there, and just waiting for someone like you to go down town. Get it on, Girl!