By JUDITH H. BERNSTEIN
Blast New York Bureau

Oy! Such weather we're having lately! New York's springtime was pretty much washed away in constant rain, and now it's so hot, you can't even think of eating the brisket I slaved over all day in the kitchen. Meanwhile, tropical islands are being swept away by tidal waves, cruise ships are ablaze and half of Florida burnt to a crisp. It's total gehennim!

Gehennim seems to be the watchword nowadays. We're waiting for the new millennium to start without knowing whether anything will work after the clocks chime an even dozen on Dec. 31, 1999.

And speaking of gehennim, we've got plenty of it from JMNY's readers this go- round!

Dear JMNY:
I was sitting here at work and worrying because I have many things to accomplish today before I leave. Next thing I know, I look at my arm and see a rash spontaneously developing. Even better, I have one huge zit on my face. If I colored it in with eyeliner, it would look like Madonna's mole. What do you think, Jewish Mom?
Signed,
Working Hard for Bupkis

Dear Bupkis: Well, dear, I think you're halfway toward a solution for this problem, and you got there all by yourself. Get the Max Factor out and cover up that blemish just like Madonna would (What! You thought she actually had a mole?).

"As for the rash, take another clue from the Golden Shiksa and tell everybody that you've invested in some henna body art, just like the Material Girl!"

As for the rash, take another clue from the Golden Shiksa and tell everybody that you've invested in some henna body art, just like the Material Girl!

Think how trendy and hip folks will think you are when you tell them, "That's no rash, that's mehndi!?

Dear JMNY:
I don't know what to do, but I'm ready to leave my husband. You know how hot the real estate market is here in New York, right? Well, every time we see an apartment we like, Joe insists he needs time to think about it. By the time he's pondered, puttered and come to a decision, the apartment has invariably been snapped up by someone else. Normally I wouldn't say this is a big problem, but Joe said we can't have a child until we find a larger place to live. He says he's ready to have a baby and to move. But I'm not getting any younger, if you know what I mean.
Signed,
Ticking

Dear Ready to Explode:
I don't have to be a psychiatrist or a fancy professor with letters after my name to figure this one out, honey. Sit down and have a long talk with Joe and let him know how important this is to you. If that doesn't speed up his decision-making process, you may want to follow my cousin Abby's advice and seek professional help before YOU invest any more time in this relationship.

Dear JMNY:
I was late for work, and the subway car I was on was so jammed the conductor couldn't close the doors. He kept announcing over the PA that people should stop and let go of the doors, but a huge meathead kept trying to shove his way into the car I was in and wouldn't let the doors close so the train could move. In between him and me was a timid-looking man, maybe in his 40s, and only about 5 foot 4. The jerk kept pushing and pushing, and the smaller man was begging him to stop, pointing out that the car was packed and he had nowhere to move.

"A huge meathead kept trying to shove his way into the car I was in and wouldn't let the doors close so the train could move."

The lunkhead kept shoving and started cursing the smaller guy. I don't know why this happened, but I just lost it! I grabbed the butthead by the throat and pushed back with all my power. We both fell onto the subway platform, rolling, screaming, my hands gripping tighter around his neck. A couple of transit cops took one look at me and the meathead and let me get on the next train.

My problem, Jewish Mother, is that I don't really have a problem with this. I feel really great that I took care of this idiot, who was picking on a much smaller guy and delaying hundreds of us who were trying to get to work. My friends say I'm crazy and my mom, who lives on Long Island, says she's scared for me. What do you think?
Signed,
Rough Rider

Dear Rough:
I think you must be very young. Young people often feel immortal, so your afterglow is no surprise. I suggest you buy lots of lottery tickets while your luck holds.