My real name is Abby, so naturally this lead to a certain amount of “Dear Abby” jokes growing up. So, I figure, it’s about time I take a go at this advice column business. Got a problem? Ask away! I’ll answer all questions to the best of my abilities.*
*Disclaimer: this should not be taken to mean that I possess any actual advice-giving abilities. All askers should bear in mind that they are requesting advice from someone called The Weird One.
Dear Abby,
My neighbor ran over my dog yesterday. I’m pretty sure he did it on purpose, on account o’ the way I slashed his tires last week. It’s his own damn fault for stealing my garden gnome & re-painting him to be “anatomically correct”, y’see.
Anyway, I captured his cat. If I barbeque it up like I’m thinking, should I use a gas grill or charcoal?
Signed,
Fuedin’
Dear Fuedin’
Cats, as you are probably aware, have long been associated with witches and devil-worship. In addition, the little buggers love to tear up furniture and barf all over the house. Getting rid of it would probably only be doing your neighbor a favor. Instead, I recommend you talk to your local satan-worshippers about a basic demonic-possession spell for the cat. Then give it back to the neighbors and let it do all your havoc-wrecking for you.
Abby
Dear Abby,
Like, I was, you know, in the mall? Like, you know, with Tiffany and Brittney? Like, Tiffany and Brittney wanted to, you know, like, go and, you know, like, shoplift some stuff at the Gap? Like, I’m like, you know, rippin’ off the Gap, is so, you know, last year? Like, I thought, you know, like, we should go rip some stuff off from, like, Aeropostle, which, like, you know, I can’t really spell, but like, you know is the* place to, like, you know, shoplift this year? Like, Tiffany and Brittney go all, like, you know, we like, you know, stuff at, like the Gap? Like, I go like, you know, like the Gap is, like, you know, all like, you know last year? Like, me and Tiffany and Brittney, you know, like, get in this, like, you know, really big, like, you know, arguement? Like, you know, now, we aren’t speaking cause, like, you know, we’re like, you know, all mad and stuff? Like, you know, Dear Abby, like, you know, like, who’s right, you know? Like, would you have, you know, like, you know, just, like, gone along with your, like, you know friends and lifted like, you know stuff from like the, you know, soooooo last year place to like, you know, shoplift? Like, you know, everybody would’ve, like, you know, laughed at us, for, like, you know, being, like all last year and stuff, you know? Like, Dear Abby, you know, like, I really need, like, your, you know, advice on like, you know, what to do?
Hip Lifter
Dear Weird One:
I have a problem and I hope you can help. My brother’s sister-in-law (who I’ll call Mary because that’s her name) recently had twins, George and Edna. Cute little buggers but you just don’t know how weird it is to call a 6-month-old girl Edna until you actually have to. Well, my cousin Lester (my Uncle Henry’s boy) has been babysitting George while my nephew Walter has been watching Edna. Now the problem is that George doesn’t really like being apart from Edna but Lester and Walter don’t get along too well and whenever they get together one of 'em always ends up in the backseat of Sheriff Hardy’s station wagon which drives everyone crazy because Grandma Laney went to school with the Sheriff and knows her from way back. So we tried letting Walter watch George and Edna but he has a hard time keeping up with the both of them, probably due to his only having one leg and all. We then tried letting Lester watch them but Edna got into Bobby Sue’s purse and chewed up all of her Juicy Fruit - whoo wee…what a mess that was. It sure seemed like a waste to let all of that gum go, it only being partially chewed, so me and Grandma spent all afternoon picking the foil out that sticky mass. So now Mary is thinking about quitting her job at the Wild Mare Gentleman’s Lounge (she says her tips were way down since the C-section) and staying home with the kids and picking up some hours at the DQ. But this would mean that Junior would have to back to work at the landfill and he says he’s not going back until 1) they realize that he’s management material and 2) they apologize for accusing him of taking that mattress for Thelma’s (Grandma’s cousin Emma’s older girl) wedding present.
Please help Weird One. How can we convince Junior to go back to work at the landfill? Shopping at his weekly yard sale used to be the highlight of Grandma’s week.
Thanks,
Backwoods Bargain Hunter
Dear Hip Lifter,
I sympathize with your plight. It’s hard being a teenager. I recommend that you continue not talking to Tiffany or Brittney, and stop talking to the rest of us, until you can communicate like an intelligent human being. I also recommend you enroll in a scientific study at the new Mad Scientist College. They can implant a chip which will give you an electric shock at every extraneous use of the words “like” and “you know.” If this fails, I know a good surgeon who specializes in tongue removal.
The Weird One
Dear BBH,
Dear Og, you’re giving me flashbacks to visiting my Mother’s people when I was a young’un. I have a few suggestions:
-
Why not let the hound-dogs watch the tikes? Heck, it worked for Romulus and Remus! Grandma can keep an eye on things and make sure none of the dogs starts shaking the kids too bad, and hey, if the little ones start eating dog doo, at least they’ll have a good shot at appearing in a John Waters movie.
-
As far a Junior goes, tell him to get off his high horse. He sure ain’t gonna get a management job sitting on his ass all day long. Maybe he could help Mary work on her dance routine?
-
Tell Mary a little makeup should cover that scar just fine, and if she’s still not getting enough tips, she just needs to dress sluttier.
The Weird One
Does this look infected to you?
Dear Abby,
Got a problem. I’m a decent, underpaid, hardworking county coroner.
It’s important that my family eat meat at least three times a week, but we just can’t afford to with the prices the way they are, so I bring home some choice cuts from my autopsy subjects. Just mix in the tuna helper and ta-da!
The whole family thinks my new meals are delicious. They ask me what’s
my secret.
Abby, I think they’re getting suspicious. My smart-ass 8-year-old keeps
asking, where’s all the meat? The red dye #2 kind that’s kept in the fridge.
If they find out the truth I don’t think they’ll understand. Abby, what do I tell
my family?
10 cool points for the correct answer 
Dear Abby,
I never thought I’d be writing to a men’s magazine.
What? Oh, I’m sorry. Wrong thread.
Dear Abby,
Hi!Hi!Hello!Greetings!How are you?
I have a number of personalities of varying genders and ages and I want to know which one I should let run my life for me.Most of the time I am a young blonde American high school cheerleader named Victoria and that is the personality I like the most,but at weekends I am taken over by the spirit of a slave worker in ancient Egypt and if I were to let him go,then the building of the Pyramids may suffer.Then,I hear the voices from the docking craft where I am a military commander in the future in the Great Planetary War and the success of our mission depends on me maintaining this persona for long periods at a stretch.It’s so confusing cos sometimes the personalities try to take over from each other or fight…and then it all ends up as a squabble of voices.Then others come and go…last Christmas I ended with six and a half personalities-the half actually materialized during a pub quiz night,causing a great disturbance in the Sport round.
Who should I be?Which personality should I drop that would cause me the least damage?Please help us…we’re so confused…who am I?Help…help…the voices are calling me to accept another personality.I can’t take any more.I am five people already.I can’t be any more…
Deer Abby-
My name is Cletus .my wife rhonda and me got marryd last week, Las nite i got a big pimplle on my back… i askd rhonda to pop it and she says no. SHe sais she caint pop pimpls till we is not noolyweds anymor. i would axx my granma but shes in jale agin. how long will it bee berfor we is not noolywds any mor. Cletus.
Dear Abby,
There is…someone I think about all the time. She haunts my dreams, and my waking hours. She is the only person I think about.
Sometimes, I sit by the window on a rainy day, wiping my steak knife clean, staring off into the clouds, thinking of nothing but her.
How do I get her off my mind, Abby? I want to find her, and tell her about my feelings, about what I want to do to her, for her. I could make her very happy.
Every morning, when I open the newspaper, there she is, her lovely, lovely face, staring at me, inviting me to find her.
I will. I will find her. I have been paying close attention, doing research, and someday she will be mine.
She speaks to me. Every time I read her column in the newspaper, she speaks her words of love to me.
Please, Abby, how do I let this woman know that I am the one for her?
And how can I let her know that the one in the trunk was just a fling, nothing serious, nothing to compare to her.
Signed,
I will be waiting for your answer.
Quick note to the mods:
If that last post is too scary or offensive, please feel free to remove it from the thread.
I do have a rather demented sense of humor sometimes and don’t really mean any harm.
Dear Abby-
My husband of 20 years just told me that I am plain vanilla in bed and he wants moosetracks.
does this mean he wants to do it with animals or am I shopping at the wrong grocery store?
Signed,
Ethel Iphenegia McFudd.
Dear Abby-
My husband of 20 years just told me that I am plain vanilla in bed and he wants moosetracks.
does this mean he wants to do it with animals or am I shopping at the wrong grocery store?
Signed,
Ethel Iphenegia McFudd.
Oh goodie another stalker 
*Another * stalker??? :eek:
How many do you have?
Dear Abby-
I am so sorry for the double post. I abase myself.
ER
Dear Abby-
I have a tendency to repeat myself. (see above double post) What can be done about it?
ER
PS-did I mention that I have this short term memory problem so I keep repeating myself and double posting?
Dear Abby,
I was at a party about a year ago. Me and the guys were in the kitchen playing poker and a bunch of women were in the living room. We were all pretty drunk. I bet three of the guys $20 that I could produce more semen than they could. They took the bet and we masturbated into these little jars that we found. We measured an I won! However, we left the jars on the counter and went out to smoke. While we were gone, some of the women came in, saw the jars, and thought it would be funny to take a turkey baster and artifically inseminate themselves. Sure enough, three of them got pregnant, one with twins. Now the kids are three months old and the women are demanding compensation and help raising the child. The problem is, we have no idea who belongs to who. DNA tests may not be the best way to go because we may not like our biological child the best out of the bunch. Nobody wants the twins and I have my heart set on this scrapping boy.
Should we use a dice game or a card game to sort out the kids?