I like this boy. I don’t know if he likes me or not. I write him long love letters and call his house and then hang up. Sometimes I cut his picture up and send it to him in a Tupperware bowl filled with my urine. Last night I spelled his name on his lawn with lighter fluid and set it aflame. It was beautiful!
Do you think he likes me too? Tomorrow, should I have his name sky-written in black exhaust with a skull next to it, or should I send him my favorite lucky white cotton Hanes Her Way undies from fifth grade soaked in pig’s blood and adorned with fragments of human bone?
More importantly, should I use blue or pink Tupperware when I send him the next “sample,” this time mixed with old dog poop?
Yours Truly,
Looking for Love in All the Wrong Places
Monster104:
You should continue to ask the advice of the advice guy as frequently as possible. You should let him answer questions about every nuance of your life. It’s a sure-fire way to endear yourself to said advice guy.
A good way to hone your skills is to simply start giving your advice to everyone. People appreciate it deep down when you tell them how they should be living their lives without their asking. Even if they don’t come out and say so.
I also advise that you quit your current job. There’s plenty of money to be made as an advice-giver, and no better time to start than the present!
Milo,
The other night I got really drunk and accidentally ate a poodle. I could live with this minor social faux pas, except that it was really quite tasty - better than Red Lobster! Now I’m interested to see what other breeds taste like. Any recommendations?
I’m getting severe chest pains from laughing incredibly hard while reading your column. Problem is, it’s not all that funny. Im thinking of looking down the barel of a Spud gun and pulling the trigger again. Seeing as it didn’t kill me the last time, it obviously won’t this time either right? Is this the best solution to my chest pains?
I’m laying in a puddle on the floor. The room is spinning. Purple pandas are asking me to choose: do I want a glass of lemonade or would I like to hit them with a sledgehammer? Which do you think would be more appropriate?
Should I call an ambulance?
And, on a totally unrelated topic, what is the best way to remove roaches that are crawling underneath my skin?
**
Join PETA, or go to work at your local animal shelter. Smorgasbord time!
Wump:
**
Try putting broken glass, staples and carpenter nails in where the potatoes go. Sprinting on a treadmill dialed to maximum speed for as long as you can is also a good idea for chest pains.
Tazma:
**
Asbestos. That’s starting to flake and create dust.
evilbeth:
Bite. As hard as you can. He’ll think it’s playful of you.
longjohn:
The best way to find out is to go to a laundromat with those large, industrial sized washers, and hop in with a load of whites. Bring a straw.
**
This is perfectly normal. At any moment a bright orange, talking walrus will enter the room. Do as he says, and you’ll be fine.
So I finally met the man of my dreams. The creepy dreams where you find yourself naked from the waist down holding 3/4" wood screws in the canned food section of your local quickie-mart. When I met him, what struck me instantly was his sense of humor, good posture and that he looked me in the eye (I only have one). Anyway, we seemed to get along pretty well, and retired shortly to the local motel for what I thought would be a pleasant evening of wanton sex and anonymity. But all he wanted to do was watch baseball games on TV, play cards, and eat frozen pizza. Well, there must have been something in that pizza, because I woke up the next morning in an ice-filled bathtub with a note stapled to my chest saying “If you want to live, call 911 and tell them you have had a kidney stolen.” So my question is, since he only stole a duplicated organ and left the note, how long should I wait to call him?
Lately I have had the urge to smack my husband upside the head with a white hot cast iron skillet while he is sleeping. Should I act on this or will it harm my skillet ?
