Dear Milo,
I really enjoy jumping up and down on piles of sticks that are inside a working woodchipper. It really gets the blood flowing. I was recently wondering if it wouldn’t be even more of a rush to try it headfirst. What do you think?
Dear Milo:
After studying the SDMB for some time, and afer much thought and introspection, I have come to realize that I am a lesbian trapped in the body of a man. I have at hand a set of garden shears and a 3/4 inch cordless drill. How should I proceed?
Drain Bead:
You know those plastic lemons with the lemon juice in them? Hold it up there and give it a good squeeze.
Ayesha:
**
Swing away, and be sure to use oven mitts.
Blackclaw:
**
Jeez, what are you people thinking sometimes? Don’t even think of attempting this unless you’re wearing a hat. You might get sawdust in your hair!
Try “I caaan’t get a daaaaattteee…”
Dear Milo,
I think my girlfriend might be giving me little hints that maybe she would like our relationship to be more “permanent”.
Mostly it’s subtle, little things like the six inch high pile of “Modern Bride” and “Martha Stewart’s ‘Weddings’” magazines fanned out over her coffee table. And also the way she lingers at jewelry store windows, stopping only to, as she puts it “window shop” and “try on” and “get fitted” and “negotiate financing” on rings.
The problem is, at 28 I’m not sure I’m ready for commitment. Women, the longer they get to know me, seem to become more and more prone to dry-clicking revolvers at me. And I’m afraid that having children might mean sharing my legos.
What should I do?
Inky
Inky -
You’re right. She’s wrong. Twenty-eight is far too young to be settling down. If she can’t see that a retarded state of perpetual, irresponsible adolescence is the best lifestyle for you both, maybe it’s time to move on.
Speaking of moving, you might find more fulfillment if you quit your job and move back in with your parents. Try chaperoning high school dances as a way to meet women.
Dammit Liz, get away from that keyboard and untie Milossarian.
Dear Milossarian,
I have an interior design problem. I own a run-down 10-room Victorian house. I want to restore it. However, my budget consists of a hundred dolar bill and a 12-pack of dubious, generic beer. Whom should I hire and what should I expect for my money? I am counting on you.
I also have a crush on the MPSIMS mods. All of 'em. Alas, they don’t even know I exist:(. I need to do something really brilliant, so that they will notice little ole me. Please advise.
Tabathina:
I suggest you post “free beer party if you bring your own paint” posters at local bars where motorcycle gangs hang out. You can always find great drapes and furniture at your local landfill.
As for the mods, a Cyrano D’Bergerac approach would work best. Try posting under a different name, say, Oat Willie or Jack Dean Tyler. Be real annoying and persistant. They will come to admire you for the intellectual challenges you continually present to them.
Dear Milo:
I have this problem. Lately, my fiancée has been sticking objects up my ass. First, a strap-on, and now one of those squeezy lemon juice things. And to make things worse, she woke me up both times. It hurts. Badly. Ouch.
So what should I do, both romantically and medically, and which should I handle first?
Yer pal,
Bleeding Bunghole
TIME ELAPSED SINCE I QUIT SMOKING:
Nine months, one day, 18 hours, 48 minutes and 23 seconds.
11071 cigarettes not smoked, saving $1,384.13.
Extra life saved: 5 weeks, 3 days, 10 hours, 35 minutes.
See my Sig File FAQ: http://pages.prodigy.net/briank.o/SigFAQ.htm
Milossarian
<sigh> You are my hero</sigh>. Now I have a crush on you, too.
::runs off to implement decorating scheme, and to try on sockpuppets of devotion;)::
Dear Milo,
I’m a lesbian in search of a femme, single lesbian with a decent job, no husband and no kids. Everytime I go out to the gay bars here in town, most of the lesbians I see have crew cuts, boots on, baggy jeans and a shirt from Abercrombie and Fitch. Martina Navratilova is a regular Catherine Zeta-Jones compared to most. They almost make Gerard Depardieu look good to me. Well, like the restaurant that serves horrible food and in too small portions, I have a complaint. I never get hit on because everyone thinks I am straight.
How can I solve this problem without attaching my wallet to my jeans, cutting my hair and stop wearing lipstick?
Thanks,
Tibs.
P.S. You don’t happen to look like Gerard Depardieu, do you?
Satan:
**
Romantically, work to maintain the status quo. Women find a weeping, stinging, bloody anus that also happens to be lemony fresh irresistable!
Medically, it would probably be best to keep it from ever beginning to heal. Start wiping with 10-grit sandpaper.
Tiburon:
**
No, I don’t look like Gerard. But if it will help me to get some, I will talk with a fake, cheesy French accent, and try not to sound like Inspector Clouseau.
As for your lesbian difficulties … try going to bars where you local college fraternities hang out. Wear too-short jean cutoffs and tight T-shirts with no bra.
I’m sure those college fellas will help hook you up with femme-looking lezzies in no time!
Dear Mr. Bad Advice Guy:
I told my husband what you said about PMS being all in my head, and he agreed.
Now he’s whining about how his head hurts really bad. Being a musician, he doesn’t pay much attention to the world around him, so he hasn’t yet noticed that there’s a very large bread knife embedded in his forehead. I have no idea how it got there.
Should I tell him about the knife, or just wait until he figures it out himself? Knowing him, it won’t be until next Tuesday.
Thanks!
Persephone:
I’d stay mum. Let him discover it on his own, and decide for himself if he likes it.
He’ll figure it out as soon as he tries to put on a baseball cap.
Dear Milo,
I just have to thank you for my beautiful new home! I’m going to save a TON on electricity, as I only have one working outlet left…as long as I can plug in my 'puter, I’m fine. The “randomly strewn rubble” look is very eclectic, and I have a Jackson Pollock type masterpiece on every wall. I still can’t figure out how they got the tire tracks on the ceiling; I am overcome with emotion every time I see them! What artistry! I found a dented can of beer under a pile of plaster. I’ll drink to you, my friend!
I was going to post under the name JDT, but I had this irrational fear that my thread would be cut short, soon after birth, if ya know what I mean. Do you have any other ideas to help me make the MPSIMS mods notice me?
I hang on your every word.
Dear Milo,
The advice guy I write to has stopped responding. Does this mean he’s not my friend any more? Should I hunt him down and mercilessly shove this weasel up his ass?
Thanks for previous advice…squatting over a walnut worked!
Monster104:
I suggest you stop paying your income tax, and follow up by writing taunting letters to the Internal Revenue Service, concluding with the question, “And what do you paper-pushing pansies think you can do about it?”
That should help.
Milo, this brilliant, funny journalist guy that I thought was well-nigh unbearably attractive when I met him just made an offhand comment about Lawrence Welk reruns. I know Detroit public TV runs them and frankly, I LOVE them. They remind me of my childhood (back when three channels were ALL we got). How do I get over my hurt feelings? Should I keep this to myself so he doesn’t think I’m a loser?
Dear Milo–
Last week, my dragon ate the mailman. I just finished going through all the undelivered mail in his bag, and there was no cash in any of them. What do I do now?