I had sex with my friend's dad last week, and I'm not really sure how to go about telling my buddy. I mean we were always best friends growing up, playing baseball, soccer and all kinds of boyhood things. Things did change as we got older and I went to college and started experimenting, we stopped talking a little, but I still consider myself fairly close to him. How should I tell him that his Dad and I are an item?

PHIL, San Francisco, CA

Erva the Intolerant Geriatric replies:
By the way you spell your cognomen I am apt to assume that you are a male as I have a friend named Phyllis who goes by Phyl on occasion and, after conferring with her at our weekly bridge game, have concluded that no respectable woman would spell it 'Phil.' I am also in assumption that you are sending this question as it may lead to the conclusion that you are a homosexual. There is nothing wrong with that - unless you have no problem going to Hell. But why should that bother you? Damn queers have been running amok for years now beginning with the damn idea of 'free love' introduced by those atheist hippies when rock music began to pollute the radio waves.

Our benevolent God has no place in the world for damn queers like you. My late brother Abner said he had 'thoughts' about another man while in the war and he committed himself to gay camp as soon as he returned. The blessed priests that cured him of the gay confiscated all of his gay paraphernalia including his shaving cream tubes with male simulacra and his Sears Roebuck catalogue. After weeks of prayer and repenting came home with an understanding of true love and a desire to court a young lady.

You should not tell your friend, you should never tell another soul except the wise men at your local diocese. They can help you become human again and lead you towards a sin-free lifestyle in which love for your fellow Catholic and an obedient wife will be all you need. As for your friend's father, he needs to be outed with discretion as you have been put on the right path and you need not attention cast in your direction. As a father, he should know better than to succumb to the temptations of God's creations and since we know he is a sinner he must be punished. Find a way to tell his family, perhaps an anonymous parchment detailing his activities, and they shall shun him as well. Make it known at his work so that in any direction he should turn there will be a vengeful eye doing Our Lord's work. Once he feels the smite bearing on him he shall turn to our way or understand that the only valiant way to go will be euthanasia by means of the underside of a trolley car. Just like Abner.

My boyfriend sometimes hits me but I really love him. What should I do?
HAWAIIAN PUNCHED, Honolulu, HI.

Dr. Joyce Smotherbox replies:
Listen Punched, unless your boyfriend is Vin Diesel he is not worth staying with if he hits you. That is, unless he is well hung and spends more time pleasuring you with his enormous rod than he does beating you with his gigantic fists.

I have heard from many girls who tell me stories of getting beaten. They say their boyfriends use lines like "I only hit you cause I love you" and "If I don't punch you in the womb you may have this baby." If a man is hitting you, he doesn't love you. He just loves fucking your little pink pussy and can't stand to be around you the rest of the time. Maybe you give really great head so he doesn't want to dump you. That doesn't mean he loves you.

Plus, if you are dumb enough to stay with a guy who laces into you, perhaps you need a good cunt kick or two just to knock some sense into your mentally challenged head. I know it is easy to pick on the victim, but maybe you are just that fucking annoying that your boyfriend needs to hit you. I don't know. I'm only a doctor not a psychic.

Listen, you need to go sit down at a 24 Hour Denny's, order yourself a Grand Slam Breakfast, and really think about your current situation. Just about the time you are finishing up your last home fry, you are going to realize that you can do better and you will dump his ass. Just be careful that your lunatic ex doesn't come beat you up one last time for dumping him. That could be ugly.

Oh, and don't be such a nag to your next boy toy, cause he'll probably end up hitting your stank ass too.

The Good Doc is out.

I overheard my mother and father fighting the other day because my mom walked in on my dad watching a "snuff film." What is that?
CURIOUSITY SNUFFED THE CAT

T. LeDoyt replies:
I believe I'm well suited to answer this query. A snuff film is the greatest genre of film, ever. Among my many fames (singer, songwriter, model, barbeque sauce mogul) is a lead acting role in many of the most famous snuff films. Some of my greatest roles are in the films 'The Trouble With Girls (is Life);' 'No Viva Las Vegas;' 'Live a Little, Snuff a Little;' 'Harum Snuffum;' 'Love Me Snuffder;' and 'T. Ledoyt: Life of a Real Man.' A snuff film is considered a lost genre of film because there are so few actors and actresses left that it is mainly an underground activity rarely funded by studios leaving the producers and actors with a small budget.

Your mom is likely upset by the supposed poor treatment of women in these films as its roots lie in the late 19th Century where women were seen as male property and lesser beings. This is simply not true. It is impossible to see these as anything other than a celebration of life as it is a fleeting and wonderous thing. Women tend to view snuff in its base understanding as degrading and horrific when, in fact, modern snuff has traveled far from its beginnings and has evolved into an artform. The modern snuff film is tasteful and prodigious in its portrayals and continues to push the limits of what should be acceptable in society. It is a genre, mind you, but is more of a progressive movement of mankind towards the ultimate goal of happiness.

Your mother should not be mad at your father, she should be supportive and, even, gleeful that he chooses to be a part of the betterment of what can be seen as a sometimes cynical world. Tell your father that you want to be a part of his activities, a part of the snuff movement, and a part of a better life.

I have an embarrassing problem. Lately I have been masturbating to internet sites that feature animals having sex with humans. I am afraid that someone may find out about this, but right now I am having the best orgasms I have ever had. What should I do.
SPANKING MY MONKEY TO MONKEYS, St. Paul, Minn.

Dr. Joyce Smotherbox replies:
Listen, many people have somewhat strange fetishes. I mean I enjoy watching a pair of men dressed in clown suits fellate each other.

While your fetish is a bit different then what I enjoy, since it focuses on animals, don't be upset. There wouldn't be these sorts of websites out there if there wasn't sick perverts like yourself looking at them.

Next time you are chocking the ole' chicken, just think, some neck in Nebraska is probably doing the same thing right now. Just think of all 400 pounds of him, sitting in his flannel shirt and long john bottoms, with his stubby cock in his hand, beating off while looking at a woman give head to a horse.

While pleasuring yourself in your home is not hurting anyone other than your dick which has by now probably turned a pale shade of purple, you don't want to make this "fantasy" world turn into a reality. If you find yourself driving to work and you see a woman walking a dog and you think to yourself, "Self, wouldn't it be great if we kidnapped that woman and forced her to lick that dog's butthole while I beat off," then you may have a problem. That is where your sick fantasy begins to hurt other people.

So for now, enjoy what you are doing. Chances are you will get over this fetish of yours or you will eventually get arrested for starting a sheep fucking cult.

Who is my real father?
RICHIE, Woodstock, NY

Goth Kid replies:
Fathers? Let me tell you something about fathers. A father is the guy who looks at you and says, "What would you like for dinner?" Dinner, huh? Why doesn't he just ask me why I put on black make-up and dress in black and have no soul? Why doesn't he tell me what he really means, that I was an accident on the night the condom broke when he and my "mother" were celebrating their 5th wedding anniversary by drinking Franzia and eating crappy Thai food and that I was their "favorite accident?" Favorite? They must be joking like when the so-called "God" thought he could impose his fascist beliefs on the world saying that the Devil is bad and Hell is an awful place when, in fact, it is the only place that welcomes tortured souls like my own like the jaws of a rabid wolf welcome the taste of mortal flesh. My father should just tell me that I am not as good as my brother and that the world would be a better place (if that's even possible, as it's just the dump where decaying bodies gather flies and maggots and get recycled into this never-ending pit of despair) without me. I know how he feels about me, that is, if I've ever really been able to feel. He wishes I were dead so that he, my mother, and my brother could continue their jaded existences without my atheism challenging their hopes of utopia. The only perfect world is one where I'm alone to wallow in my own misery - then and only then can I be happy.

Richie, the only reason you should have for wanting to find your father is so that you could thank him for abandoning you to spare you the feelings of doubt and shame he'd cast at you. And you shouldn't have to thank him; he brought you into this Ken and Barbie facade of a world where hope runs rampant like the sheep traveling back and forth from their jobs to their families to their jobs to their families with never the thought of why they participate in this conformist regime or why hope exists when the only end will be death. My true family is the one frowned upon by the curds of conformist society. With Darkness as my father and Death as my mother I will eagerly await what they have in store for me. Who cares who your father is? You have a new family now and we will hate each other as plain as black and white, and you will die, and that will be your only true solace.

Dear Pop Vultures,
My friend keeps telling the same joke, over and over. He won't stop! Everywhere I go with him he will tell it. "Wanna CD?" and the person will reply in the positive, and he will respond, "Wanna see deez nuts?" I can't take it any more. He beat the horse to death and is continuing to maim its corpse. How can I tell him that this joke is stupid, it's always been stupid, and will always be stupid?
CHOKING ON JOKE - ERIE, PA

Lord Jowlmonger VIII replies:
So, you have a jester on your hands who won’t hush his commonplace prattling? Undoubtedly, his repeated episodes of nincompooping are making you redder than Saint George’s Cross with a side of pumpernickel jam! Oh, I too have gazed out the window of a companion’s persistence and like Speed 2: Cruise Control, I was duly unimpressed. Your question reminds of when I was studying under the Vicar of Turnstable at Westminster. During my year of schooling, I met a young maiden who was none other than sister of Lady Meredith Steamytaint! I know you must be in disbelief, but my jowls utter true. It wasn’t long before we were tiptoeing into each other’s chambers for barbarian style coitus! Oh the ecstasy! However, it wasn’t long before she started to develop a troubling obsession. During the course our genital gorging romps, the young vixen took to fingering my urethra, or what you Westerns refer to as “pee-hole.” At first I was excited at this rather randy exploration of the human form, but soon I contracted horrible pustules and fungal growths. My pubic hair grew substantially and as a result caused what you Westerns may call, “hair-up-the-tree.” I subsequently ended my relationship with the raucous maiden, taking with me a valuable lesson: an ingrown hair in the gunt, is worth two in the heat rash.

Highest regards,

LJ

How come you never really answer anyone's questions? You guys simply make fun of people and tell them to do stupid ridiculous things. How about some real advice, anyone can run a blog that just makes fun of people, but it takes true talent to be the next Ann Landers.
ODD AND STANDOFFISH

The Editor replies:
We, The Pop Vultures, resent the notion that we provide poor advice as do our panel of professionals. Each of them has read the question and each is genuinely offended by your suggestion, but, as we answer questions sent to us out of our desire to help, your accusation will be addressed as any other question would be.

As is our mission goal, "We guide the provision of advice by divvying submitted questions to a panel of professionals;" these professionals are, "experts in their respective fields and answer the questions based both on who we feel would provide the most thorough answer and, situationally, the best advice." The questions sent to us undergo analysis in a private forum within our offices by our panel and it is they who decide which of them would be able to offer the best solution, not us. We trust our panel as they have proven to us through their own work and our screening process that they are able and excellent advice-givers and life-changers. We have received numerous congratulations and thank-you's for the guidance our panelists have provided from those that came to us with problems. In fact, you are the first naysayer in our quest of changing the world for the better.

But we are not here to criticize you for your criticisms of us. No, your quandry will be answered as any other is with the only difference being that, as you have personally and professionaly attacked our panelists, we, the editors, The Pop Vultures, will respond to your issue. We personally make sure that the answers are professional and directed towards helping and trust our panel to do the same. We do not feel we "make fun of people and tell them to do stupid ridiculous things" - this is advice given by real people who have lived their lives until this point gaining experience and now have the express goal of helping you, the public. With that in mind, you must understand that they are people too; they are not omnipotent beings that can see into the futures of the people that need help, they just offer advice to the best of their ability, and we have this panel because of their superb abilities to affect the world for the better.

Now that your grievance has been aired we hope that you have a better understanding of our goal and a new appreciation of the advice we have given and will continue to give.

The Pop Vultures

I just turned 28 and I'm going on my first date this weekend with a really hot chick, but, being inexperienced, I am not sure how I can get her in my house to have sex with her without my mom hearing the basement door slam. She hates to be woken up, and I'm sure my new girlfriend will be screaming with pleasure all night. How do I please both my mom and my date at the same time?
LOUD AND NOT SO PROUD - Peoria, IL

Dr. Joyce Smotherbox replies:
Listen friend, at the moment you have bigger issues than trying to sneak past your mother with some hussy you brought to a Dairy Queen and who will now submit to you quicker than the French in World War II. How about the fact that you are 28 and still live with your mom. I'm guessing that she still cooks you grilled cheese's for lunch and has to wash the skid marks out of your spongebob boxer shorts. You want to know how to please both women in your life, how bout this: Get a motherfuckin job and an apartment and then lace it to your little lady in the privacy of your own home.

If this is out of reach because you work as the night manager at a gas station and all of your money is put towards your two addictions; Pokeman and weed, then I have some useful advice for you still.

One, crush up 10 sleeping pills and mix them into your mothers nightly oatmeal snack. After this you will have all the privacy you will ever need.

If this doesn't work, tell your girlfriend to lose 20 pounds and then sneak her through the tiny basement window. I am sure she could stand to drop a few pounds anyway. You don't want her ass looking like cottage cheese now do you?

If you are looking for still another way, use your actual penis to have sex with her instead of pulling out a 10 inch dildo when she is not looking. Your penis is only three inches long and in no way will ever get this girl screaming. If she does scream, she is faking. Tell her to knock it off before she wakes up your mom.

If nothing else works, tell her your mom has the bubonic plague and that you will have to get a hotel room to have your little tryst in. Then steal the money out of your moms purse when she is cooking you a grilled cheese and make sure to nut all over this whores pretty little face. She probably likes that shit.

Until next time, Happy Fucking.

I'm looking to start up a business. I have motivation and funding but no idea. I am 45-year-old man with experience in many business-related fields and a Bachelor's in Economics and a Master's in Media Relations. I have a broad spectrum of interests and wish to help people and make money. What should I do?
BENTLEY GRAD - Waltham, MA

Cloud Moss replies:
Would you like to help people or make money? If you are truly interested in helping people, come join my worldwide coalition. We are developing a large scale music festival to support pocket-composting, animal rights, raw vegan lifestyles, harmonic inner prize health supplements and the arrest and public execution of Dick Cheney. You could for once use your "education" to help some people who really need it. You will have to be willing to change your outlook if you are going to work to help people the way that I have dedicated this life to. It is important to be able to adjust your "economics" bachelor degree way of thinking into the way things truly work, i.e. barter value of live Phish tapes, market value of organic Himalayan gogi berry juice vs. Chinese gogi berry juice, you see where I'm going right? Helping others can be the most rewarding part of life, but first you need to help yourself. Watch your enzyme levels, and be aware of the nutrients and bacteria escape when your food is cooked. Be sure to consume only uncooked, fully chewed fruits, nuts, avocados and soaked cereal grains. And if you're writing looking for advice on how to make tons of money and become another sheep in the fascist Wall-Street run Euro-centric indigenous-raping early grave of a bile-pot, be my fucking guest, but don't expect Her to forgive you when you choke on the portraits of slave-traders that you and your oil soaked war chiefs throw at each other.

Namaste.

Is Elvis really dead?
PRISCILLA, GRACELAND, NJ

T. LeDoyt replies:
Uh-huh, this is one I can answer. Many people believe that Elvis Aaron Presley was born January 8, 1935, and passed on to a pill-infused, fried chicken Heaven August 16, 1977. That idea is all shook up - no more should this travesty of a rumor be passed on from the red country to blue Hawaii. From his roles in 'Love Me Tender' to 'Change of Habit,' he accrued many stunt doubles and lookalikes that could mimic him to a T. They could be him. If I were alive when he was people would've mistaken us as brothers, as twins, and we would've toured as The Presleys. The fact of the matter is on that particular day at Graceland a stunt double was used, one that was a perfect match to The King (we could've been The Kings). That man was Ralph Barlow - Elvis's twin brother! Now that the secret has been unearthed the story can be told.

Elvis and Ralph were born together in East Tupelo, Mississippi, and it was trouble from the start. Ralph was a uppity child and used to hit his brother when they played. One time the two were playing and Ralph stole Elvis's nookie, diapered him (that pantsing, for infants), and shoved the sucker up his bum. Their parents became worried when Elvis didn't poop for 9 days and finally figured it out when they caught Ralph pumping the nookie like a piston in and out of Elvis's ass. They deemed them Adam and Evil. Ralph was put up for adoption the very next day. Elvis's parents never spoke a word of Ralph to him ever.

Ralph was adopted by a dirt farmer in Nebraska and was raised in that manner. It was not until Ralph was 22 that he found out he was adopted and that he held an uncanny resemblance to the up-and-coming King. It took him 10 years to convince his brother that they were twins and their reunion was kept a secret. Ralph lived happily as an Elvis impersonator and was worried as his brother was on the decline. He opted to do to his body what Elvis was doing to his: drugs, chicken, and pudding. The day before Elvis supposedly passed on he had a heart attack and needed a heart transplant. Knowing that Elvis's persona would live on and that Ralph's success was due completely to his brother's fame, Ralph heroically offered his heart to his brother to continue living life.

Elvis swore off his suicidal lifestyle and continued life as an Elvis impersonator. He once saw me performing and decided to take me under his wing. He taught me to play every song, act in every role, and anal. In 1995 he knew he was going to die and left me instructions: he asked me as his prized protege to pay homage to his brother and the gift he gave him by a transfer of his soul to mine. On December 26, 1995, Canada's Boxing Day, Elvis Aaron Presley passed away and I followed out his orders: I orally consumed his entire body and crafted his bones into a guitar case covered in blue suede.

Elvis is not dead. He lives on. In me.

The big company golf tournament is this weekend. I'm no Jack Nicklaus, but I've got a pretty low handicap. Should I beat my boss if I get the chance?

The God of Thunder replies:
Since you attached no name to your query I'm forced to assume that you ARE in fact Jack Nicklaus. Never the less, I've thought long and hard... pardon me I seem to have gotten distracted for a moment. Were was I? Oh yes, your question.

The answer is quite simple Jack! Take that 9 iron out of your ass and beat yourself to death with it. Pardon my saying so, but who the fuck cares about your golf match with the boss. Either way you've probably got yourself a 401k and a trophy wife. By the way, she's cheating on you. Don't believe me? Ask her about that stain on the living room carpet.

How you corporate Fausts can feel sorry for yourselves is beyond me. If you really want my advice, ditch the golf game, buy a dogeared copy of "On the Road" and hitchhike through this great nation of ours with naught but the tailored shirt on your back. That way your wife and I can finally have the alone time we deserve.

My friends and I are trying to start a fad where one takes a bottle or can of Twisted Tea and pounds it, the stipulation being that it can only touch you lips once. We call it one-touching. How do we spread the word that this isn't dumb?
TOUCHING WITH EACH OTHER

mrtasty68+1 replies:
This is a great question, LOL. 1 time I created a drink 2 share with my friends. 1 Friday night when they didn't feel like going 2 the teen center they sent me a message: "wut u up 2?" I asked, "WTMUIRL?" After Mapquesting my address they came over and wanted something 2 make our time more fun. I went 2 the closest liqour store and picked up a 12-pack of Raspberry Smirnoff Ice and then 2 the drug store and bought a big bottle of NyQuil. I call it sippy juice. I mixed it in an empty gallon bottle on my ride home and thrusted it at my friends when I arrived. I used the same sort of technique you're describing, having them touch it 2 their lips once but before they finished they were 2 tired to do anything. Luckily, I was able to stay awake and make sure they got 2 bed. I even filmed them so it would be like a video yearbook we could share! I watched them sleep 2 make sure they were ok, which was good because they were all confused where they were and thought their parents would be angry. We all hugged and they walked home. I've been sharing sippy juice with my friends ever since!

Wut you need 2 do is share your drink with others. I find that the younger crowd is more likely 2 try new drinks and if 1 of them likes it they will spread the word. Find yourself some younger friends and then make them drink it. Film them and then show your other friends that your drink is fun. And if they don't like it, drug em. JK. ROFL. :-)

The other morning after my daily pick-up basketball game at the local Youth Men's Christian Association, I was showering with the guys and happened to check out one of their "dongs." I did not say anything then, but deep down I had a burning in my groin region. I have always been with women, and based on my muscle mass, I will continue to pull pussy for many a day. Was my first thought gay? Please let me know so I can stop scrubbing my eyes with bleach.
THE HAPPY GAY NOT THE GAY GAY - Manitoba, Canada

Straightpants Sinatra replies:
So there partner, you happened to glance at another man's genitals. I don't see no problem with that, unless of course you are feeling the urge to put on your mom's panties and attend a Marilyn Manson show like the rest of these liberal sallies. My buddy Travis and I shower together all the time. But we also drink Budweiser and cum inside women. Just because I see Travis's taut shoulders and lower back on a daily basis doesn't mean I have "the gay". In fact, it doesn't bother me at all to see the way Travis struggles to get his wet thighs into his tight Wrangler jeans. I would say we have the best conversations in the locker room, alone, after a long day, together, alone. . .

You see it's the goddamn left-wingers who say it's alright to be a flaming homo. That's what it is, plain as pie. Tell you what, you come on down to my neck of the woods and see if you find any of those tree-hugging Commies. Back in my daddy's time, you wouldn't here none of that queer talk. That's back when men were men and women knew it. And you didn't have to get your wife off neither. She was just glad to be apart of the family.

You just need to get yourself a slam pig with perky tits and throat that goes for miles. If you still think you ain't cured, then go to football game or wrestling match. See some real men exhibit their manhood while they grapple and rub against each other. That'll make you think twice about looking at another man's junk.

I met a girl at a party last night and this morning I woke up with a
rash on my balls. What should I do?
YEARNING AND BURNING

Dr. Joyce Smotherbox replies:
First off, let me congratulate you on pulling some inebriated skank who was probably too impaired to know any better than to succumb to your wiles. You shouldn't be surprised by the "present" she left you with, as I am sure you are not the first guy she has tangoed with late into the night. Do not worry though, as I have had this question in the past, making me more than able to help you in your current situation.

The last young man I had with this type of quandary had a rather unique story. After playing World of Warcraft for 36 straight hours he decided to partake in some exercise, which of course led him to his local Lazer Tag arena. While playing, he met a portly girl named Randy who he teamed up with to take down the competition.

After hitting it off, the two decided to leave and, after having a quick bite at Sbarro, went back to the young man's lair and began playing their own version of "lazer tag."

The boy awoke the next morning with redness in his scrotum. Thinking at first that it was simply chaffed from Lazer Tag. He finally contacted me and, as I now must do for you, I had to inform him that he had AIDS and will die.

Two of my coworkers are having an illicit tryst and I am feeling conflicted. Should I ‘out’ their sordid affair to the rest of the office? What I would really like to do is join in. How can I squeeze my way into their fun time?
(UNLUCKY) PIERRE, CUBICLE #3, SEDONA, AZ

Erva the Intolerant Geriatric replies:
I assume that by an "illicit tryst" you are referring to activities displayed in stag films at adult theaters in the metropolis. Such smut should NOT be allowed in any public means and is NOT permitted in The Bible and is considered blasphemy. They are going to hell. Anyone they know is going to hell, and that includes you. You need to warm them to the light of Our Lord so that they can cleanse themselves of their sins and return to a more prudent lifestyle. You should certainly make aware every office employee and craft two calligraphic scarlet "A's" for each to wear on their work garments as Hester Prynne did so that others may know of their inexcusable goings-on. You then should instruct other employees to sneer at them as they move to and fro work and cast stones in their directions at every possible moment.

This matter could be made worse by several factors. Are they the same race, creed, or gender? God will smite these evils with fury from His hands if they are a couple of damn queers. You must not succumb to your yearnings! If you feel your desires weighing too much on your soul you must repent with lashings and prayer. If your co-workers are anything but white, steer clear of them! The swine that plagues our land must be ostracized the same as the vermin from your workplace.

I'm going to be a contestant on Jeopardy, but I don't know how to study for the questions. How can I best prepare for my appearance on the show so I don't look like a fool?
NEEDS ASSISTANCE DESPERATELY STAT

Lord Jowlmonger VIII replies:
My my, you have quite the task a head of you NADS. The sharp tongue of Alex Trebek must be met with equally stern veracity or I'm afraid you shall look like the court jester of Meriwether, Criss Angel! As sure as Jewel's tooth is snaggled, you will be asked to expound upon a number of topics. But alas your journey is not lost yet. I can help.

Recently, I took a pilgrimage to the delicious stone jowls of the southern oracle Olmec. After successfully extracting the Pendants of Life from the temple, I was granted with next week's Jeopardy topics! At first I thought this was a little random seeing how I went to the oracle to find out if I had AIDS or not, but now that you have asked this question, I know now that the Almighty Krang watches over us all. Anywho, here are your categories: Prison Etiquette, Smotherboxes, Malt Liquor, World Music, 15th Century Lords, Raves.

I hope that aides your quest. I must be off now. I have business to attend to at Sussex. My fellow nobles and I are going to stay up all night and beat Jurassic Park for SNES. I leave you with a poem for good luck.

"Anytime I need to see your face, I just close my eyes I am taken to a place where your crystal mind and magenta feelings take up shelter in the base of my spine. Sweet like a chicka cherry cola. Ooh I want you, I don't know if I need you, but ooh I'd die to find out."

Highest regards,

LJ

I have a co-worker who I really like, but I don’t know how to approach them. It is wrong to kiss someone you work with, or wood that just make it really uncomfortable whenever I talk to them?
JANICE, SEDONA, AZ

John Zombie replies:
This reminds me of the time I crashed my dad's dragula. I stressed and stressed about it for days before I finally worked up the nerve to tell him. In the end, he actually took it pretty well. My only punishment was that I had to watch The Devil's Rejects and write a 500 word essay on why it is the greatest horror film 2005. My point is, if you have something to say, it will eat at you like a Tremor in your small intestine until you say it. Now when you do tell this person your feelings, it is important not to move too fast. This holds true especially at the office. I'm sure your first instinct is to lure this person into the downstairs bathroom (the one that everyone shits in) and finger them. But finger banging your crush at the office is frowned upon usually. Plus, it is a distraction when you have to smell your fingers every couple seconds. A couple of quiet lunches together or a movie is a great way to start. I suggest Halloween. It is the scariest film of the year and it will give you an excuse to cuddle.

I heard a rumor that cigarettes were bad for you. Is this true?
NICK O. TEEN

mrtasty68+1 replies:
Technically, cigarettes are bad for u. That doesn't mean that they aren't good for u, though. I find that thirteen, fourteen, and fifteen-year-old children xoxo them. I smoke Parliaments. Kids luv my Parliaments, especially when I use their tongue and say P-funks, they luv that 2. Of course, I'm not saying that I give minors my P-funks cuz that would be illegal, LOL. It would also be illegal if I waited by a school dressed as a crossing guard telling children that my seeing-eye-dog, Fuzzles, was back at my house in my basement and in order for them to take him for a walk they have to find his leash, which is either under the oil tank or in the dryer, and that their parents didn't have to know because I was not a stranger so we could be friends.

To answer your question, cigarettes make friends, especially friends waiting in the car who can't cum in because they "forgot" their IDs in their other Boss jeans or L.E.I.s.

Hello. My name is Ryan Tittles and I am in 8th grade. I get picked on a lot in school. How do I make them stop?
RYAN - NORTH CONWAY, NH

Straightpants Sinatra replies:
See there Ryan, you want them to stop eh? Well let me frickin ask ya, what do you do to make them pick on you? Nothing you say? You are not doing anything to facilitate your misery? So you mean to tell me you don't wear the same B.U.M. Equipment shirt to school three days a week? You are gonna tell me you don't have bitch tits and that you don't reek of Polo Safari? So you are not lying when you tell me that you don't play Warcraft instead of doing sports?

I've got you pegged Ryan Titties. How do I know they call you that? Cause you have a gay last name, that's why. But you can't help that you say? Your small handed father gave you that name? That might be true there Tits, but you don't do anything to overshadow the fact that your name it is queerer than a three dollar bill. Here is Tits's typical day: wake up 5 minutes before school, not shower, eat a Toaster Strudel, get boners in class and not pay attention, come home and not do anything your parents ask of you, go up to your room and play video games and listen to Good Charlotte, repeat.

Get your frickin life together Titties. Get some fresh air for Christ's sake. Do something social. Then you can stop masturbating 8 times a day to your mom's Chadwick's magazines that you steal before anybody gets home. Then maybe, just maybe you won't grow up like the rest of sissified America. And oh yeah. Get a job.

When I wake up in the morning, I have no desire to do anything. What can I do?
NOTHING LEFT TO LIVE FOR

Goth Kid replies:
You sound depressed. It's natural. I wake up every day and wonder why I'm still living. The only answer I come up with is to spread the misery that plagues me, plagues my soul. What is a soul? People, conformists, say that the soul is incorporeal essence residing in every living being. I say it is a farce, a gimmick created by happy people who look for something to hope for after death. Hope, that's a laugh. All that comes from hope is heartbreak, not that my heart isn't broken. Sure, it beats. It does its job pushing blood through my living corpse. This idea that the heart does anything besides its biological function makes me want it to stop beating altogether. Death is all that comes from life. Life is pain. Death ends that pain.

My job is boring. What can I do to spice things up at the workplace?
IN NEED OF EXCITEMENT

Lord Jowlmonger VIII replies:
This reminds me of my fortnight at Standish. The then Pope Markus McGrath IV requested my company in order to discuss plans for the Lilith Fair at Kent. When not coordinating with the Steward Muldoon I found myself with ample time to enjoy the countryside. However, I soon grew weary of my prairie grass frolickings and grew quite restless. One day I went for a jaunt to the polo fields and found a considerable amount of fecal matter near the stables. My curiosity was overbearing and I plunged my hands into the droppings of what appeared to belong to the mighty steed Artex. Oh the warmth! Reminiscence of a year's Yorkshire sun! Soon I was completely inundated in joy thicker than Madam Sandra Bullock's cream tarts. My depression was cured! I spent the rest of my time scampering off to the fields every chance I got. My advice: find a private storehouse of delicious stool and it will be worth its weight in gold bullions.