A Message from Opie

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Ask Special Guest Columnist Brad Pit

Dear Special Guest Columnist Brad Pitt,

When are you going to dump Angelina and marry me instead?

Sincerely,
Larsima Herpamer*:


Dear LarsH:

I was just about to do that very thing when Angelina inflated her hypnotic lips and...well...now, sadly, I'm under her spell. I've lost all free will. Otherwise, I'd be in your arms right now.

Sincerely (almost) yours:
Bradleyford Pittworthington**




*editor's note: Name changed to protect the "innocent." (snort)

**editor's other note: No wonder he shortened his name. Wanna bet the kids picked kicked his ass every day on the playground? Who's laughing now, bizatches!

Ask Special Guest Columnist Mr. Rogers

Dear Special Guest Columnist Mr. Rogers:

I am having extreme difficulty changing my shoes. Having watched your program from a very early age, I am aware that after removing a shoe, one should toss it from hand to hand before proceeding, yet my hand-eye coordination is so bad that I inevitably toss a shoe in the fish tank, or worse hit myself in the face with it. Help!

Sincerely,
"Shoe-Hit In The Face"


Dear S.H.I.T. Face:

I can completely understand your problem. When I first started in this business, I was landing shoes everywhere. After I inadvertently filled his moat with stray sneakers, King Friday XIII finally signed a make-believe death warrant, which I negotiated down to 120 hours of make-believe community service. A side note: In the neighborhood of make-believe, "community service" means getting drunk. Once King Friday XIII was soused, I was off the hook.

Here are two thoughts about your problem:

First, dressing yourself properly takes practice. Wear a hockey mask, close the lid on your fish tank, board up the windows, lock your children in their bedrooms, and PRACTICE!

Second, when you're old and senile like I am your aim deteriorates drastically. But remember, for us big-time TV stars, there's always special effects. I haven't thrown a shoe in twenty years. In the mid 80's after I killed three cameramen with shoes to the noggin, jugular, and 'nads, my brilliant staff created a gadget we called "shoe on a string" to float the little sucker from one hand to the other. Now, thanks to the magic of green screen technology, I toss a little green beanbag and they turn it into a shoe!

So if you never master shoe-tossing, consider pursuing a television career where they'll take care of that for you.

Hope you have a snappy new day, neighbor! (snap, snap)

Aim high,
Mr. Rogers

An Apology

Apparently, in this election year, making fun of the Republican candidate is inappropriate. To all those who were offended by the previous post, I apologize. My intent was not to offend, but to entertain. As such, if you were offended, it sucks to be you. Go get your mommy to put a band-aid on your fragile underdeveloped sense of humor.

Love,
Me

P.S. In an attempt to appease my wounded readership (if ANYONE is actually reading), my next guest columnist will be someone completely apolitical. Someone who wouldn't offend a fly...except perhaps with his shoe.

Ask Special Guest Columnist Sarah Palin

Dear Special Guest Columnist Sarah Palin:

I am a pregnant teenager who just ain't sure what to do. I'm not ready to be a mommy...or a mother...or a daddy for that matter. In fact, my lame-o boyfriend is such an dingleberry, I'm sure the baby is gonna come out with three heads and beer cans for hands. If the bees-tard bf wasn't so smooth in the sack, I'd toss him in the nearest snowbank. But mom seems to like him. What should I do about the baby? Should I tell my parents? Do you think they'll notice when I start showing? You've got to help me...what do I do?

Signed,
Wazzap in Wasilla


Dear Wazzap Wazza Wannabe Wasilla Wallflower (or whatever the hell pseudo-name-thingy you're going by today, Bristol):

As a former mayor who shoots wolves from an airplane and can see Russia from my patio, I have all the answers to any possible question. I'm glad you came to me for straight talk. So I'm going to ignore your question and talk about Mars. Mars is a planet. It's red, therefore communist. And if the truth be known, it's right next to Chicago, where Barack Obama is from, and I'm not sayin' he's a commie, but he IS a liberal which is practically the same thing. So a vote for Obama is a vote for red commies who want to take away Joe Sixpack's great American way of life, dagnabbit. And another thing: As a lipsticky maverik outsider hockeymom pittbull, I just want you to know that I'm definitely in support of opposing the elite liberal regime where if they don't do that or the other.

Love and snarls,
S.P. for V.P.

P.S. Bristol, you know that if you want to have a heart to heart with your ol' ma, you have to make an appointment with my administrative secretary like everybody else. No more of this folksy fakishness writin' letters and what to your doing in the peace and prosperity of maverik and also.

Introducing "Ask Anyone...Ever"

A few days ago...the day before Lisa decided to begin her advice , to be exact...I had a brilliant idea. What if the people who wrote (or called in) to Ann Landers, Dear Abby, Marjorie Proops, or Dolly Parton (in that movie Straight Talk) could get real advice. Something from a regular person...like a celebrity...who knows and understands their pain. Then I thought, what if all the voices in my head could get the same service. It was a stroke of brilliance! A blog where ANYBODY could ask advice of ANYBODY, living or dead. Ask Anyone Ever!

Then Lisa started her advice blog. Realizing great minds think alike, and knowing the mediocrity of my own mind, I felt compelled to ask Lisa what she was thinking. If, in fact, great minds DO think alike, and mine is merely mediocre, why am I thinking alike with a truly great mind? It occurs to me that the solution is that either this is a brilliant idea or Lisa's mentally slumming. Either way, not wanting to steal Lisa's thunder I offered to be a "guest columnist" on her blog and submitted a couple posts, channeling other great minds like Mr. Rodgers and Sarah Palin.

Lisa deemed both unsuitable for her (apparently) weak-stomached audience.

Well, boo on them. Boo on them all. So, given the fact that this advice is too important to be wasted on nobody (I mean, the idea wasn't "Nobody ask Anyone Ever") I feel compelled to Blog it myself. It is sincere wish that while I doubt anybody is actually reading anything, nobody will learn everything from anyone in this blog and everybody will...dammit, I'm confused.

Have fun. Ask questions...because if you don't, I will.