http://www.slate.com/id/2223374/ (orig. 7/23/09) <---Original Prudie Questions Can Be Found There
Greetings shippers, and good day to you! I hope the week’s treated you well and that you’re all feeling shipshape on this fine, fine Prudie morning (which, as you know, is Friday Eve, and reason enough right there to celebrate). On first read, the letters this week are a bit too serious and real for my taste, which means I can’t be quite as submariner-y as I’d like, but, we’ll see how it goes. However, before getting to the letters, I’d like to send a special thanks to MLibbyDP for reasons that don’t need to be discussed here, but that are quite deserving of my personal, sincere gratitude. There’s a tour of the boat, three-hour Tiger cruise and an “Honorary Submariner” certificate with a picture of the boat signed by the captain waiting for you, MLibbyDP, should you desire any/all of them. ;-) That said, without further ado, the letters:
LW#1: Prudie, I’ve been married for 30 years and I thought it was a “happy”, “truly loving” relationship. However, it turns out that my husband is a gay, lying masturbator who is clearly incapable of love or happiness or any feeling deeper than what today’s gay lies will allow him to do tonight with some gay man at the gay health club he goes to, where he meets other gay men for what must clearly be gay sexual encounters. Our marriage and all of that love that I say I experienced was all a big gay lie, Prudie! All of the wonderfulness that I felt was imagined, obviously, seeing as he’s gay, and we all know that those people are only about gay sex up the butt with other gays as they can’t think of or do anything else, and now I’m at a loss for what to do? And Prudie, I’m not a man and don’t really like it in the caboose anyway and since gay sex is clearly the only way to make him happy (because that’s all the gays think about, Prudie--you know, gay sex), I’m at my wit’s end. Wow, okay, so, either you really were in a loving relationship with a man who might have been getting some ass on the side (gender of said ass should be entirely irrelevant), or, you are absolutely clueless about how things have been for the last 30 years. I’m not sure which it is, and, frankly, I don’t much care (I’ve been accused of being a misanthrope, though, so, don’t mind my apathy regarding this subject), but, you shouldn’t change your perspective on the last 30 years and how you’ve experienced them (in other words, your happiness) just because you suspect your husband prefers sausage for breakfast. Your husband’s gayness (or gay curiousness, or bisexuality) is irrelevant to what you should do. And that is, simply, what anyone should do if they think their spouse is cheating and/or lying to them. Talk it out and determine if you can trust them again and if you can and want to move forward. If so, try. If you can’t, leave.
LW#2: Prudie, I am a dipshit who doesn’t know how to address adult situations. My wife and our friends appear to be right on par with my level of dumb-assed fucktardedness, because, when faced with a friend who clearly didn’t know she was experiencing bleeding/spotting, we decided among ourselves that her “behavior [was] not acceptable.” I mean, who bleeds all over the house and doesn’t even offer to clean it up? Certainly not me! So, question is, to pay her back for her inconsiderate nature, may I go to her house and put poop in a bag, light said bag on fire by her front door, ring the doorbell, and then leave? Listen here you fucking social misfit, ballcheese-smelling-like, socially inept, dumbassed, snobby, effete, mental giant. I can’t even imagine how horrified this woman was when she discovered she’d been bleeding all over your house. But that’s nothing compared with how she must have felt seeing you and your friends look down your noses at her the rest of the weekend, you shit-stained judgmental mother fucker! Jesus Christ, I do hope you never invite her back. You don’t deserve to have people over. Or even to have friends. And that dumbass subtle thing Prudie suggested?! What?! Just very quietly say to her, without making a federal case out of it, “Jill, you’re bleeding.” Wow, tough, eh? Holy shit! Ever imagine that there are just all sorts of reasons she might not have noticed?! The list is too long to even address here. And you’re a dumbass.
LW#3: I cut and burned myself a lot when I was younger, mainly on my arms and thighs. It left scars. Now, when people see the scars they ask about them. I can’t seem to get them to just leave well enough alone when I answer that I’d rather not talk about it. Many people then “give me weird looks and avoid me.” What should I do? There’s a trend arising here around each week’s LW#3. I may have to just stop answering the third letter, because, here’s another very real problem and one that I don’t envy you for, LW#3. Ultimately, I hope that you can get to a place where you realize that anyone who gives you weird looks and avoids you isn’t worth your time, anyway. Seriously. They’re not! Just see that social retard, LW#2. Believe me, after I kicked that idiot squarely in the nuts, I wouldn’t think twice about him ever again. At all. I hope you get to that point, sans the nut kicking (because, if I’m honest, I wouldn’t actually kick him, either. I just say I would so that I can look all big and tough.). Prudie’s advice is right on target and her suggested responses are perfect. My apologies for not being more snarky to you. You deserve better. :-)
LW#4: My 18-year-old son had a smoking hot, freaking awesome girlfriend! I say “18-year-old son” because, even though I very purposefully didn’t mention the girl’s age, I don’t want you to suspect that I’m a pervert, you know, or to suspect that I might be checking out a minor girl’s smoking hot, tight, firm, agile, nimble, alert, limber, responsive, supple body... I wouldn’t do that! Honest! And I never masturbate, Prudie, ever! But, my problem is that, even now, after my idiot son allowed this relationship to go sour, thereby depriving me of the opportunity to live vicariously through him in between his girlfriend’s legs, I’ve been following her on Twitter. Is that wrong of me to do? Dude, I know that you’re kicking yourself for not installing video monitoring equipment in your son’s bedroom for use when the former girlfriend was around, particularly when changing to go swimming. I realize this letter could have been written from prison had that been the case, so, I give you points for that amount of control. Look, if she’s tweeting, you can read her tweets. But, you’d better be damned sure you recognize why your reading them. And trust me, it ain’t out of fatherly concern about how this girl is doing. Once you figure out the why (and you already know the why), you’ve got to figure out what to do about it. Are you willing to end your marriage to go find some new young hotty to replace your wife with? You willing to throw away the whole thing over lost youth? Really? Or, is it deeper than lost youth, and this girl is just a proxy for all that you feel you’ve lost because you’re actually in a bad relationship, and pretty much always have been? Or something in between? Only you can figure out what’s really going on and where to go next. However, before you make that decision, check out “American Beauty” and see if you can’t relate to Kevin Spacey. It may help.
Okay, shippers, that’s it for me. The boat’s been moored in a gorgeous lagoon this week, working on all manner of issues and greatly enjoying the view. Oh, wow, the view has actually been breathtaking. I’ve looked up at sunset and each night seen silky smooth, absolutely perfect wonder above the hem of the ocean and sky this week...(sigh)