http://www.slate.com/id/2241429/ (01/14/10) <--Original Prudie Letters Can Be Found There
Hey there, Shippers! How in the hell are ya on this fine, fine Prudie Day? All here is well. It pretty much couldn’t be better, matter of fact. I mean, one single day’s difference in one direction or the other might prove to make it perfect, but, otherwise, this is pretty much golden. I hope yours is going as well. But, now that we have the niceties out of the way, why don’t we get to the real reason we’re here; to lay the smack down on some letter writers! Let’s get to it, shall we?
LW#1: Dear Prudie, my wife is great and beautiful and everything is perfect in my life, yaddah-yaddah, but....there are these two girls in the building across the way and they like to parade around in various stages of undress, and, well, I can’t help but look. What should I do? My wife and I have good naughty time together, but this is a whole other thing! Should I go over there and tell these girls what they obviously already know, that they’re putting on a nightly peep show? Should I then offer to pay them for the rocks I’ve tossed while inspired by their boudoir activities? Should I tell my wife what I’ve been doing? Help me Prudie because I can’t think of any other alternatives to solve this cataclysmic problem! Dude, I’m not sure who issued you your Adult Card, but you need to turn it in. Same with your Marriage Card. You’re far too immature to handle that serious a relationship. This is so much not a problem that I don’t know where to begin. First of all, these ladies know what they’re doing, or else they’re too stupid to realize it, and, either way, that means they don’t care. Second, you need to figure out your relationship with your wife and why you think it’d be a problem for you to be watching naked chicks out your window. Third, what about sex is "naughty"? Listen, do you turn away from the television when a shampoo ad is on? Do you cover your eyes as you walk by Victoria’s Secret in the mall? Married people share stuff like this. Next time you see this happening, call your wife over and say, “Oh my god, dude! Look at that!” Or, if she’s not home, when she gets home, say, “Hon, you are never going to guess what I saw! Right over there!” If she can’t handle that (and, conversely, if you couldn’t handle the same if she said it to you about the stud in 4B), you two have more problems to navigate than just a poorly lit apartment and a peep show.
#2: Dear Prudie, my wife and her sister used to be very close. Well, one day recently they were on the phone and just laughing away. When my wife hung up, I asked her what was so funny and she didn’t want to tell me, saying it was about something at her sister’s work and that my SIL had sworn my wife to secrecy (I work with my wife’s sister, by the way). Well, I wasn’t going to accept that, so, I weaseled the info out of my wife. She made me promise not to tell her sister, but, the very next weekend, because I’m a raving dumbass, I mentioned the secret information to my SIL. My SIL was mortified that my wife had told and she left! Well, personally, I blame my wife and her sister for this gale of a shit storm. My wife for telling me, and the sister for being such a heinous bitch. But, since my wife isn’t cooking dinner for me anymore, or giving me sex, I thought I’d try to be all magnanimous and stuff and fix things up between these two. You’re a chick, what can I do? Dude, I’m not sure who issued you your Adult Card, but, you need to turn it in. And marriage?! Holy shit, you fucking moron, how in the fucking hell can you blame this situation on your wife? You’re the fucking short bus reject who blabbed at the very first fucking opportunity that you got to the one single person in the world that you should not have blabbed to, and that faux pas came after you badgered your wife (I know, I know, it didn’t take any effort on your part to get the info from her. Thanks for that, you fucking shit stain. Way to go, throwing your wife under the bus like that by adding that info). Now, truth is, there is blame for the sister and your wife (beyond the fact that the sister allowed your wife to marry you, and besides the fact that your wife did), and that’s that they shouldn’t be letting one betrayed trust (especially with a spouse, shit-stain thas he is) ruin their relationship. And, if they’re going to? They have a lot bigger problems than that one broken trust and a dumbass, wife-throwing-under-the-bus, shit-stain, ball cheese-having husband/BIL, and that’s not anything that you can fix for them.
LW#3: Dear Prudie, for two years my husband begged me for a tarantula. After I got good and sloshed one night, I acquiesced and said that he could get one. Now I’m pregnant and will be delivering at some point in the next half year or so, and then, at some point within a few more years after that, the baby might knock the spider cage off the counter and the spider then, might, I don’t know, kill our baby. Plus, that damn thing gives me nightmares something terrible and it can shoot hair and shit out of its ass, and that's apparently quite poisonous. I want my husband to give up the spider. He says no. I say yes, and I’m right. Please tell him. I’m not even going to bother with revoking your Adult Card because it’s clear that you have never gotten past kindergarten. You know, that place where you blame everything in your life that you don’t like on other people or things. You acquiesced to your husband’s request, right? Oh, no, that was the booze and the fact that your husband had begged for two years. I see. You want the spider gone, but, you can’t bear to say that's the real root cause, so, now it’s about your unborn baby who, in a few years, if your husband is wildly careless (because it certainly won’t be your fault), might get hurt by this spider if about a bazillion things happen causing that injury? I see, so, you're uncomfortable and instead of trying to take any steps yourself to ease that discomfort, you’re blaming your husband’s stubbornness, the baby, the booze, and the spider hair? Okay, got it. The biggest problem you have is that you don’t know how to take responsibility for yourself and no one’s ever made you. If you were half an adult, you’d know that all you have to do to fix all of your concerns about the spider (except your own terror) is to put the cage on a shelf and put some clips on the cage top. That’s it. But no, that’s not good enough for you, is it? You want to blame the rest of the world for your mistakes. Poor baby. Everyone’s out to get you, aren’t they? You need to do some self analysis, sister, and to come to the realization that the world doesn’t revolve around your cute little drunk ass.
LW#4: Dear Prudie, I’m a law student and last summer went to do some intern work at a law office here in town. Well, on my first day, I was alone with the attorney and he began having very inappropriate conversations with me, asking about my personal life, telling me about his, etc. It was downright creepy all of this personal talk! So, that night I sent him an e-mail saying that I wasn’t going to go back. I didn’t explain myself or anything, I just said, “See ya!” Well, he’s been trying to contact me to find out what happened, but I haven’t returned his calls/e-mails/texts. What should I do? Holy fucking sad sighs. You Adult Card, and, your Law Card! Turn them in. Right the fuck now. And bring your husband’s for good measure because he’s an idiot, too. What you should have fucking done at the first moment you got uncomfortable, you amazing twit, is that you should have said, “Dude, I’m a little uncomfortable with this line of discussion. May I ask some questions about, you know, law instead?” I mean, to me, talking about personal life and asking about personal life is just friendly talking, but, I’m going to take your word for it that it was inappropriate. That being the case, just tell the guy what's up. Holy fuck?! I mean, is it that fucking hard? Just tell the guy. Say, “Dude, you made me way uncomfortable and all of these calls and texts aren’t helping. Please quit trying to contact me as I will not be coming back to work there and there’s nothing more to say.” Then, next time you find yourself in this situation, and it sounds like you certainly will, instead of imitating a clam, act like you wear big girl panties and say, “Whoa there, Mr. Creeper, let’s bring this conversation back to Worksville, okay?” Okay.
Well, shippers, it’s a sad, sad day when they let children go out and live in the real world, thinking that they’re adults. If I had a rubber hose and all of these LWs’ parents lined up, I’d smack each and every one of them in the head for inflicting their children on the world without first preparing them (or us). Sigh. But, hey, at least this was more fun than last week, eh? Have a great day, shippers! And, tomorrow’s Friday! What a beautiful thing! Fair winds and following seas to you all. Til’ next week....