...on Alzheimer's Rules for Cheating

http://www.slate.com/id/2244313/  (02/11/10) <--- Original Prudie Letters Can Be Found There



Hey there shippers, and greetings to you all! How in the hell are you on this fine, fine Prudie Day? I hope that you’re well. I hope that life is treating you like a 1500 thread count bed set with a Siberian White Goose down comforter, lined in silk charmeuse. We could certainly do worse, yes? In the meantime, as we wait for those luxuries, let’s discuss these letters, shall we?

LW#1: Dear Prudie, I’m a principled man writing in today for a principled lady friend of mine. She knows how to write, and could certainly ask you on her own, as she is a vibrant, sensual, strong sex drive-having woman (and boy do we know how those women can write--just look at the supermarket checkout stand!), but, frankly, she doesn’t know that I’m writing to you about this, because, well, I’m just pretending this is all about her honor so that I can get some brownie points. Truth is, once things get going, I don’t plan on being around her too much during the daytime as her husband is such a downer. I’m just providing the stunt penis for this plot, Prudie. So, let’s just pretend this is all about her and her honor and that I’m all concerned about, and don’t want to sully, her good reputation. Okay? Okay. The deal is simple: her husband has Alzheimer’s and she and I want to bang each other like a jackhammer wants to pound cement. There is a war-necessitated separation story that I could talk about, lost love, other honorable, movie-inspiring caveats to our story since she and I last saw each other, and I could try to wrench sympathy out of you by mentioning them, but, really, the banging is the gist. Anyway, my lady friend’s question is this: is it permissible for her to ride me like a rodeo cowboy going for her 8 seconds of glory at the national championships, or would that be inadvisable seeing as she’s still married and caring for her husband? I mean, we’re going to have the sex either way, I’m just asking for the sake of being able to use your approval as moral grounds. Dear Buckling Bronco, since you and I both know that you two are already banging like a couple of college kids on ecstasy, why not let’s dispense with the bullshit. The only thing that you two need to worry about are your family and friends and making sure that they understand the situation. You certainly don’t need their approval for having the sex, of course, but, you may desire their understanding of the whole circumstance, especially in the coming years when you need them most. And a little discretion now can go a long way in the future toward that end. Happy trails, Pokey...

LW#2: Dear Prudie, I like a girl. I think she likes me. I don’t know. So, to complicate the issue and set precedence for myself that’ll be nearly impossible to maintain, I thought I’d splurge on a gift and card and have them delivered anonymously as a Valentine’s extravaganza! Then, I’d swoop in, let her know the stuff came from me and ask her out. How could that possibly go wrong?  In my mind, this will work something like those scenes from the “Twilight” movies where Edward takes off his shirt, all sparkly and manly, and Dippy Doodle Girly Poo gushes and then swoons. What say you? Do I have a chance? I hope that you’re a very young man with a pure heart and sincere intentions because, if not, I just suffered through that entire letter and subsequent puking episode for nothing. Assuming you are a real and sincere person, actually interested in this girl, let me tell you what works better than anything in the whole world: honesty. Sure, that flashy shit is great for a moment. And other people will advise you on how you can manipulate the panties right off of the Statue of Liberty if you follow their foolproof method of panty removal, but, I’m here to tell you that flowers fade and manipulation doesn’t last. Sincerity and honesty, though? Good combination with a lot more staying power. Just wait until after the Valentine's weekend because, as Prudie says, this holiday does weird things to some people, and then go up to her and ask her out. You can even tell her that you think she’s really wonderful and that you’ve been struggling with the best way to ask her out and that you just decided to go for it. If she likes you, she’ll like that. Trust me.

LW#3: Dear Prudie, my mom’s friend, “Alice” has never been married, but she does have several cats. Her age and cats are important to the plot, damnit! Anyway, Alice recently met a man, “Lying McDipshitty” who seemed very nice at first, and even asked her to marry him (after just a few weeks), but, my mom, Alice’s cats and I are concerned, Prudie. Lying McDipshitty has been telling Alice that he attended my alma matter, that he was a football star there, and, that he was drafted into the NFL. He also apparently became a fighter pilot instructor (that’s why he’s out of town every weekend). Finally, he claims to be very rich, but, because likes to keep his chi extracted every day, he works in a hardware store and keeps his money locked away safely so that he won’t spend it. I’ve done some Internet sleuthing, since that sort of thing is the purview of the young (you know, definitely under-40 crowd!), and found that Lying McDipshitty is actually a lying dipshit--not a single thing he’s said is true! I want to forward my findings to Alice via an anonymous e-mail account (again, because we youngsters know how to do that sort of thing) so she can be on guard against this obvious con man. My mom wants to wait. What should we and Alice's cats do? You know, when I was back in Nuclear Power School (and this is a true story, by the by) I had a classmate named Bowler (last name, obviously). He had the amazing good fortune of having done and accomplished everything Lying McDipshitty claims to have done, plus more. We eventually starting keeping a list of each of Bowler's exploits, only entering items on the list when they’d been heard by at least two different people (for airtight verification). At the end of school, the list was two pages long! We presented it to Bowler as a graduation present, explaining to him the rules of how we’d gathered the information, in the hopes that it might change him.  You know what? He looked at the list, then right at us and started going down the rows, item by item, explaining how each and every one of them was true, or how we'd obviously misheard him, and, adding new details! Boy, weren’t we ashamed! Well, no, not really. No shame. I was amazed by his sociopathy, though, I'll admit that. But, point is, Prudie nailed it. Give this woman the information you've found. Don’t be sneaky, be honest (plus, genius, you do realize that only a few people know of Lying and his proposal, what he's told Alice, and actually know Alice's e-mail address, and it won't be hard for her to figure, among those who do know everything who sent her the stuff, right?  I mean, her cats are cool and all, but they can't really send e-mail.  Just so you know.). If she’s pissed, say, “Alice, we just thought you should know” and then leave it at that. There’s not much else you can do, but, as for Lying McDipshitty? You don’t have to entertain his falsities at all. Ever. You can flat out call him out if he tries that shit on you.  You don't have to hold back for Alice's sake, or for your mom, or even for Alice's cats.  You don't have to hold back for anyone! And I encourage you not to.  He pulls a line on you, you call his ass out!

LW#4: Dear Prudie, have you ever heard that Southern phrase “I’m fixin’ to get ready to...”? Well, my boyfriend and I are in college and we’re fixin’ to get ready to think about considering making plans for a long-term commitment. At some point.  We have always been non-monogamous sexually, while being monogamous emotionally. I want that to change as we graduate and start considering thinking about making arrangements to plan for a wedding. I have a feeling he doesn’t want things to change at all, though. I don’t know if he does, because I haven’t broached the subject with him. How do I overcome this irrational idea that we should change our sexual habits just because we’re no longer going to be in college? Well, chicky-doodle, here’s what it boils down to: honesty. Talk to your boyfriend about what you’re feeling. I have a guess that he’s the super rational one and he’ll be all, “Judith, you know that’s not rational, you’re being sooo-o-o bourgeois!” And then you, being less rational, but thinking it a grand ideal to strive toward achieving, because you’re totally unsure of yourself and just starved for his approval, will be all, “But Seymour, you know I love you and I’d do anything for you, of course you can do whatever you like because my feelings are irrelevant!” And frankly, Judith, that’s just stupid. There’s nothing wrong with living however you like. And if you’d ever read Prudie before, you would have known that polyamory is just a road too far for her. You’ll never get good advice from her on the subject because, like your boyfriend, she can’t acknowledge that there are shades of gray. What you have to do is be in a relationship where you can express yourself honestly and feel good about it, regardless of what rules or boundaries you've set up previously, and regardless of how your feelings change over time. So long as you’re both happy and feel like you can respectfully discuss anything you want, it’s all good. That’s what you need to search for. If you can’t find that with Seymour Billingsly Rationalman III, find it with someone else. And as for the fixing to get ready to think about doing something? Knock it off and start living your life.

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Well shippers, that’s about it for this week. I’ve been craving some homemade fried catfish all week, or, whoa, maybe some trout! You just don’t know how good it can be until you’ve plucked it straight from the water, cleaned it, and plopped it in the pan, all smothered in cornmealy goodness within just fifteen minutes of that little feller having been happily swimming around with all of his buds. Oh, it’s a beautiful thing and it’s been far too long. Fair winds and following seas to you, shippers.