Thursday, September 9, 2010
http://www.slate.com/id/2266604/ (9/09/2010) <--- Original Prudie Letters Can Be Found There
Hey hidey-ho, Shippers! How in the hell are ya on this fine, fine Prudie Day? I hope that it’s a wonderful day for all of you and that this batch o’ letters brings a smile to an already-wonderful day. With that aim in mind, let’s get crackin’, shall we?
LW#1: Dear Prudie, I recently became engaged to a really nice guy, who’s, like, totally the most wonderful guy ever. We’ve had several nice showers, you know, because we’re so well-liked. We received all sorts of great stuff, including seed money for a new home, etc., etc., etc. (you know, normal stuff that all couples get at their many showers). The problem (‘cause you just knew there’d be one)? His former lover (a much, much older woman) gave us a very generous gift to be used toward our future child’s (children’s) education. Fifty thousand dollars! She’s very well off, Prudie, and can easily afford it, but, as you can well-imagine, I feel a little strange about accepting such a large amount of money from my fiancé’s former girlfriend. What should I do? Signed, Frugal Fiancée
Dear Fucking Idiot. You are a fucking dumbassed, stupid, ignorant, apparently extremely rich (or, more likely, money-ignorant) idiot. Someone is offering to give you what will amount to about $90 thousand dollars in 19 years (I’m assuming your dumb ass isn’t already pregnant and I’m certain that you aren’t going to raise any geniuses that need the money sooner than that, because, with your genetic material, that’s just not possible). And that figure is assuming you put the money in something super-safe, like government bonds, only earning 3%. Imagine if you got off your ass and actually added something to the pot along the way?! Fucking double dumbass. Across the sky. All the way.
LW#2: Dear Prudie, I’m a middle-aged woman working as a project manager in a male-dominated field. Through good work and ability, I’ve managed to prove to all of my co-workers that I am knowledgeable and capable, and they treat me as such. Except this one guy. Prudie, he throws papers on my desk. Literally. Every day. I’ve tried to joke it off. I’ve tried to be nice. I know that I can’t complain as I’d be seen as a whiner. I’ve handled the hazing of all of the other guys. What can I do about this one? Signed, Confused
Dear Not-So-Terribly-Good-With-People. You’ve handled hazing, eh? You fucking don’t know from hazing. Jesus Christ, how hard is this? You stand up to the mother fucker. You simply take those papers that miss your in-box and full-arm slide them into the trash, or, simply collect and shred them. Period. No production. No acknowledgment that what you’re doing is odd. If he asks what’s up, tell him, in a very business-like way, that that’s where they will go, Every. Single. Fucking. Time. And, that they'll go there without being worked, and that that's what will happen until such time that he learns to put the paperwork in its proper place. Don’t yell. Don’t scream. Just do it in a matter-of-fact, no-nonsence way. When asked by your superiors where the paperwork is, you say, “It never made it to my in-box.” And you stand your fucking ground. And Honey-schnookums, this is just kindergarten stuff.
LW#3: Dear Prudie. I’m a graduate student about to finish my doctoral degree. I teach, (adjunct, at my university), as well as wait tables, in order to make ends meet. I have a younger sister who’s also in school. She works three jobs to stay there. We both have student loan debt and barely make enough to scrape by, but, it’s worth it for the education as we know this is an investment in our future. The problem is our mother. She’s a recently laid-off secretary. She has no other skills and has no education past her GED. She lives far away and her finances are going to hell. My sister and I are worried sick, but aren’t yet in a situation to help. What can we do? Signed, A Good Daughter Who’s Almost Able to Help, Just Not Quite Yet
Dear Daughter, Thank you for this wonderfully refreshing letter, demonstrating that there is still some goodness left in the world. I wish that I could offer some better advice than Prudie did. I can’t. But, I can add a piece. Talk to your mom! Tell her that you’re worried! She’ll likely try to play it off. She’s obviously a hard worker who’s done the best she could while trying to raise two daughters to have it better than she has. But, don’t accept that without pushing a bit. Say that you know she’s proud, but that you’re wondering if there’s anything you can do to help? Maybe she can live with you and/or your sister for a time? The consolidation of bills might help you all? Look, I’m not saying this is ideal. I’m not saying it’s what you’ve hoped and dreamed for. Not for any of you. But, unfortunately, things are tough all around right now and we’re all having to reassess. I’m sorry about that, and wish it was different for all of us. But it ain’t. And, for what it’s worth, I’m sure that your mom is very, very proud. And thankful. Believe me, it’s most every parent’s dream to see their daughter have every opportunity in life to be all they are capable of being. And many of us don’t get to live that dream. You’re already giving her more than you know. All to your, your sister’s and your mother’s credit. Hang in there. You’re an inspiration.
LW#4: Dear Prudie. I recently “stumbled upon” a pill bottle that belongs to my boyfriend. Instead of putting it back where I “accidentally” found it, I tried to read it, but the label indicating the medication type had been peeled off. Not taking that as a hint, I went to a medication identification website and found out that he’s been taking Levitra (an erectile dysfunction medication)! Prudie, he’s only 24! I’m concerned! Why didn’t he tell me about this?! I want to be supportive! I want to help! Should I be alarmed? Does this mean his boners aren’t really because he’s happy to see me, but rather just because he’s chemically “enhanced”? Does it mean that they’ve all been...fake?! Signed, I’m Afraid
Dear Afraid. The solution is simple. Just figure out how you would want to have him tell you, if, say, your boyfriend, I don’t know, went into your purse, found a pill bottle for acne medication, researched it on the web, and became worried that you weren’t nearly as naturally pretty as he thought? This is all just manufactured fucking drama, you know? All you had to do was ask your BF what was in the bottle. But, you were afraid he’d lie. Or suspected it contained something illicit. So, no trust for him, eh? Or, what? You just like drama? As for advice, I’d say that you need to break up with this guy. You obviously don’t respect him or his boundaries, you don’t trust him, and, fact is, he shouldn’t trust you, either. There, happy? Good. Now, try not to get into the same bad place with your next significant other.
Well, Shippers, that about wraps it up. I hope that your week is filled with love and happiness and warmth. We could all use it! Fair winds and following seas to ya, one and all, Shippers!
Posted by SmagBoy1 at 9:58 AM