...on Boinking the Professor

http://www.slate.com/id/2232269 (orig. 10/15/09) <---Original Prudie Questions Can Be Found There


Hey there shippers! How in the heck are ya?! I hope all’s going well in your neck of the woods and that you’re having a grand weekend! I’m going to re-address these letters because, frankly, the abbreviated column that I posted in The Fray was only meant as an appetizer for the real deal. If you’re here, that means that you followed our navigational charts and I hope to reward you for that effort with some scathing Smagsnarkery. So, without further ado, let’s get crackin’!

LW#1: Dear Prudie, I’m a senior in college and, when I was younger, I had an affair with a much older professor. He’s like 30 years old or something. Well, we broke it off and he’s now my advisor and all was peachy until I recently stuck my finger up my current boyfriend’s butt during fellatio. He was pretty shocked because he thought I’d only had one boyfriend, back in high school, and he was pretty sure I hadn’t learned that move back then. He immediately asked me if I’d had any other partners! Out of fear for the ruination of my as yet non-existent career, I blurted out, “no!” Now what do I do? If I tell him the truth, I’ll lose him. How can I clear the air without full disclosure? Oh my god! You’re a senior you say? In high school? No? In college?! Holy shit. Where, some college for the extremely mentally challenged and/or legitimately brain-damaged? Good gravy, woman, why on Earth did you lie? What would have been wrong with saying, “Well, one or two over the last few years...”?

First off, let’s get on thing perfectly straight, Ms. I Wish I Was Adult Enough To Have Real Worries: you don’t have a career. Got that? You likely haven’t worked a day in your life, and you damn sure have never had to think too hard. That’s obvious! But, because you’re young, and still learning (even though you are an adult and ought to know better), I’m going to give you a break. The only thing you owe your boyfriend (any boyfriend) is to not lie to him. You certainly do not owe him full disclosure about your past sexual partners, or any other details of your past. At all! The idea that you owe a list to him (or anyone), if you don’t want to give it, is antiquated, controlling and irrelevant (with the obvious exception of STDs and, even then, you don’t owe names or details, only the fact of the disease). So, since this is weighing on you, you need to come clean and tell him you lied in the heat of the moment. Tell him you were worried he’d think badly of you. But don’t, under any circumstances, tell him any details that you don’t want to. Your past is your past. Not his. He doesn’t own you now, and certainly didn’t then (nor you, him, btw). You owe him the truth in the present, but that’s it. I remember once at age 16 chastising a girlfriend for something she did at the age of 13. That’s about the age this sort of bullshit should stop (and, for the record, it wasn’t even acceptable then). Remember that fact. Good luck, and, if you lose this guy, think of it as a lesson in why not to lie. You’re an adult now. Start acting like one.

LW#2: My wife and I have a two-year-old daughter. She’s cute as a button! She calls her grandma “Nana”. My wife’s brother and his wife have a three-year-old son who calls his other grandma “Nana”, but the in-common grandma “Grandma.” The BIL and SIL are afraid that my daughter’s use of the name “Nana” for the in-common grandma will confuse their precious little snugglebumkins. They’ve confronted us and even called on the phone and gotten quite nasty about this fact! They demand that we cause our daughter to call the in-common grandma by the name their son has chosen. What do we do? Wow. Seriously, man. Wow. What kind of motherfucking, ass-munching, butt-licking, fucked-up, backwards, shit-stained assholes are these people?! Is this letter serious? I mean, seriously serious? This has got to be a fake, right? Listen, here’s what you should do. Absolutely nothing. At all. We’re talking about a two and three-year-old here! Have your BIL and SIL never heard of different kids calling the same person by different names? As The Sage so aptly asked in her weekly offering of sagely sagery, how does this kid reconcile other kids calling his parents Aunt and Uncle Asshole when all he knows them as is Momma Asshole and Daddy Asshole? If he can handle that difference, he can surely digest the Nana/Grandma divide. Holy shit on a corn tortilla!

LW#3: My boyfriend’s dad’s new wife has told my boyfriend’s younger brother that he should not “be selfish” in his college choice like my boyfriend and their older sister were in picking expensive colleges and then working in cruddy jobs after. She indicated that it’s just not fair to my boyfriend’s dad, who has funded college for my boyfriend, his older sister, and now plans to do the same for their younger brother. My boyfriend wants to confront the gold digging wench. What should he do? Well, first off, that’s your boyfriend’s business, not yours. Why isn’t he writing in to Prudie? Or, on second thought, why isn’t he just talking to his dad and this woman? Or, on third thought, why does he even give a shit? I mean, what’s he going to say to her, “You’re wrong! We work in great jobs, you meany mean person?!” All that does is acknowledge and empower her asshattery. What ought to have happened is that the younger brother ought to have said something to dad directly and immediately, dad ought to have grown a pair and set this lady straight, and, that’d then have been that. Your boyfriend engaging this woman now only empowers her and it doesn’t sound like she needs any more empowering. In the end, little bro should go wherever dad is willing to send him, and be grateful for the ride! And your boyfriend needs to let it go. This isn’t his fight and you should both just thank god that he doesn’t have to live with this bitch. I used to have to deal with her when I was growing up and trust me, it’s no fun.

LW#4: I’m in a wedding party and went to a bachelorette party that I feel I paid too much for and, as I’m pregnant, I want that money back for my baby because otherwise I may not be able to afford diapers or formula. Yaddah, yaddah, yaddah, a whole slew of other wholly unimportant details that just demonstrate what a clueless, out-of-touch twit I am, yaddah, yaddah, yaddah. What should I do? Nothing. You’re an idiot. I’m hoping that this entire letter is just due to your hormones being all wack-a-doodle because you’re pregnant or postpartum. You shouldn’t have paid for entrance to a bachelorette party in the first place if you couldn’t afford it. If you could afford it, but are now pissed about the shittyness of the party, then you just learned a valuable life lesson. Or not. That’s your choice, but, in the end, what are you going to gain from this? Your $60 back? Or, no, you’re after your dignity, aren’t you? Well, hon, you won’t get that back from the bachelorette party people. They don’t have it, either. Never did.

****
Well there you go, shippers! I’m officially all caught up! I had to dig deep into the snark reserves to do three week’s worth of letters in three days, but, I didn’t want to disappoint. This is the opening of The Fly, and I want to make it an incredible one! Please browse around and check out the other writers. You’re familiar with them all, I’m sure. Please spread the word, and, most of all, feel free to comment at any time! I love the feedback. Fair winds and following seas to you all, and see you here this coming Thursday!

...on Big Penises!

http://www.slate.com/id/2231720 (orig. 10/08/09) <---Original Prudie Questions Can Be Foud There


Hey there shippers! How in the hell are you this fine, fine Saturday Day? I realize it’s not a fine, fine Prudie Day, officially, but can’t Saturday be just as fine a Prudie Day as Thursday? And, since I’m just now getting to this set of letters, I think it’ll work just fine for us, eh? :-) So, how do you guys like our new lagoon, “The Fly”? I think it’s wonderful! Thanks again to everyone who made it possible, and thanks to you guys from coming over here and reading our stuff (please feel free to tell your friends)! But, enough of that. It’s the letters you want, right? So, with that in mind, here we go...

LW#1: Prudie, I’ve got a huge dick. No, I didn’t say that I am a huge dick; I said that I have a huge dick. Let’s not mix words here. No puns. No dick jokes. Okay? Okay. My problem is not my dick (obviously). It’s my wife. She likes to tell her friends, her acquaintances, people she meets in the checkout line, kids on the street, phone solicitors, the handyman, etc., that my dick is just huge. I’m not kidding about this! She tells everyone. And, even though I’ve asked her to stop, she says that because she’s being complimentary, she shouldn’t have to. What can I do, short of just accepting her happy over-sharing? Well, dude, it’s not your fault that you’ve hit the genetic version of Power Ball. So, I’m not going to waste your time with some excellent dick jokes because I know that you’ve heard them all already. Just like blondes have to hear every blonde joke ever told. But dude, I’ve got so many dick jokes, it’s going to be difficult to resist. But I shall.

Listen, you’ve got two choices here. First, you can act like an adult and explain to your wife that her over-sharing bothers you and that you’d appreciate her restraint on the subject. Unfortunately, you’ve already tried that route and it didn’t work. So, now you’ve got to pull out the big guns (no pun intended). Prudie’s on the right track with the nipple advice, but, after you’ve asked your wife nicely and she hasn’t stopped, you’ve got to show her how it feels. And starting in the shallow end won’t cut it. So, next time you’re around your friends and your wife is in earshot (or sitting right there), say, “Guys, you know, I’m the luckiest guy in the entire world. As you may know, I’m pretty well-endowed. I’m not bragging or anything.  It is what it is.  But, in my wife, I’ve found a woman who can take my entire member! And then some! She loves it! Listen, I’m not saying she’s loose. Or cavernous. Or that there’s an echo or anything! I’m just saying that she can take it all and wants more. What a great thing! Most girls run and hide, but she actually likes it!  All of it!” She can’t protest, either. After all, she’s all but already verified every word of this with her loose lips (again, no pun intended). I mean, you’re saying something nice about her, right? You may have to sleep on the couch for a few nights, but, I’m guessing she won’t talk about your dick any more.

LW#2: Dear Prudie, my wife and I are insufferable twits. We aren’t sure how to handle our three-year-old’s tantrums about putting on his jacket, so we’ve decided to write in to the Internet Lady (that’s you) to help us. See, thing is, our son doesn’t want to wear his jacket. At all. He throws an absolute hissy about it when we try to put it on. We don’t want to give in to him, though, because then he’d have the upper hand on us! My parents think we should beat his little ass and tell him to put on the fucking jacket or else! But, my wife and I don’t want to do that, either. We will if you say, so, but we don’t want to. So, we worry. A lot. We’re thinking of putting him on Ritalin. Is there any alternative? Holy shit, if ever there was a poster case for the licensing of parents prior to child rearing, this is it. Okay, no, that’s too harsh. At least you’re asking for help. So you’re not the poster case. But, dude, wake up! Something is obviously bothering him about the jacket. It doesn’t take a fucking genius to figure out that he doesn’t want to wear it. So, don’t make him wear it. You’re smart enough to form sentences and use a computer, so, surely you’re smart enough to figure out some other clothing options without making it seem to world and him look like he got one over on you. Sigh. Prudie’s suggestion of a sweat shirt or sweater is a great start. You could even put a blanket in the car and offer him the choice of his jacket, a sweater, or the blanket. You tell him that he has to use one of the three, but that the choice is his. It ain’t rocket science, dude. Remember, you’re smarter than him for now. Or should be. Use that fact to your advantage. It doesn’t sound like it’s going to last long, so you’d better do it now while you still can.

LW#3: Prudie, my parents are broke. Worse than that, they’re in crippling debt. I like to pretend this is all about my father because he’s the one who lost his job and borrowed a bunch of money from the bank and stole money from my uncle and my mom, but, fact is, it affects both of them. Why do I only talk about my dad when I mention this?  I don't know.  Further, the only reason I even know any of this is because my mom told me, then immediately swore me to secrecy. My dad keeps giving me gifts and paying for things. I feel really bad. Especially because now I don’t even respect him anymore. What should I do? Wow, what a dysfunctional nutroll this shit is! Listen, the first thing you need to do is explain to your mom that you left middle school behind years ago and that you aren’t going to play the I’m-going-to-tell-you-this-secret-but-don’t-tell-so-and-so game. You don’t need that. At all. Second thing is, you’ve got to stop accepting things from them. Period. I don’t give a shit if they try to force gifts on you, you stop them! I quit accepting over-generous gifts from my parents at about age twenty. After that, if I needed help and they offered, I paid them back. In full. You need to adopt the attitude that you’re a functional adult and act like it. Finally, if you’re worried about their financial future, you could put money aside each month, if you can (but only if you can--you going into debt to help them doesn’t help anyone in the long run). Don’t give the money to them directly, but, keep in touch enough to know if they’re in need. If, for example, their car needs new tires, just go out and get the tires. Don’t ask. Just do it. When they protest, say, “You’ve always been so generous with me, now that I have a chance, and can, I want to return the favor.” Finally, this shit about not knowing if you can now respect your dad? Fuck off. That’s bullshit. We all make mistakes. Be big enough to understand that your dad is just a human being and recognize that he was never perfect. He, like you, was just doing the best he could. Sorry you had to learn this way that your dad’s a normal guy. That’s life. Get over it.

LW#4: Prudie, I recently broke up with my boyfriend and, though I don’t want to talk with him anymore, I just love his mom. And I want to keep in touch. Should I send her a note, asking if we can keep in touch? Is that wrong? Let’s see. Do you like her? Does she like you? Well enough that you feel you can actually talk about things like real live adults? Well enough that her absence in your life will hurt you? If so, you’re an idiot if you can’t just call her up and say, “Hey Joy, how are you?” That’s it. Easy. No mention of “I so hope we can stay in touch!” like you’re in some sort of damned chick flick. Just call. But, no mention of the son. Ever. You don’t say a word about him. You don’t ask about him. If she ever brings him up, you say, “Joy, I love you. I think you’re incredible and I love that we can be friends, but, I think it’s best we leave conversations about John out of the relationship. That way we don’t ever have to worry about motives, games, issues, etc. I hope we can do this because I really value your friendship.” I figured all of that out in about thirty seconds and I don’t even know the woman! Is being a grown up really so hard, or are you still in middle school and writing about your elementary school boyfriend? If you are in middle school, my hat’s off to you for being right on target. If you’re an adult, though, grow the fuck up and actually be an adult. I mean, really!

****
Well shippers, that’s it for another week’s worth of letters. I’m almost caught up! Woohoo! So, I’m liking this new lagoon more and more. I hope you are, too. Did you see that my diving buddy, Mermaid, has joined us? That makes the move here to our new lagoon all but complete. I hope that you’ll check back regularly and spread the word about The Fly and all the great stuff here. I have one more column to do and then I’ll be on schedule for an every-Thursday post in response to Prudie. Thanks for reading! Write in and tell me how I’m doing and offer feedback if you want things to be different (just add a comment after this post). This column is for you, so, feedback is always welcome. Fair winds and following seas to you all, shippers!

...on Dad's Love Child

http://www.slate.com/id/2229767/  (orig. 9/29/09) <---Original Prudie Questions Can Be Found There


Hey there shippers! How the hell are ya? I know this is late. I know that it’s in a new location. I know that I was gone for a couple of weeks. I apologize. I really do. But sometimes, life’s just that way. Truth is, as I was moving the submarine to patrol new waters, we lost all coms and we’re only just now surfacing in what was once The Fray. What a shame what’s happened there. But, all is not lost! Oh, far from it! Seems Schuyler and Messy and Mermaid and SeoulSister and IncogNeato and Dumb_Blonde and SpaceCadet and MistPanther have been hard at work on this wonderful new home, The Fly! My cover (hat) is off to them all, in a hardy and well-earned salute! But, lest I forget why we’re here, let’s get to these letters! I’ve got some catchin’ up to do!

LW#1: Dear Prudie, my dad had an affair some years ago and a child was born as a result. My dad told broke off the affair and told my mother all about it. They worked through it and stayed married, but, they didn’t tell me or my sister about any of this. Now that our half-brother is a teenager, my dad laid this news on us. To make it worse, my dad’s been seeing this little bastard all along! And taking him on vacations and stuff! And he’s even taken the little shit to see our grandparents--with our inheritance money! My dad wants things to now be all hunky dory since he’s come clean with us (because we do have a right to judge, you know), but my sister and I are, well, pissed off. How can we tell our dad that he sucks eggs and that we don’t want to be nice to him anymore (although, we do want our inheritance)? Okay, so, let me get this straight. Your dad did what, exactly, to you and your sister? Didn’t tell you that you had a younger half-bro? Well, you two don’t seem to be tripping over yourselves to be decent big sisters, so it must not be that. Hmmm, what else? Are you pissed because he cheated on you? No, that’s what he did to your mom, not you. Hmmm? Oh! He lied to you by omission! Okay, yeah, that’s it. So, what are you going to do about it? Sure, it sucks. A little. Big fucking deal. People are getting their limbs blown off by bombs while they’re on their way to go shopping. You and sis need to grow the fuck up and recognize that you aren’t the only, or even most vulnerable, “victims” here, you self-absorbed little shits. Jesus H. Fucking Christ! Oh, and, by the way, how do you tell your dad things won’t go back to how they were? How about telling him that right about the time you two are living perfect, blame-free lives. Kay? And, too, don’t tell him ‘til your ready to not taking any money from him for a car or college or in inheritance either. Just sayin’.

LW#2: A long time ago, when I was another person, I stole $3,000 from my employer. Upon being confronted, I got a lawyer and beat the rap (though I was fired, which, in retrospect, was pretty fair I guess). Now that I’m an upstanding citizen, though, I feel really bad about this theft. What should I do? If you’d have just read your E. A. Poe when you were growing up, you’d have known this was going to happen. Crime doesn’t pay! Listen, I’m not going to slam you. What’s the point in that? All you have to do is figure out who was financially hurt by your theft. Was the money from someone’s account? Was it someone’s personal money? Is there any way to identify who you hurt? If so, draft a money order from a 7-11 or some other untraceable place and pay back the money, with, say, 7% interest per year. If the money loss didn’t hurt a person, but rather the business as a whole, find out what charity the business supports, or find a worthy charity on your own. Give them the money, yes, plus the interest (don’t get cheap now Mr. Happy Fingers!). You’ll feel better. Honest. As for the lawyering up, just pretend it was your young Kennedy phase. If you still feel guilty, run for Senate next term. Trust me, if you win and have to put up with that shit, your conscious will be clear.

LW#3: Dear Prudie, my sister is a horrible heinous bitch who abused me as we grew up. Physically, emotionally, all the time. I’m over her now. No, honest, I really am! I’ve even broken off all contact with her. But, for some reason, she wants to be buds now. My mom even went so far as to give my sister my e-mail address. Now my sister wants to get together when I got to visit my mom for the first time in years. My mom endorses this plan. If I refuse, it’ll hurt my mom. What do I do? Well, first off, you know that no matter what you say, you sister is going to be there at your mom’s place when you show, right? If you didn’t already know that, you’re a dipshit. But dipshittedness is curable. Listen, your mom is manipulating you and guilting you and treating you poorly. Perhaps not in a way as direct as your sister did, but she is doing it and you shouldn’t take it! So, you need to “get over” your mom, too. Except for real. Put on your big girl panties and tell your mom in no uncertain terms, “Mom, listen here, my sister is an abusive terrible fucking bitch! You let her shit all over me growing up. I.WILL.NOT.TAKE.IT.ANY.MORE. If you ever, and I mean ever, give her my contact info again, you will no longer have my contact info. Have I made myself perfectly, 100%, crystal clear?” You won’t say that stuff because you’re not actually over your sister like you think you are. So, what you really need is counseling. But, my method will work if you’ll just try it and mean it. Trust me. You can take out the cursing if you want, but you have to keep the attitude. That’s the important part.

LW#4: Prudie, my husband has lost a bunch of weight, is looking super hot, and has been in constant contact with an ex-girlfriend. Clearly. I mean, holy shit, it’s right there on his cell phone and on his Facebook and on the cell phone bill. He denies the contact. He says underwear gnomes are doing it all. What should I do? Um. Are you really asking? Seriously? Or are you just playing around. Because, if I were you, I’d be getting my coochie checked for visitors. Seriously. Because I guarantee you that your husband is dipping his shilalie in more than one pot. There, does that shake you out of your ridiculous stupor, you fool! Your husband’s cheating on you! Plain and simple! Holy shit! What, do you think he’s just going to up and tell you? Woman, you’ve got the proof. Right there in your fucking hands! Get a lawyer. That’s what you should do.

****
Okay, shippers. How was that? Worthy of the new home or no? You can tell me. I can take it. ;-) It was a tough batch of letters, so, here’s hoping that the next batch that I missed will be more fun. I hear that one of them has to do with a giant penis?! Now, the last bit of business here in the new waters is to figure out how to lure a mermaid here to my new digs here at The Fly... I mean, what good’s a submariner without a guide? Do mermaids like fried fish? Catfish, maybe? Or, oh, what about roasted chicken on tortillas?! Send your thoughts in and let’s see what the consensus is. Until next time, shippers, fair winds and following seas to you all...

...on Revealing His Sex Doll Fetish

http://www.slate.com/id/2229334/ (orig. 9/24/09) <---Original Prudie Questions Can Be Found There


Greetings, shippers, and a hardy “How the hell are ya?!” to each and every one of you. And, by the way, happy Prudie Day! Other than a day of slightly choppy seas yesterday, I’ve had such a wonderful week in the lagoon, communing with the local sea creatures as they frolic in the mist, sipping tea, enjoying myself, that I almost hate to look at the letters today because they’re sure to disrupt this blissful tranquility and happiness. But, as it’s what we do here, let’s get to it!

LW#1: I’m not thinking straight. At all. I was engaged to be married to some guy that I barely know, but he left me just one month before our wedding because, get this, he couldn’t handle my grief over my mother’s unexpected death! He even went so far as to call my father “a drama queen” for how my dad reacted! During all of this, at the height of my grief, I found out (via snooping in his e-mail) that my fiancé engages is doll sex play. Because of what he’s done to me, I want to e-mail the proof of his heinous perversion to all of his friends and contacts. Please talk me out of it “as I would very much like justice to be served”. Wow, that last sentence is a dichotomy if I’ve ever seen one! You might want to analyze it and figure out what you really mean. Look, you’ve got two issues here (at least), and they are not related to one another. First and foremost, you need to put to rest the idea of sending out this information to your ex’s friends and contacts. I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but you snooped in his personal stuff, and that puts you squarely in the wrong. No! You don’t get a free pass due to your mom’s death or his assholery! I don’t want to hear shit about your mom dying as it relates to you finding out this information. Your mom’s death is irrelevant to this. To send the information to your ex’s contacts would be little and petty and über evil and unless you are an evil, shitty, manipulative, truly small person, you’ll long regret doing it. Second, on a completely different note, you need to recognize what a favor this guy has done for you by revealing himself to be an idiot prior to your wedding. No, not because you think he’s a pervert (which, there’s no indication that he is, btw), but because he’s an asshole if he can’t figure out that people need to grieve unexpected deaths. And also because he clearly has no issue with belittling you and your family, which speaks to respect and so many other character flaws, that, frankly, you should have already known about. Don’t think of it as losing a fiancé. Think of it as gaining a future. And with that future, I’d suggest getting to know someone well enough before getting married so that you know how they’ll treat you when you’re down. And, too, so that you’ll know if their sexual habits will offend you. Finally, and this is important, don’t ever threaten to send information like that to someone’s contact list. That’s the kind of shit that needs to stay in middle school where it belongs (and it’s out of place there, too, just in case you were wondering).

LW#2: I recently married the perfect man! He’s so wonderful and perfect and great and incredible, and...he has an 18 year old daughter who he’s spoiled completely rotten. I want to be a positive influence on her. Her mom was never around (hiss-hiss) and I think I can swoop in and provide some strong maternal and adult influence. I think she needs my help and support to be a better person (even though I have no parental experience). What should I do? Hmmm, an 18 year old. With her own life and habits and ways of living and relating to the world. Here’s a suggestion for what you can do: nothing. You are not her mom and you hold absolutely no authority over this girl. Nor should you! The only thing you can control is her interactions with you and yours with her. As adults. You need to treat her like an adult. Period. That’s it. You show her respect and expect it from her. But it’s not for you to judge how she interacts with anyone else. Especially your husband. Did you get that last sentence? You need to turn a blind eye to their relationship because you have no rights in it. As for you doing things for her because she feels entitled? Ha! Next time she rudely expects something of you, you can simply explain that you do not respond to entitlement and that you are neither her mom nor her servant, but, that if she respects you, you’ll happily help her when you can, just as you will expect from her. Beyond that, good luck. You’re gonna need it.

LW#3: I am a divorced mom with three kids. My ex is a worthless piece of shit. My kids lead very active lives and, except when I’m at work, I’m there for them, 24/7. There are all sorts of after-school things going on and weekend competitions, gifted classes and board meetings with the PTA, etc. That’s not my problem, though, and other than the divorce, three kids and shitty ex, I just listed that other stuff to show how involved I am and how great my kids are. My actual problem is that my boss says to me that my situation inspires him because he realizes, by looking at my life, that his could be so much worse. This kind of statement offends me because, well, my life doesn’t suck! What should I do? Well, first thing I’d do when he says that shit is to ask for a raise! But, really, what question are you asking? Yes, you’re in a shitty situation what with the dead beat dad and the busyness, but, the busyness is on you, so you can’t claim that. The main thing is dad not helping support your kids. Which sucks ass. And I’m with you. But your question? Really? Is it that hard? Just say, “Boss, my life is hard, but I like it. A lot. I have great kids and an enjoyable life. You could certainly make it better with a generous raise or bonus, but, either way, please don’t use me as your inspirational example of a shitty life. I think I do pretty well and it actually hurts my feelings when you do that.” Was that so hard?

LW#4: My mom made me a great quilt as a wedding present when I was married the first time. She embroidered my wife’s and my name on the back. The marriage didn’t last and the quilt was never used, but, now that I’m happily married to someone else, I’d like to use the quilt. The problem is the names on the back. Short of asking my mom to make a new quilt, what can I do? You really are just a huge, incredible dumbass aren’t you? Just ask you current wife to change her name to your ex-wife’s. There, solved. No, just kidding. There’s a thing called a seam ripper that you can buy for about a dollar. You give that and the quilt to someone with some experience, and, about ten minutes later, holy shit, your problems will be solved. Do it yourself and you may make a mess, but you’ll figure it out...oh, no, wait, we’ve already determined that you’re dumbass, so don’t do it yourself. Oh, here’s a freaking thunderbolt of an idea! Ask your mom (or someone else with an embroidery machine--in order to save time) to embroider new names on a piece of fabric that matches the quilt back, and ask her, or someone else, to blind stitch the patch right over the old names. Amazing! In case you’re wondering, that’s a minimal effort, too. Might put you out $20 or so if you hire a seamstress to do it. Or, unless your new incredible wife is into drama, why not just use the quilt as is?

****
Well, shippers, I guess that’s it. I’m transferring lagoons after this week. Communications Division tells me that, due to the time zone change and setting up new coms, etc., there may a delay (or possible interruption) in normal transmissions and sea-grams. Here’s hoping the change will cause only minimal interruptions. Have a good one, shippers. Fair winds and following seas to all of ya. ‘Til next time...

...on Dead Hamsters

http://www.slate.com/id/2228493/ (orig. 9//17/09) <---Original Prudie Questions Can Be Found There


Ahoy there shippers! How in the hell are you all on this fine, fine Prudie Day? Fall is a beautiful time of year, isn’t it? The evenings are cooler, the morning mist lasts longer and longer and my early tea tastes that much better when sipped from the conning tower, peering across the misty lagoon, enjoying the cool breeze, welcoming in the day. But, even though I enjoy this time of day, and I sincerely do, we have work to get to, so, let’s get crackin’!

LW#1: Dear Prudie, I’m a man with a lot of emotional problems (or life stressors, or family issues, or, just something), because, golly gee willikers, even the smallest things in life seem to be insurmountable anymore! Recently, my two kiddos (five and six years old) accidentally killed their pet hamster. I’m devastated over this loss. To the point of being unable to sleep and actually crying about it. I lied to my kids, telling them that the vet had let their hamster go play with Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH. But, now everyone’s calling me a bastard and accusing me of lying to my kids, which, of course, is getting me quite depressed and I’m thinking I may have another two-day crying jag over it all. Prudie, “I find it absolutely abhorrent to think of my children discovering that they were responsible for their pet's death.” What can I do? Holy smokes! Dude, are you some sort of fart-holding, no-crotch-scratching, manicure-and/or-pedicure-getting, way-too-in-touch-with-your-feminine-side, effete, pansy? No, that doesn’t work at all because it’s an insult to femininity! Listen up and hear me good because there are two kids at stake here: you need help. You’re not dealing with your emotions very well at all! It was a fucking hamster, dude?! Get a grip! And yes, you are projecting. Big time! And unless you want your kids to be as emotionally fucked up as you currently are, you need to get that help soon. I don’t know if this is normal for you or if you’ve recently divorced or lost your job or there’s been a recent death in your immediate family (which may explain this, maybe), but your emotional gauge is way out of whack, dude, and you need it recalibrated. Your responsibly to your kids is to let them know that there are consequences for their actions. You place a rock on a hamster and jump on it, the hamster will die. Your statement to them only caused them to dream of bigger rocks and sending more hamsters to play with super-intelligent rats. Stop the cycle. Get help.

LW#2: Dear Prudie, my boyfriend has a “prestigious” job that keeps me in the latest fashions, driving the best cars, eating in the finest restaurants, and traveling to the most exotic destinations. All I have to do is get off a piece of ass now and then. Now, okay, he’s a “retarded, selfish” pothead drunk, but, fact is, I can overlook that because he keeps me quite well off. If I didn’t have him, I’d be like Cinderella, slaving away, having to live with roommates making far less than I deserve and the nicest thing I’d ever eat would be from the (shudder) grocery store. Whatever shall I do? Listen here you spoiled little shit-for-brains whore. Yep, I said it, whore. What, you going to challenge that classification? Didn’t think so. Because you can’t. Further, you’ve managed to insult in your letter anyone who’s ever worked for anything in their life (which includes those who stay at home and actually contribute to a household with sweat and time and energy and effort while their significant others goes out to win the bread, unlike what you do, which is, what, keep yourself pliable for Mr. Dillweed Goodjob?). This isn’t about your dipshit boyfriend. Who gives a shit about him? He’s a fuckwit of the nth order. This is about you and your entitlement. You want advice? Learn what it’s like to actually work for a living. Learn what it’s like to actually earn what you have. Do that and you’ll never ask such a ridiculous, dumb-assed, fucked up (although very self-illuminating) question again. I promise. Want inspiration? Look to LW#4. Think she’ll ever whore out herself like you?

LW#3: Dear Prudie, I recently got promoted over several folks, two of whom are my good buddies. Problem is, my buddies don’t do any work, at all. They come in late, they act like pissers to our customers, and, in the end, my boss wants me to let him/her know about the performance of all those working under my charge. I don’t want to rat on my friends, but, I need to do something. What do I do? (Ah, back to putting the real letter in slot #3, I see) Okay, this sucks, but, it’s one of life’s lessons that you have to learn. And the sooner, the better. You can’t always be friends with the people who you supervise. Sometimes you can, but, sometimes you can’t. These two may likely be in the latter category. The answer is as simple as the nose on your face, though. You have to talk to these two, tell them that you have to report to your boss what everyone does. Tell them you’ve received complaints about them, and list their other offenses for them. Tell them you know that you’re friends, but that you not reporting their behavior is a threat to your own job (which, by the way, it is), and that they need to shape up. Tell them what you expect. You don’t have to be specific with your boss when you first report that you have a couple of folks you’re dealing with. Just let him/her know that you’d like a little time to get everything shipshape. Sometimes this behavior is normal testing of a new boss (especially a friend), sometimes it’s just who a person is. Did you act this way before your promotion? I hope not, because, if you did, you’ve got a long row to hoe as that behavior will be thrown in your face by your “friends”. Good luck!

LW#4: Dear Prudie, I’m a 16-year-old girl and I work in a super market shagging carts (no, Brits, not that kind of shagging!). Adults frequently make comments to me about how “girls shouldn’t be out in this heat getting carts” or “shouldn’t boys be doing this” or “I’m going to complain to your manager about the fact that you have an actual job, little missy!” It makes me angry that they say these things, but I feel I have no recourse as I’m a minor and adults get angry when I confront them. What should I do? There are two things at work here. First is that they think they’re being friendly and looking out for you. I know that’s not how it feels, but, I promise, they’d be shocked to hear that you’re insulted. Second, though, is that they’re backwards, fucknut, sexist, idiots. Yes, we as a society want women to grow up feeling like the sky’s the limit. We’ve had women astronauts! We’ve got female CEOs! Female professors, Nobel Laureates, presidential candidates, but, by golly, we can’t have females doing any actual labor (ironic, no?). Shagging carts is too hard!

You can tell them that you like to think of yourself as the Rosie the Riveter of the super market. They’ll like that. I promise. You can tell them that you believe that everyone has to work their way up in any organization and that you want to be the big boss of (insert your dream job here) someday and you couldn’t live with yourself if you felt shagging carts was too hard for you, or beneath you. You could simply say, in your sweetest girly voice, “Ma’am, I’m sorry that you don’t feel I’m capable of this job, but, believe me, I am quite strong and quite capable. Thank you for asking though.” No matter what, though, don’t demur. You are in the right here. Keep strong. And, worst case scenario, give them a copy of LW#2’s letter to Prudie. Ask them if they want you to turn out like her.

****
Well, shippers, that’s another week down. I’ve got some maintenance planned for the boat, so I’ll be in port for awhile. It’s hard to resist this weather! Reminds me of a description of the waterfront in Ontario I once heard. Morning mists rolling in off of the Hudson. Chill in the air. Magic in the water. Beautiful... Until next time, shippers, fair winds and following seas to you all...