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Advice Column: Relationship Trouble

I
feel I have a lot of good advice to give, but usually nobody wants
to hear it. Oftentimes I find myself reading newspaper advice columns and angrily
shouting out the answers to the questions people have asked.

Usually the other
patients get scared when I do this. Then the lady in the white dress
says it’s time for me to take my blue and white pills. Then I don’t
feel anything for a while and I watch some shows on the TV. In celebration of this, I will now answer a
number of random relationship questions which were not posed to me in
the first place.

I
feel I have a lot of good advice to give, but usually nobody wants
to hear it. Oftentimes I find myself reading newspaper advice columns and angrily
shouting out the answers to the questions people have asked.

Usually the other
patients get scared when I do this. Then the lady in the white dress
says it’s time for me to take my blue and white pills. Then I don’t
feel anything for a while and I watch some shows on the TV. In celebration of this, I will now answer a
number of random relationship questions which were not posed to me in
the first place.

A Nice Young Man

BikiniMy
boyfriend told me around last year summertime that I needed to lose
weight if I wanted to wear my favorite bikini. Now I don’t even want to
undress in front of him. I feel judged and rejected. What should I do?

Don’t
feel bad. Your boyfriend isn’t trying to hurt your feelings; he is just
telling you this because he thinks you’re super fat. Honesty is very
important in a relationship; you should be grateful you have such a
truthful man in your life. You can turn the tables on him though, by
developing an eating disorder. The day that he bursts into the bathroom
to find you hunched over the toilet with a chubby finger thrust down
your throat and what appears to be curds of bile dribbling down your
chin is the day he stops telling you that you look fat.

If you
think that contracting a dangerous and harmful disorder isn’t for you
though, you might consider leaving your boyfriend because he is an ass.
Either that, or you could continue to delude yourself into thinking
that a man who callously (albeit indirectly) calls you a hideous
pockmarked mass of cellulite garbage is worth sticking around for.
Whatever works for you.

Change for a Twenty

ProstituteI’m
in I guess an emotionally abusive relationship. He isn’t my boyfriend,
but we have sex. Its gotten to the point that he has told me that I am
no good in bed and that in fact I should pay him for sex. One time he
made me give him $20! And I did it. How can I get out of what I know is
a bad relationship for me? I mean I think I love him.

Ah!
I know how you can get out. You’ve got to hit this man where it hurts:
In his wallet. So now, each time he makes you pay him for sex, ask for
a receipt so you can claim it on your taxes. It’s unlikely that he has
the materials on hand to produce any such document in large numbers, so
he’ll have to go out and purchase a number of expensive pieces of
equipment from an office supply store in order that he might print out
the receipts in bulk (to save time and money).

And now you’ve
got him right where you want him. Begin having sex with him at twenty
minute intervals throughout the entire day for weeks at a time. There
will come a point when it simply becomes too costly for him to
keep track of and print up enough sex receipts on his own and he will
have to hire some outside help. Then when someone comes in for an
interview, dash into the room and shout, “Help! My boyfriend asked me
to pay him for sex and I did!” The applicant will most likely just sort
of stare at you with a troubled look on their face and then leave.

Amazon Woman Needs Love

Tall WomanI
want a mate who is taller than me, makes more money than me, no kids,
but wants them. Are those unrealistic goals for a possible match? And
if so — what can I do about it? I want to get married.

Dear
lady: First of all I sure hope you aren’t that fourteen foot tall woman
who makes Thirty Billion a year I saw on the news. If you are, boy oh
boy, good luck. But come on, even if you aren’t that woman, what kind
of uncreative traits are these to come up with for a fictional mate?

 

Check mine out: I want a girlfriend who: is insanely cute
and also beautiful, laughs at everything I say, never looks at or talks
to another man, is extremely smart (but not smarter than me), doesn’t
have any close family I have to meet, makes billions of dollars a year
with very little effort in the pharmaceutical industry, is small enough
that I can easily toss her down a well, is not a fan of movie theater
butter popcorn, enjoys watching me jump rope, and cries when she
watches
most episodes of Frontline. Oh, and she should also be made entirely of
gold.

Make Him Do It

DexterI
have been in this “sort of” relationship for about 18 months with a man
I adore. While not a perfect man, he is perfect for me. He still says
he wants to keep things “without a title” because he doesn’t want to
hurt or disappoint me. He says that he is only seeing and sleeping with
me. What else do I need to do? Why won’t this man love me? Why doesn’t
he want me?

Don’t wait another moment: Dump this man
immediately! Don’t tell me you haven’t recognized the signs…The
apparent lack of interest in other women, the “supposed” concern for
your feelings, the “perceived” inability to apply a meaningless and
possibly harmful label to an ostensibly strong relationship? Such a man
does not exist. These things are a clever act designed to pull you and
your children into this man’s web if deciept. Do I have to spell it out
for you: The man is a serial killer! Oh you stupid, stupid woman.

Quickly
now, head down into the cellar. Nice and slow now. Don’t arouse
suspicion. Stairs one at a time. One foot in front of the other. Easy
does it. There we go. Now out across the floor and over to the freezer.
That’s a good girl. We mustn’t wake him. Oh please god just let him
sleep just a few minutes more. Try the lid now. Hmm…locked. What to do,
what to do…Ah! The shovel! The shovel. Over there by the window. Take
it, take it! Now smash the lock, smash it! What? A noise from upstairs?
No…there isn’t time—the lid. What…Oh god. Ohgodohgodohgodohgod. Sweet
merciful god no. No. no. no. no. no. So much blood. Oh so very very
very much blood. Oh no. The children! The children! You must get to the
children! Up the stairs; there isn’t a moment to…NOWAITLOOKOU—

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