Friday, April 18, 2008

ripped from the pages of dear abby...

DEAR Brett and Spots:
I recently moved in with my 41-year-old fiancé, "Sean." He's a great guy, never married, no children, and I love him dearly. I have discovered something disturbing about Sean. He has this "security fur" he can't part with. He told me he has used it since he was very young and says that the feel of it calms him down. However, I believe the "fur" has other uses besides being his security blanket. When I became upset about it, Sean hid it from me. He only came clean (somewhat) after I told him I don't like finding those pieces of fur. I have found them in his bed, in his robe pocket, in between the sofa cushions, etc. How can I break him of this "habit"? It makes me uncomfortable, and I guess the truth is I'm somewhat jealous of the darn thing. Besides, it reminds me of a dead animal. How can I get the fur out of both of our lives without destroying our relationship and jeopardizing our upcoming marriage?

Dear Clueless Moron:
It certainly sounds to this voice of experience as if Sean has been making some pretty frequent withdrawals from his personal ATM. He told you he’s used this piece of fur since he’s very young? Yea, I’m guessing he’s been helping to put Mr. Kleenex’s kids through college with it since he was about 12. Let’s examine the locations in which you have found Sean’s woodland friends, shall we? In his bed? He was making stomach pancakes. In his robe pocket? He was acting out the grapes of wrath. In the couch cushions? A, gross. B, he was releasing the hostages. Let me be clear – it’s ok that he enjoys downloading from his own website. All men do. I have two main concerns here. The first is the fur. Who puts the seminal luge team through their paces by utilizing thumper’s skin graft? My second concern is hygiene. Look, I enjoy shaking my fist at the ex-girlfriend as much as anyone, but I don’t leave the DNA stewing around the house when I’m done. I practically boil myself after I conduct my own stem cell research.
So, my advice? Your fiancĂ© obviously is a chronic whacker, with a fur fetish. The way I see it, you have two basic options. Either exponentially increase your blowjob output, or stop trimming and grow the 70’s porn bush. Your choice, Furby.
PS: You would be well advised to steer clear of Synagogues and PETA rallies.

Dear Really Bad Self-Esteem,
I have to admit. I was confused by your whole “other purposes” comment. I needed Brett to explain it to me in no uncertain terms. And um, weird. That being said, we don’t judge here at I’ll Flip You. (Who’m I kidding? That’s the whole point!) First things first, are your…uh…needs…being, you know…met? Because if this apparent Mr. Wonderful has some private solo fur fetish in which he prefers to dabble on occasion, well, God bless him. He could be raping Cambodian orphans on his “business trips.” So what, you’ve got bits of fur to extract from couch cushions. Big deal. Pretend it’s an invisible pet or get a maid. I don’t care. I’m not seeing what the big hoo-ha is. You’re jealous of a fur blankie? That’s like being jealous of last September’s Hustler or Natalie Portman, both of which he’s thinking about while making sweet, sweet love to you. I think the person that should be freaked out right now is poor “Sean” who can’t fuck a fur without you banging on the bathroom door wanting to know what the hell is going on.
Lighten up. You never know when you might get a mink for Christmas. And then have a three-way with it.
Love, Beth


Anonymous said...

Speaking as a straight man, I couldn't love you more. Spots, you are awesome.

Anonymous said...

You're kind of a Dear Abby slut, always with a different attractive male co-writer.

Anonymous said...

Fur heaven's sake.

Nikki said...

Oh Jesus! What the fuck?! Currently laughing out loud at my desk when I should be working. Thanks again!

Becky said...

Best Dear Abby ever.

Boys will always jerk it. And they do it on and with weird shit.

Girls need to get a vibrator and get over it!