It's another time for an exciting episode of "Dear Moog"...
...where readers ask their questions...
...and I bullsh*t up some stupid answers.
Seriously...what are you expecting here?
True "from the heart" answers?
If so, then it's obvious that you're a complete f*cking idiot.
I am not responsible for any stupid sh*t you do to yourself or others as a result of taking any of my advice seriously. There, I think that covers it.
You've been warned.
I love your stuff.
I'm also curious as to how you come up with your picture ideas for your blog.
(Some guy from somewhere I can't remember because I deleted his f*cking email)"."
Dear, whoever you are:
I know you didn't originally write the "you're hot" part in your email to me, but since I deleted the whole f*cking thing, I took poetic license on it.
I think you're hot, too.
But not in a gay way. That would be weird.
That's a very good question, about the pictures.
Thanks for playing.
Okay, next letter:
About the pictures...
To be honest with you, my head basically looks like the front lawn of "Sanford and Son"...
Sh*t is strewn everywhere...
...lawn chairs, garden gnomes, lipstick lesbians, and - for some reason - Weird Al Yankovich.
Every idea I have translates to some weird analogy in my head...usually involving porn.
In my post, "Is there a 401(k)," I somehow veered away from my future foray into the porn industry...
...and started a paragraph about how girls don't go poo.
I'm not sure why it went this way...but it did.
This is how my mind works.
I have no control over it.
It went like this:
"As a side note, please notice that I said "Men’s Room” – not “Ladies Room” - as ladies don’t have diarrhea…since I’m convinced that they don’t poo.
..little poo fairies come and take it away in their sleep.
This is what happens.
I firmly believe this."
With this disturbing idea firmly planted in my head, I then searched the Internet for images of:
1) a girl sleeping
2) a fairy
3) a piece of poo
4) Scarlett Johannsen naked (nothing to do with the post, but while I was searching I figured, "why not?")
Oddly, prior to my creating this masterpiece, I found that one of these pictures didn't already actually exist.
Sometimes, the Internet surprises me.
Then, using my deft knowledge of computers, architecture, and every line of script in the movie, "Jaws," I pieced the images together to bring you the following work of art:
You're welcome, world.
What does mental poo actually smell like?
Thanks, Spazoid, for your question.
My gut tells me that Mental Poo probably smells like Teen Spirit.
However, I'm damn near 40 years old, and I can no longer remember what Teen Spirit smells like.
(my age, as well as the details of my restraining order, stop me from researching this any further)
Since I can't smell my own sh*t unless I exit and re-enter the room hours later, I'll leave it up to you all to come up with your own ideas.
Yes, folks - what do YOU think Mental Poo smells like?
Yeah, it's a cop-out, but it beats the answer of:
Mental Poo smells like Richard Simmons' penis after a crazy night of Crystal-meth and Bartles-N-James wine cooler chasers in the monkey cage at the zoo."
Which, in the end, means it smells like bananas and monkey sh*t.
...you get more evidence of my picture-creating prowess.
Now I want a wine cooler...
...and some shiny shorts.
There you go! Yet another exciting episode!
I have a "Dear Moog" link on the top left of my page, or you can email me here.
Want bad advice? Want sh*tty answers?
You've come to the right place.
Drop me a line.
And don't forget to check out my other articles at Scrivel.
Friday, March 14, 2008
Labels: Dear Moog