- Sasquatch tells you so.
- You stitch your loved-one’s name into your socks.
- Suddenly you start liking death metal.
- One afternoon you decide to make dioramas of the best scenes from Say Anything, but you replace the main characters with you and the person you love.
- You give up your religion, your family, and your community.
- Their goitre doesn’t bother you one bit.
- In conversation with your friends, you say “Their feet don’t smell that bad.”
- So their apartment’s infested. So what?
- You tell them you hate their sexual orientation.
- When you think about them you get nauseous. This could also be indicative of salmonella poisoning or existential angst.
DON’T FORGET TO SUBMIT YOUR QUESTIONS FOR MONTEZUMA TO ANSWER!
Montezuma is a reformed amateur goatherd and current proponent of soy-based space exploration. His spare time is spent donating heating oil to over three Americans.
My previous landlord told a prospective landlord that I was a great tenant, but left over $30,000 worth of damage to the apartment. However, he never inspected the place, he gave us back our deposit, and he never took us to court for $30,000 in damages; a sane person would. Right? Now it’s hard to find a place. Can you confirm or deny the rumors that the Aztecs had a use for parallel and perpendicular roads?
My darling Tainush, you silly man, don’t you know that there is no use for such things? At least not if you’re any civilization who can tie its own shoes. If you’re just a 12-hutter, don’t bother.
I have a rotary saw, a lemon-scented Armor All™, and a law against nude games of Candyland. What good is a sense of taste anyway?
My good friend Boris: Your letter of the 19th gave me great pause (so many letters do). First, your inclusion of a votive milk shake machine in the third part is ridiculous. That you then went on to state TWELVE times that hamster-powered factories are a regional solution suitable in the Southwest, almost, almost made me put down my pen and lunge vainly in your direction with crass, screeching bloodlust. I only knew of authors 17-53 in your 13,000 entry appendix of notes relevant to the fourth paragraph on page 372. No cart was included with the missive for ease of transport. In all the effort generated a poor grade in my book.
My father continues to send me semi-weekly shipments of vests. While I do enjoy owning so many woolen, cotton, leather, vinyl, fur, hemp, and cured catgut vests, it seems they are always two sizes too small. Is there a good way to communicate to my father the size disparity in a way which will let my father know the breadth of the situation?
Bards, I did some preliminary research on you. I noticed in your online profiles that you’re quite fond of and very proud of your begonia-growing hobby. I despise begonias. Firstly because they’re a rather dull flower, more appropriate for a middle-aged and lonely matron unable to find a companion to validate her existence. Secondly, begonias contribute to global poverty. You see, it has been statistically proven that the more begonias are grown, the fewer irises are grown. Irises, as everyone knows, are the source of the world’s caper supply. So, concomitantly, the more begonias there are, the more scarce become capers. You might think that’s okay, but we know that the entire putanesca pasta-sauce industry is based upon the production of capers. Lower the amount of available capers, and you lower the per-capita consumption of spaghetti putanesca worldwide. With that comes an increase in the anchovie population. We all know where that leads…
I have an interesting question for you. 35 years ago I was a Jane Fonda impersonator. It was only a part-time gig, but I had the body for it and it was good money. Working a party one night I met a man named Barry Wurtzemborg. I believe he was Swedish. We hit it off and he gave me his card hoping for a night on the town at a later date. Do you think I should have called him?
Rikki, it does not pay to play footsie with communists. But apart from that I doubt your story is truthful. Swedes do not carry cards. They communicate their intentions through deceit and intrigue. At the very least you may have been deceived, indicating that perhaps Barry Wurtzemborg was Danish. The Danes enjoy pretending to be Swedish at parties.
I need a theme song. Looking for something about genetics, heuristics, and a love of volleyball. Was thinking something in a flamenco/black metal vein. Any suggestions?
Moehash Gennessennehaha, WD
Are you the same George Scarborough who once asked me to sign 70 copies of my book A Life More Ordinary: Questions On Cleaning? I can’t believe it only took me six hours to personalize all of those books. Sorry about ripping the back cover off of a few. Sometimes I get angry when I look at myself. I’m sure you understand how painful self-examination can be.
I grew a beard because my ex-girlfriend wanted to see what I looked like with one. Well, it grew on me (ha ha!). But now that we’re through, I’m a bit anxious to shave it down and let it grow back in again. I don’t want her to think I got rid of it because of her. Actually, I like it a lot! Do you think men wearing ankle bracelets is gay?
West Roanoka, Dry Michigan
Mr. Poppins, performing fellatio on another male in a back alley is gay. Not wearing an anklet, as they are sometimes termed. The terminology arises from the anklet’s invention in Ankele, Turkey, not from the fact that it is worn about the ankle. Some anthropologists believe it was worn as a sign that the bearer owned cotton. One imagines wearing cotton clothing would be a better signal.
I’m often compelled to punch people when I’m in an elevator. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s their boldly-exposed craniums, or maybe it’s the confined space. At any rate I have a lot of pent-up rage which manifests in quite violent thoughts. I’ve rarely physically assaulted anyone, but would like to increase my numbers as I think I could kick some ass. Any advice?
Dear Jeremy, have you considered engaging in what the kids call “rough sex.” It can be a good outlet for violent thoughts and the libidinous urge.
It is imperative that you keep your keys as disorganized as possible. I suggest keeping your front door key three keys away from the next key you use (say the key to your apartment). All of your car keys should come before your mail key except for one, which will go on the other side of the mail key. Make sure you keep the key to the second lock on your apartment door in a back pocket. This will increase the likelihood that you forget it, get locked out of your apartment, and meet the cute girl from upstairs. This is, of course, if you desire to lead an interesting life. If you’re a creature of habit and efficiency you probably should not have read this.
We’re a day away from the new year and all seems right with the world. War, poverty, and death are all in places where I can’t see them. Well, except the poverty, which still exists in a nation as rich as ours. I’m sorry, you were looking for sex, right? Or possibly Andy Rooney? On with Three Links!
Worried about what to say in the throes of passion with your anonymous New Year’s Eve sex partner tomorrow? Worry no more with this Things to Say During Sex flow chart.
Anyone who knows me knows I LOVE bugs. If it’s got more than four legs, more than two eyes, and is ugly under magnification, I want to know about it. The Hellstrom Chronicle is a 1971 Academy Award Winning documentary warning about the dangers posed to humanity from arthropods. Don’t start watching this if you don’t want some interesting science, a good laugh, and lots of bugs.
You may remember Andy Rooney from his appearance in our History’s Top Curmudgeons article. You should check that out, but it’s not our third link for today. That honour goes to metal_floss and their Did Andy Rooney Really Say That? lunchtime quiz. I got 10 out of 15, how about you?
A Specialized Editorial by Samuel Sharrington IV
If you’ve ever heard the expression “it’s not the dress that makes you look fat” then you understand the concept that it’s not the love that makes you stupid. You are being stupid, plain and simple. Just to reassure you, here are my Stupidity Credentials.
In high school I dated Lenore. An evangelical Christian at the time, she obsessed over the idea that we would never spend eternity together and gave this as a reason we couldn’t be together.
Not being together essentially involved being together when she felt like it and her feeling guilty afterwards. For months. Did I take the hint? Nope. I walked into it like the biggest slack-jawed yokel you ever did see. I might have unwittingly left out anything reflecting poorly on me, but we do have space limitations.
Later I fell for Penelope. We were together for some time and I never screwed up. Not once. Really. While at college she started spending time with Peter. Letters went unanswered and calls were less frequent. In each rare call Peter was mentioned more frequently. It’s easy to see that it came as a surprise when we broke up. Later Penelope and I dated intermittently.
I noticed several weeks into one Summer that while the season began with sex it was currently at a state of fully-clothed kissing. Like a puppy I was weaned, but unlike a puppy I didn’t know enough to raise a fuss about it until it was too late. Smart cookie, that one.
The next serious relationship was Scarlet. When she ended the relationship, I in no way behaved like a stalker and don’t suffer awkwardness with anyone involved to this day. Anyway, it took months to realize we were into each other. Things strolled along quite well for a while, but then something happened. That something was The Moon.
She stopped sleeping with me and rather than tell me it was over (or me realizing it was over) Scarlet blamed it on the phases of some four and a half billion year old rock in the sky. I don’t remember the breakup very well. Maybe it was based on chicken entrails or a Ouija board. Again, I did not behave in the worst, creepiest fashion of my life at the termination of this relationship. Really.
After some intermittent dating, I think I became smart as evidenced by my newfound desire to date a heroin addict. Melissa was rather active for a heroin addict and only occasionally (every third day or so) looked sickly, pallid and weak.
Her roommate Katrina was more fun. She liked to snort coke off of a framed picture of Captain Picard (which might have been autographed). I wanted her and she wanted me. She also wanted a few other people on the side. (I may have been the one on the side.) By gumption, I wasn’t falling for this again!
Right now I’m in a long-term relationship with the third roommate, Octavia. She rocks, and even so I’ve done plenty of stupid things. But we’ll have to leave those out for, again, lack of space.
So I’ve pretty well locked down my authority to say that the love’s not what makes you stupid. The stupid’s all on you. Remember: the next time you feel like telling someone that you have a rare tropical disease, rather than tell them you don’t want to be with them, just own up; and the next time you want to believe such a tale, don’t blame love for making you stupid.
Sharrington is the author of several books on national Middling-Seller Lists, including Nobody Understands Me, No Really Means No, Things Were Never That Good to Begin With: A Rebuttal to Things Will Never Be That Good Again, and Bleak Expanse: A Positivist Outlook on Relationships.
A Point-Counterpoint Discussion
Pro Large Breasts:
Professor Samuel Radget is the Ambassador Plenipotentiary to the Arctic Mexico Colonies and an expert with over 35 years of large breast research publication. He is currently the James Clerk Maxwell Eminent Scholar in Residence at the Accadia Bio-Economic Social Politics University of Culture in the beautiful city of Grand Flemish.
When speaking of large breasts, it is important to remember the words of philosopher and popular music composer Bek David Campbell. They are, quite simply, “where it’s at.” As noted aesthetician, rapper and agriculturalist Anthony Ray once said directly, “put ‘em on the glass.” One couldn’t think of the amazing lyrics penned by Frank Carlton Serafino Ferranna, Jr. for his magnum opus “Girls, Girls, Girls” without these Sovereign’s Orbs of the female form.
Pro Small Breasts:
Dr. Jules Strickland has been a professor of Reproductive Politics and Sexual Political Science at the Orville Wright College of Aeronautics at MCATDA for the past seventeen years. His latest publication is the Tommy Award winning “Nipples: A Study in Classical Statuary”
Let us face facts here, large breasts, while generally favored as the “ideal” are ungainly. The effects of gravity are quite noticeable, directly proportional to breast size. Small breasts retain their perkiness much better under physical condition and they are quite enjoyable in person. They may be small, but they are invariably perky and delicate and pink and enjoyable. Large breasts are droopy and tend to flatten out over time. Truly, small breasts are the choice of the wise.
Pro Large Breasts
Pro Small Breasts
Pro Large Breasts
Pro Small Breasts