Dear Etiquette People,
I’m worried about my roommate. She reads a lot of very explicit romance novels. I’ve looked through them, and you wouldn’t believe what goes on. I’ve tried explaining to her that she is cheating on her future husband by allowing herself to dwell on lustful thoughts of the men in these books. She just laughs loudly in a way that might indicate she is possessed.
She won’t listen to sound moral advice, but I know she reads secular advice columns, so you are my only hope. how do I convince her to preserve her chastity, mentally?
~A Concerned Friend
Dear Concerned Friend,
It is our considered opinion that you are already doing enough for chastity, mentally, for both yourself and your friend. We therefore advise you to put aside your worries, and take up some form of healthy outdoor activity.
as ever,
Miss Verity
anon said,
January 7, 2009 at 10:01 pm
Dear Inebriates,
“Two weeks ago, I brought home a new doll. My two other dolls still haven’t accepted her. They make cutting remarks, and she cries every day! Last night they pushed her out of our bed! Have you any advice?
“–Daunted D*llf*cker”
“Dear F*cker,
“As dolls take much of their personality from their owners, perhaps the dissonance in your home is a sign of the dissonance in your own mind. Might I suggest calming meditations? Also, a visit with the appropriate imaginary counselor, such as Dr. Lucy Van Pelt, Barney, or the Easter Bunny might be in order.
Anonymous said,
January 9, 2009 at 4:14 pm
“My co-worker is an annoying breeder who talks about her kids all the time and uses them as an excuse to get sympathy. After a recent argument we had, she got really upset at me even though it was her fault and now refuses to talk to me. How do I tell this idiot moo that I don’t fucking care if her crotchspawn has 38 degree fever and breaking out in red rashes, I cannot take over her shift for her ON NEW YAOI NIGHT and she was wrong to be a bitch about it and must forgive me by giving me a muffin? – CFree4Lif3″
louisrenault said,
January 19, 2009 at 6:37 pm
My dear fellow,
Being a gentleman of – shall we say – ‘worldly’ tastes, I find myself wondering: if you do indeed copulate with your felicitous foamy friend, where, pray tell, does your execretion go?
Do the said dolls contain either a reservoir or some sort of removable sponge, which acts to soak up your sediments?
I only ask because I have a five-franc bet with Rick. He insists there is a reservoir to catch the spunk whereas I come – pardon the pun – down firmly on the side of the sponge.
Do tell?
Louis
louisrenault said,
March 29, 2009 at 12:26 am
Dear Anonymous,
You wrote that your co-worker is “an annoying breeder” who “talks about her kids all the time” but I beg you to understand: the urge to reproduce is very strong in the human animal, and rightly so! Imagine how long the race would last if everyone declared themselves to be childfree!
For some of us,the choice to be childfree is made in good conscience, with the knowledge that one’s lifestyle could not possibly be conducive to a healthy family atmosphere. For others, the choice to have children stems from a deep desire to extend the family line – or the family name; to experience pregnancy and childbirth (although I personally saw a woman give birth once in a gutter in Toulon and have been traumatised ever since); to bring new life into the world; or to create a being they hope will be a smaller version of themselves. (This is rarely the case. Most children turn out obstinately opposite to their parents: the avid fisherman gives life to a sofa-loving layabout; the fashionista creates a slob. It’s really quite shocking.)
You must understand something about Those Who Have Children: they never quite get over it. By this I mean that they can never quite get past the notion that somehow, the act of physical love and its resulting jouissance has created an approximately six-pound lump of squalling human flesh that requires feeding and changing on a regular basis. Most new parents walk about for the first five years in a state of near-catatonic shock, wondering where the devil this small person came from. So you must excuse them if all they talk about is their child – Those Who Have Children are so entirely exhausted from tending to their offspring that they no longer have time for drinking, dancing, whoring, or playing cards. They no longer have energy for laundry, and conjugal sex is out of the question.
Therefore, their children seem to be the entire focus of their existence because they ARE. These poor people are more to be pitied than scorned – and you, childfree, cannot IMAGINE how they have suffered. Pray it never happens to you.
And, in light of this, if you ever find yourself having to give up Yaoi Night to fill in for a co-worker whose child is vomiting up crickets – or worse – you can always get back at them.
I personally like to keep a mental file of “Children Gone Bad” horror stories, and trot them out whenever Those Who Have Children are cooing over the size and consistency of Little Bobby’s poo.
Aimiable,
Louis.