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By thamike.com
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Rude

After my first week of dishing out advice to some poor schlub, it seems as if the bandwagon is starting to get loaded-up with loyal followers who understand just how valuable the real truth is. I'll make my best effort to get to all of you every week, but if I don't, try again or come to the realization that you've just asked me a really, really stupid question--so stupid that it's not been worth the time to put down my McRib and peck out a response.

Dear Rude:


Here's a lovely little advice column cliché, I like a boy, but I can't have him. The problem is, well, boys my age are still in the stage where girls have "cooties".

What the hell should I do?

Allys In Wonderlust


Dear Wonderlust,

Cooties? Look, I'll tell you right now that I was making out with girls in movie theaters when I was in grade school--and we're talking 1st grade, baby. Sure, I wasn't always the guy they were hoping for, but little tricks like "Pretend I'm Johnny when we go under the coat" and "I'll show you mine if you show me yours" worked like gangbusters, even back then.

If you've got some little yutz who thinks you've got "cooties" at "your age", which you did not disclose (and I don't want to know), then your first problem might just be with little Milhouse FruityPants. There's a good chance that any boy worried about cooties is more attentive to his mothers dresses, shoes and the latest in Barbie fashion than he is about finding out the finer areas of exploration that are "Make-out Parties" in some kids basement with the divorced mother who leaves everyone alone with the music on loud and the lights off while she's downing 2-3 bottles of red wine with her new boyfriend who just got off of work at his job at the gas station where he does a lot of oil changes and lube jobs, if you get my drift. Hey, I won't lie to you, either, I never had much success at those parties myself, because I liked computers and had the social skills of Wesley Crusher, but I always, always always always always WANTED to get with the ladies, and the word "cooties" never once entered my mind, and I'd probably get into a fight--even though I was a huge wuss--with anyone that said "cooties" back then.

So, Miss Wonderlust, here's my suggestion to you: Buy cootie boy some hand lotion as a gift and see if he uses it as hand lotion, or if it mysteriously ends up empty in a couple of weeks. If he uses it as the former (that is, actually to moisturize his dry, cracking hands with that sweet healing love of Aloe Vera and/or Witch Hazel), subscribe him to International Male or Genre or some other fruitbasket magazine that'll help him keep up with the fashions while you're out there starting to read the CosmoTeen or some other magazine geared toward turning the female population of the world into sluts.

Dump the guy and call me when you're 18. Or when your ID says you're 18.

Whichever.


Dear Rude:

Why is considered impolite to fart in church?

GassyAss


Dear Assy,


Now why would you think anyone wants to smell your stank-ass, nasty-ass rear-end expulsions anywhere--let alone a church? The term "that went over like a fart in church" originated when some idiot pffffffffft'd out an SBD in a church setting a long, long time ago--back when you respected the church, dressed nicely, made out with the priests and kept your mouth shut. Clearly, this was way back in the 1800's or so, and the churches had no conditioned air and very little heat, so the farts would stink up the whole joint and on one could leave until the priest was done with his sermon.

People had nowhere to go! Remember when you were little and someone would hold you down and fart on your face and keep you there? It's the same reason--God, or Jesus (holes in his hands and all) are holding you down in that church pew and not letting you, and the rest of the entire congregation up. The only escape is that of a small child. If you have one with you, it's completely acceptable to let loose the heater--but it has to be a SILENT heater--and then pinch the child just enough so that it let's out a wail so that you can bolt for the "crying room".

On the other hand, if you're the only one around, I say cut loose. Your own farts always smell pretty good, anyway.

Written by Faux-Newz Staff Writer
Rude

Direct your questions to: rude@thamike.com or click here


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