Dear Miss Wisdom (Advice Column)

Dear Miss Wisdom,

My clone is in the process of getting an expensive sex-change operation (so that’s why we’re always broke!) and is now stalking me.  I don’t know where he/she gets off on this attraction, but it strikes me as both unhealthy and unwise.  Besides, I can’t understand it, since I don’t even like myself.  How could my clone be so crazy about me?  S/He’s really starting to creep me out and get on my nerves, especially at meal times, when s/he justs sits there watching me chew my food.  

What should I do?

Your sexually harassed friend,

Narcissus

Dear Narcissus,

Don’t blame me for being the bearer of bad news, but I have to tell you that that’s what you get for playing God.  Why don’t you kick your clone in the ball-gina and tell him/her to get out of your life?  Of course, people might accuse you of being homophobic, but it sounds as if your clone doesn’t respect your personal space.  If that doesn’t work, put out a restraining order.  Last resort:  hire a hit man and let him take care of it.  But don’t tell the police where you got the idea.  I don’t want to lose such a cushy gig.

Dear Miss Wisdom,

My parents have kicked me out of the house because I want to marry a horse.  Before you laugh at me, let me say that if you saw her, you’d fall in love with her too.  Her name is Winnie and she makes Pegasus look like Mr. Ed.  My mother thinks it’s a sin, and my father said it’s against the law, which is bunk.  Winnie’s over eighteen.  Everyone thinks I’m nuts.  The only person who understands me, besides Winnie, that is, is Charlie Brown, and he’s dead.

What do you think I should do?  I dream of raising a family of little centaurs with Winnie, my hay-eating sweetheart.

Yours on Tenterhooks,

Cowboyfriend

Dear Cowboyfriend,

Sorry to burst your bubble, but your friends and family are right:  you are nuts.  Leave the horse alone and find a human girlfriend instead.  It’s unlikely that your equine companion feels the same way about you as you do about her; I know that unrequited love stings, but we’re not living in Sodom or Gomorrah.  If you want to get a second opinion, talk to Linus Van Pelt.  But avoid Lucy–that little bitch will just wrench your football away just as you’re about to kick it and give you scatterbrained psychiatric advice.

 

Dear Miss Wisdom,

I’m so excited that I’m going to become a professional singer.  No one else thinks I have a good voice, but when I sing, I feel so alive.  I have to close the door to my room, however, or my husband screams at me to shut up and throws a half-drunk beer can at my head.  The dog is also inclined to growl at me.  Still, I’m a bastion of talent, and I’m determined to take Broadway by storm, and join the Rockettes to boot.

What can you tell me to help me achieve my dream?

Waiting with ‘Bated Breath,

Songbird

 

Dear Songbird,

It’s possible that you have talent and you’re surrounded by people with undiscerning tastes.  I wouldn’t know, never having heard you sing.  But my guess is that if everyone around you is giving you the thumbs-down, you ought to stop.  Although you’re right that singing is therapeutic, and that it provides the singer with a spiritual release bordering on catharsis, it’s tantamount to musical terrorism if you have a grating voice or sing off-key.  No one needs that kind of torture.  So get a real job like the rest of us and kiss your Broadway dreams goodbye.

 

Dear Miss Wisdom,

I am a twenty-nine year old closet lesbian still living at home, trying to pay off student loans, under the thumb of a dictatorial, conservative stepmother who monitors my every move.  She keeps trying to fix me up with a single minister who told me politely on a blind date that he was gay and was just waiting for a guy to come along with Christ’s credentials before he took the plunge.  I applauded him for having the courage of his convictions, but when I told my stepmother he was gay, she called me a liar.

What should I do?

Hoping you can help,

Anxious

 

Dear Anxious,

Your stepmother sounds like a real piece of work.  You’ve got to move out of that place–soon.  She clearly doesn’t have your best interests in mind.  If she had any kind of women’s intution whatsoever, she’d be able to discern the minister’s sexuality.  Move in with a friend–a girlfriend–and let your hair down for a change.  You can start making steamy videos together and post them on the Internet.  That ought to help put a dent in those student loans.  

Also, if you need someone for a three-way, or someone to hold the camera, I’m always available.  I also know a guy named Vinnie who can take care of your stepmother for you if she cops an attitude.  Good luck, and have fun.

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