HOW TO GET RID OF THOSE FUCKHEADS.

Dear Angus Oblong,
Fairly recently, two of my closest friends have each
found serious significant others. They now no longer
call me. On the occasions when we do talk, it's
because I take the initiative. When I make plans to
meet up with either one, they often flake on me
because they're busy with their boyfriends. Neither of
them say "I" anymore to refer to themselves. It's now
"we." We had a late night. We already saw that
movie/went to that museum/tried that restaurant and
didn't like it, etc. When I do actually get to meet up
with either of my friends, the boyfriend is always
with. Now, the boyfriends aren't bad people. They're
just people I wouldn't choose to spend my free time
with, i.e. they are not people I enjoy. Unfortunately,
they are now part of the package. So in addition to
being unamused when I'm with my friends and their
boyfriends, I also feel like the lame third wheel.
Angus, please tell me how to handle this difficult,
but delicate, situation. My friends are very valuable
to me but so, too, is my free time, and I don't want
to spend another moment not having a good time when I
go out.
Sincerely,
-Frustrated with Friends (Los Angeles)

Dear Frustrated,
  I’m with you, sistah! I HATE it when that shit happens! But even worse, I hate it when my friends have babies. Babies take all of the attention away from me and we can’t have that.
Your solution is really quite simple. Break them up. Believe me, getting rid of a friend’s significant other is ten times easier than getting rid of their fucking baby. One tactic is to get yourself alone with him for a substantial amount of time, then tell your friend he came onto you. Easy. Maybe even get another female friend or relative to do the same. Your mother perhaps?
  If you can’t do the above because you’re a bad liar, break them up passive-aggressively by sending flowers to a mutual female friend with his name on the card. (Order the flowers in person and use cash; no paper trail.) This will cost you about $35.00 and he will have a lot of explaining to do once the flowers arrive and the phone calls begin. Of course he will deny it, but seeing as men are lying (I want to say “pigs” but pigs are actually very smart, clean and loyal) scum. Men are lying scum. ...But seeing as men are lying scum, she will either dump him or be very suspicious of his actions. If the latter, they are as good as broken up.
Good luck and keep me posted on how this goes!
-Angus Oblong.

 

YOU BIG FAG.

Dear Mr. Oblong,
 I think I might be gay. I haven't told anyone except my best friend. I'm really worried about what my parents will do, and they're helping me pay for school right now. What should I do?
signed,
-Queer-ish in Queens.

Dear faggot,
God, I hate fags. I hate them SO much that whenever I’m sucking on a faggot’s cock, I bite down a little and clench his balls tight in my fist so that he goes, “Hey! Ow! Quit it!” in that annoying little nelly voice they always have. That’ll show him for being gay.
Now come over here and suck my cock, you dress wearing tinkerbell.
-Angus Oblong.

I HAVE NO IDEA.

Dear Mr. Oblong,
I recently got caught in a disturbing and extremely embarrassing situation, I was home alone (I thought) and needless to say bored. As I was enjoying a good shit in my parents bathroom, I noticed a jar of interesting lubrication titled (mineral ice) so in my teenage angst I decided to liberally apply the lubrication to my twig and berries in hope of an interesting and new sensation as the lube smelled very fresh and clean,..sorta like euchalyptis. Well, as i began the process of self gratification it began to feel very cool and refreshing but then everything went terribly wrong and the cool refreshing feeling turned to an excruciating seering heat that brought tears to my eyes, in a panic i turned on the shower to hot so that i could wash away this fiery torment, but, when the hot water hit my junk, the pain tripled bringing me to my knees...which is where my mother walked in to see where the cries of agony were coming from, when she saw me I was on my knees crying with my beef in my hand...ever since then my mother has seemed very distant and wont go near her bathroom. My question to you mr Oblong is...will things ever be the same between my mother and I, or do u think my mother isnt attracted to me anymore once she caught me wankin off to her picture?

Dear anonymous,
This letter is far too long. I didn't read it all and probably never will.
-Angus Oblong.

CANNIBALISM IS YUMMY.

Dear Angus,
I have a strange fascination with Cannibals, how do I cure my "cravings" for macrabe?
Signed,
-Hungry.

Dear Hungry,
You have a fascination is with cannibals? I truly believe you wanted to say that you have a fascination with cannibalism. (Cannibals are the people who eat people, you dumb fuck.)
I have the same fascination! Seriously. I’ve always thought that eating human flesh would be the best thing for us! Slow cook a big thigh muscle with some butter and garlic and it’s sure to have all of the nutrients and vitamins a human body needs. Why?
Because it’s human!
Personally, I think we need to farm people (stupid, ugly, poor people of course) for meat. We could even treat them badly.
But seeing as all of that is currently illegal, try hufu. It’s human flavoured tofu!
Unfortunately, the original Hufu website is gone, and it's almost impossible to find info on how to obtain some. But here’s the hufu Wikipedia entry: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hufu
Does anyone out there know where one can buy hufu? If so, please write to me with that info.
-Angus Oblong.

 

THAT FUCKING DOG AT WORK.

Dear Angus,
My coworker keeps bringing her stupid yappy dog to work with her. While our place of business is "pet friendly," as the day progresses, I increasingly have the urge to hit the dog in the face with a scalding hot iron. Am I a bad person? How am I to focus on my work when all I hear is high-pitched yapping and crazy dog-lady baby talk? I have drawn up plans to murder them both but I'm having trouble making it look like an accident. Please help!
-Passive-Aggressive in Pleasanton.

Dear Passive blah blah,
Yes, you're a bad person. So kill the fucking dog. Or better yet, get a cow! Bring the cow into your workplace and sue the shit out of the company if they say you can't have a cow or if they fire you for bringing it to work. God, I'm a genius. Glad to help!
-Angus Oblong.

 

 

WHO IN THE HELL IS VLADIMIR?

Dear Angus,
I am really just looking for someone to explain to me why Vladimir Putin looks and acts so much like C Montgomery Burns from the Simpsons.
Sincerely,
-Trying not to be political and failing miserably in PDX Oregon.

Dear Trying,
I honestly don't know who Vladimir Pudding is, thus I am unable to answer your question.
Now ask me something interesting.
-Angus Oblong.

 

YOU WON'T BE BACK...

Dear Angus,
I have had the pleasure of being invited over to the Oblong Palace once before. A friend brought me to a debauch-fest party of yours. I had so much fun and you and I even spoke for a while! It seemed you liked me, even calling us new BFF’s. This thrilled my loins. Is there any chance I will ever be invited to your wonderland of a home again?
-Missing all the cool décor.

Dear Missing,
First of all, thank you for wanting to return to my admitedly amazing home. But I honestly don't remember you. Although I can pretty much guarantee that if you were at The Oblong Palace of Pleasures during a party, I was very drunk (or if it was the Green party, I was completely out of my mind high on ecstasy thankyouverymuch, Doreen). You should also know that I tend to use that "We're new BFF's" line on pretty much everyone, so don't be too flattered; it's always a lie.
I'm sure that I liked you at that moment, but I have very little interest in getting to know you while I'm sober. Given the small amount of information, I cannot recall whom you might be. Were you that fat girl with that fucked up nappy-ass hair and I asked if you were wearing a wig?? If you are, I haaated you! You were so annoying! Will you send me a gift?
-Angus Oblong.

TRY PILLS AND BOOZE.

Dear Angus Oblong,
   I could seriously use your advice. It has been taking me 45 minutes to leave my house everyday because of a strange fear that it will blow up while I am gone; or some pyschopath will come in while I'm away and decapitate my poor defenseless kitties.
  Before I leave, I have to make sure my a.c. is set to a nice 78 degrees. My computer and t.v. have to be unplugged. I check the oven and all the burners on the stove to make sure they are off. I go through every room in my house and make sure all lights are off. I check the windows and set sharp objects below them (Home Alone style). I check the doors and make sure they are locked... twice. While I am leaving, I make sure the garage is closed, only to drive back after I traveled a miles distance to make sure it is still closed. If a neighbor is outside, I will not leave until they go inside. If there are repairmen at another house I will not leave until they leave the neighborhood or go inside.
  Anywho, the point is: It's making me very late for work and I am running out of excuses to tell my boss while I am late. I guess I could easily start getting ready to leave earlier, but I forgot to mention I am lazy too. Any advice or new excuses would be grand.
  Sincerely yours,
-Late A Lot (but not the I missed my period and I'm pregnant late, because I am a boy and that's impossible... except for that man who got pregnant, but it turned out he used to be a she... I saw it on Oprah... you should read into that, very interesting.) :P

Dear Late A Lot,
Let me start off by saying that up until your signature, I thought I was reading a letter from a woman. Maybe because you’re clearly insane. Maybe because you are always late. Or maybe it's because you used the word, "kitties." Perhaps I’ve picked up on something you haven’t; that you’re a woman trapped in a male’s body. I don’t know. I don’t care.
That said, you are clearly fucked up. The word, “phobia” comes to mind when I read your list. (OCD as well, but that’s so 1990’s.) So I searched through my complete list of phobias only to find that you’re NOT an ecophobic, which is someone afraid to leave home. Nor do you have domatophobia or oikophobia, which are fears of houses or being in houses.
Seems you’re the opposite of that. You want to be at home.
So… agoraphobia is a fear of leaving the house or of open spaces. Maybe you have that. And athazagoraphobia is a fear of forgetting something. Then there’s scelerophibia, a fear of burglars. Either way, you’re all fucked up. What you need is pills. I’ve recently discovered that taking a xanax or valium before ANY activity makes it ten times more pleasurable and easier to get through. And you know how they say don’t mix pills with booze? Fuck that. Booze makes pills way better! And to heighten the fun factor, try staying awake for as long as you can, rather than giving in to the inevitable pass-out. Wow! Try this combo and you’re in for a fun time with little or no worries at all!
Hmm, I think I’ll take a pill and have some whiskey now. Giving advice is taxing.
-Angus Oblong.

 

I'M SORRY, BUT I DON'T CARE...

Dear Angus,
I've designed my own college major around Music and Law, and I plan to go into setting up Venues and festivals, while networking musicians, and maybe one day having a production studio. I also want to include my dreams of legalizing cannabis into this career. do you have any good ideas for internships that involve music-law and helping to legalize cannabis for all?
-Blazing the Cali Green-

Dear Blazing,
Honestly, I have no idea. I don't care. Your questions about Music and Law bore me. So let's change the subject, shall we? Today I ordered that pasta from Pizza Hut? It was really fucking good! I got the one with chicken and white sauce. I ate it right out of the pan while watching cartoons. But now I kind of want to throw up.
-Angus Oblong.

 

FYI, I'M JACKING OFF YOUR DOG.

Dear Mr Oblong,
I have a problem... I have this weird neighbor who keeps stealing my
dog. I keep having to ransom him back with copious amounts of vodka.
What do I do?

-Vodka-less in la la land.

p.s. the fucker is always wearing clown makeup... even in the shower!
what's up with that?


Ha.. Ha.. Ha... You so funny.
I know who this is. I suppose right here is as good a place as any to tell you that your dog loves coming over here because I let him hump me. And I jack him off. If you "took care" of your dog at home, maybe he wouldn't feel the need to seek his (ahem) needs outside of your house.

Angus Oblong.

 

NAMING YOUR DOG.

So, my new dalmation, which will be here later this year......
I was going to name her Maggie Mae at Shane's suggestion.  However, Maggie is on the top ten list of most popular pet names.....so it can't be used.  
I was thinking Juniper Mae. (which will probably go to June Bug for daily use).
What do you think??
If you hate Juniper Mae, what would you name her?

Dear I Don't Know What to Name My Dog,
Name your dog R2-D2. OR! Wait. I've got a book of baby names. I occasionally read thru it to find new names for my characters. I shall open this book to a random page and point blindly to a name and that is what you shall call your new dalmation. Hold on, I have to find the book. Be right back-
Ok found it. It's entitled, "6,000 names for your baby." And your dog's name shall be!... Are you ready?
Bridger! It's Old English and means bridge builder.
Or call her R2-D2, your choice.
And you're welcome.

Angus Oblong.