Pardon me while I dust off the keyboard and stretch the 1s and 2s. It’s been far too long and I apologize. Luckily
But I’m back. Our man date was sweet. Resident dingle berry KK got engaged. The Giants are up and down. Bill Simmons has successfully removed his proverbial floating ribs. I bought a Lotto scratcher and won $25 bucks. My brother moved to
As you know, every morning I read the sports page. It helps get my day moving if you catch my drift. But I haven’t been completely honest with you. It’s not just the sports page. I also can’t really get going without reading Dear Abby. Call it my inner Jewish woman but I have to check in to read the average American’s quandaries and some old bag’s canned responses. I can’t explain it. I’m sure there is a correlation with my mother’s fascination with retelling disturbing real-life stories but that’s for my therapist to figure out. (side note: I don’t have a therapist. But the thought seemed to end better by saying so. I also never won $25 bucks on a Lotto scratcher as I eluded to earlier. I secretly hope that by lying about scratchers it will turn my sports gambling fortunes around. You see, I bet on the Celtics to cover the 4.5 points – killed it – and also bet the under at 191.5. What the fuck? The Celtics almost scored 191 themselves. I got greedy. Never parlay. Start small. Get some confidence. Then blow your load. I’m horrible at sports betting.)
Where was I? Ah yes. Dear Abby. Why do I bring this up today? Well because today the questions and answers were just too much for me to handle. Usually there’s a question about what sort of fountain pen a woman should use when responding to her friend’s son’s 5-year old’s kindergarten graduation brunch invitation. And Abby responds, delicately, appropriately and with a bit of a lesson along the way. It’s the equivalent of calling your mother every morning. But not today. Today was so ridiculous, the questions were so contrived and the responses so dated I had to chime in.
Let the chiming begin.
These are actual questions from today’s paper…with my responses. I hope the folks asking are listening. Because my time is valuable.
Dear Abby: Summer begins today, and many parents are wondering how to keep their children entertained. I have a simple answer: Visit your local Library. Most libraries offer summer programs for kids that not only encourage them to read, but also provide access to wonderful educational opportunities. My children are excited to be part of the library’s summer program, and I am thrilled that they have something to look forward to.
BOOK MOM IN
Dear Book Mom: Dude, wake up and smell the paint fumes. Your kids aren’t thrilled to go the library this summer. They’re thrilled for you to drop them off so little Billy can take whip-its in the parking lot with the older kids and little Suzie can update her Facebook profile with provocative self pics she took in the bathroom. I bet you also think your husband is thrilled when you decide to wear the yellow nightgown instead of the teal nightgown. Actually he’s most thrilled when you’re out running errands so he can pull one off in peace while indulging his sick ear hole fetish online. Enjoy your summer. And K.I.T. – Magglio
Dear Abby: I have two children under the age of 11. When they address adults I have taught them to preface it with “Ms.” or “Mr.” We consider it a form of respect, and although I realize that each parent has her (or his) own take on this, it has begun to bother me when the neighborhood children address us by our firt names. Am I making a big deal out of nothing? WONDERING IN
Dear Ms. Wondering: No, you’re right to make a big deal out of this. You’re also right to make a big deal when one of the children leaves a dish out, has a spot on their t-shirt or doesn’t put their Transformers away. Next time one of those ornery neighborhood kids comes over, try a little dish washing liquid in their morning cereal. That’ll show them. Then when they’re doubled over with the shits ask them to call you daddy. No, mister daddy. Now do you feel like a grown-up? You dumb bitch. – Mr. Magglio
Happy Friday everyone.
Damn it feels good to be a gangster.