The Fur Files - Douchebag Dilemma, Mad For Make-Up Sex, Wandering Eye
Madame Floretta “Fern” De Villiers, a.k.a. “Amanda Fox” is an author of erotic fiction and commentary. This is her weekly advice column.
Friday, October 1st, 2010
Yo Fern,
In the immortal words of Kanye West, “I don’t know what it is with females, but I’m not too good at that $#@%.”
Sincerely,
The Ultimate Douchebag
Dear Douchebag,
Let me answer your question in a way you are likely to understand…
One, two, one, two
Ahhh yeah…
[random sounds barely recognizable as beatboxing]
Just kidding…I can’t rap.
I will say however that if Kanye West can get people to worship him for being a complete a--hole, then the man’s a genius – an undeserving genius, but a genius nonetheless. That’s just my personal opinion.
Which begs the question, are YOU a genius? Probably not. Thus, I think I should provide you with a few of life’s fundamental guidelines. Please read carefully…
1. Don’t EVER send pictures of your genitalia to anyone over the Internet, especially if your face is visible in the image as well.
2. Wearing all red suits only works if you are Santa Claus or if your net worth is in excess of fifty million dollars.
3. High levels of alcohol consumption can lead to hypertension, liver disease, chronic pancreatitis, and even cancer.
One last bit of advice: Don’t try to change who you are. If you were born a douchebag and raised a douchebag, chances are, you are going to stay a douchebag. So find yourself a woman too stupid to know any better, and the two of you, stay the heck away from me.
________________________________________
Dear Fern,
You seem to be an understanding and upfront individual, so I’m hoping you can help me with my problem. You see, I am trapped in an abusive relationship. When I first met Mona, I thought she was going to be my perfect match. She was kind and loving – a real peach. It didn’t take long however, and she became an uncaring and frequently brutal mistress.
For example, quite often, she forgets to clean my washroom, and then when I poop in the middle of the front hall, she hits me with the broom. Let me tell you, those bristles can be a real you-know-what when they get stuck in my you-know-where. Sometimes she even kicks me when I accidentally get in her way. Furthermore, I feel a bit like Oliver Twist – forced to beg for my supper as Mona only thinks to feed me once every couple of days.
Continued on the next page
Follow Technorati