22 January 2010


(Photograph copyright 2010, all rights reserved.)

Be prepared! I've had a shitty week by just about all the ways you can think of, so there will be cursing and swearing. If you can't handle it, then you can't say you haven't been warned.

Yes kids, it's a photo of gas meters this week. Now why, you might ask, did Messy pick gas meters? Could they be relevant to the letters at Dear Prudence this week? Or is she being ironic in some obscure fashion? Nope. Not really. Although I did have some notion about slapping people who just gas on about their problems without actually lifting their asses to DO anything about them...

Yep, life REALLY IS a Country and Western song for some people....

1. Oh, you poor darling! Your husband fucked your best friend and now he doesn't want you to say anything to her so he can pretend it never happened...


Listen to what Hank Williams had to say about it. Listen five or six times until it sinks in, shithead.....because yours is a forlorn hope. That sleazy lout you married will NEVER cry and cry because YOU told him that fucking your best friend was all right with you!

Moron. What is with you? You know your husband cheated. You know that your so-called "best friend" eagerly participated. And you were willing to buy the whole "I'm sorry honey, we were drunk and she fell on my dick" excuse? That one ranks right up there with "He looked like he was going to hit me so I hit him back first" as the lamest excuse to act like a jackass I've ever heard!


There are a bunch of reasons he has for trying to force you to keep the secret, you know. They could still screwing around. Keeping your "friend" around you means that HE can invite her over and pretend it's all innocent and neighborly. If you confront your friend, he's afraid that her story won't match his and HE might get in some real trouble. He might like your friend's husband and wants to keep socializing with them. OR, are you ready for this? This "big reveal" on his part could be his way of making you suffer.

It doesn't matter. Tell your "friend" that she's persona non grata with you. Get rid of the bitch. Tell her why. Tell her husband why. Just. Get. Rid. Of. Them. Do you really have a burning desire to have to look her in the eye and pretend to be buddies after this? How much of a masochist are you? Maybe you think you deserve to watch the video every night, too and watch them laugh about what a couple of chumps you and her husband are?

Tell your erstwhile husband to pound sand. His actions AND his "reason" were just a bunch of juvenile nonsense, and you've now given him permission to do whatever he wants, as long as he looks contrite. He's a prick. He's an asshole. He's a waste of skin.

Why would you keep any of these losers around you? Or is being treated like shit something that you've aspired to ever since you were a little girl putting wedding dresses on Barbie?

2. Oh my Gawd! I've heard of lousy cooks before, but this is just ridiculous. She really makes you sick? You're afraid to tell YOUR OWN WIFE that you get the shits every time she lifts a finger in the kitchen? How dumb can you be and still be able to breathe unassisted? Worse, if you're that stupid, how did you get your job in the first place?


Oh, and get yourself in to see a doctor, genius. You could have gluten or lactose intolerance - best to eliminate those first. Sure, a colonoscopy isn't the most fun you could have on a day off, but hey, It's better than wondering if your next meal will be your last, right?

You didn't say what exactly your wife is feeding you or if you have reason to suspect poison. Maybe your wife realizes just how stupid you are and wants to get rid of you. I don't know. I do know that if your food makes you feel like this , then she may be overdoing it on the spices. It's called, according to The Boy, who has had the reaction after overindulging on Indian street food, Flaming Fire Shit and is apparently excruciatingly painful. I can't really say. I do try and avoid these things, but then I have a sincere aversion to pain.

You ask, "How do I tell my wife that her continued cooking will eventually kill me..." Hmm. Let's see. Try this, "Honey, if you cook for me again, I'll probably end up shitting out what's left of my brain on the way to the emergency room just before I turn myself inside out entirely and die in agony"? Will that work, do you think?


3. Ok. Your situation well and truly sucks, and no one seems to get that YOU were subjected to an ugly experience yourself. I can't imagine how awful that night was for you, and how being reminded of it every day when you go out to get the mail must hurt. I can't tell you to SHADDAP! You don't deserve it. You've been far more patient than anyone has a right to expect.

Prudie advises that you box up the garbage on your lawn and send a nice letter to the parents of the dead kid.... but I don't think that's what you should do. You have no obligation here, and the fact that the parents are completely ignoring your position proves that they are jerks of the first water.

My advice is to pick up all of the rotting teddy bears, dead flowers and plastic crap and put it in a green garbage bag, which you will place in the garage. After a week, put it out with the trash. Every time some moron puts more crap on your lawn, do the same. Eventually they'll give up. It could take awhile.

Now, even if you never send it, here's the letters the parents SHOULD get:

Dear parents,


I've taken down the shrine to imbecility on my property and I will not permit this nonsense to continue. I'm not interested in being reminded of the night I spent watching your kid bleed to death in front of my home because someone convinced him that this is a legitimate life choice instead of a paean to rampant, immature assholism.

I understand the impulse to pretend that the dead are all innocent little angels that never put a foot wrong in their lives. It's bullshit, but it probably makes you feel better both about him and the fact that you raised an idiot who didn't see anything wrong with getting behind the wheel of a car when he was so shit-faced drunk that he shouldn't even have been ambulatory. I'm having a hard time mustering any sympathy for you while you pretend that your son was some sort of little darling and that the evil tree just leaped out at him on the street.

There's no doubt in my mind that you and all his friends are probably weeping and wailing about what a "good guy" he was and how he was a starting quarterback, a scholar, and a really fun fella. None of it changes the his cause of death; Stupid, with a side of booze.

I suppose that the only good thing to come of this is that he managed to kill himself and not anyone else. Most drunks aren't so efficient. They have passengers or hit pedestrians or cross medians and kill whole families instead. His "friends" didn't exactly cover themselves with glory, either, did they? After all, I'm betting that not a single one of them thought they should try and get his keys, or call you.

So don't put any more crap in my yard. Leave my tree alone - it's probably the only reason his car didn't crash through my bedroom while I was sleeping. I don't want to hear from you, see you, or speak to you ever again. Tell his friends not to come around here or they will be charged with trespassing. I'll have to live with seeing that accident for the rest of my life. I don't need you to remind me about it.


Lest anyone decide to take me to task because of my assumption that the kid was drunk - the LW gave that away when he/she said that the kid was on his way home from a "celebration". 'Nuff said.

4. Ya know... I just have to agree with Smagboy and Schuyler on this one. So the economy sucks - no news there. As always, when the economy sucks, people decide to join up with the latest pyramid direct sales ripoff and inflict this shit on their friends. I get it. So


and get a grip on yourself and more importantly, your balls!

Do you have a garage full of K-Tel crap? You know, those were the guys that marketed the first Teflon pans until the finish started falling off in chunks. How could you forget the K-Tel Patty Stacker - just twenty bucks for a plastic tube that you cram full of ground meat products separated into patties with handy dandy aluminum rings? How about the Popiel Pocket Fisherman? Amway? Avon? Mary Kay? That cheesy lingerie company that sells the all-polyester silk-like undies that fall apart the first time your lovie dove puts them on?

Why, all of those things and many more were sold by the millions door to door and on TV through at LEAST the last three recessions. People DID get sucked in on both sides - buying and selling. I'm sure there's a listing in the DSM somewhere for the trauma that people suffer when their so-called "friends" relentlessly try to sell them crap!

So what's happening to you? You buy this shit out of guilt? Not from friends and family you don't. Most of us have learned the art of telling would-be salespeople to get lost, even when they are loved ones.

No, you have clients demanding bribes to keep dealing with you. No doubt at all, it's a crappy thing to do to you. But threats? I can see if you were running a restaurant and Big Joey was sent over to make sure you were doing business with the "right" laundry facility. That's a little frightening, right? But that's not your problem, is it? No, you have people selling band candy and floor solution threatening to...what? Not use your services any more?

It's your decision, of course. But you might want to point out that you're in business to make money, too, and that's not going to happen if you have to shop just to do business. Duh.


  1. My first thought on the IBS guy was that his kitchen is full of cockroaches and rat feces, and that THAT's what's making him sick. The 2nd is that he's sick anyway, and is blaming it on his wife than admitting he might actually be sick.

    I knew a "woman" who survived wrapping her car around a tree. The mother of the boy whose bedroom was right behind the tree went to the hospital and read the driver the riot act: She'd have killed the child without the tree being there; she had no business EVER driving like that; and she owed the homeowner a new tree.

  2. I notice a whole lot of folks on the Fray were VERY sympathetic toward the kid and his family and refused to acknowledge that it was the homeowner who suffered some pretty nasty trauma.

    After all, the kid is dead. HE doesn't care. His parents have had more than enough time to get past the "need" for a shrine in someone else's yard - they are so self-centered that they aren't even considering that someone else was involved. Time to get past the obvious stuff.

  3. "Love is a burnin' thing, and it makes a fiery ring..."

    I mean, really? Alongside the fact he's a Lawyer, whom one might expect to be frontal enough to verbalize his issue with explosive diarrhea, I might agree with CoolOne there, 'cause if there's one thing a lawyer can do it's deflect blame from where blame is due. More: take any recipe from Food Network, and if all the ingredients are at least proportionally and correctly used the only issue might be that undercooked chicken or beef and a dance with salmonella, which would result in worse than the squirts.

    Stupid lawyer with a bowel disorder? Very possibly.

    Fake ass letter from Slate (again)? Very probably.

    Food Network ought to get a (real) lawyer and sue those fuckers!

    "I went down down down and the shit piled higher..."

  4. That's why I'm thinking spicy could be the issue "...and it burns, burns, burns..."

  5. Good, spicy stuff you cooked up this week, Messy! And, it didn't send me to the rest room all day! So that's always good. :-)

    And, to me, it *can't* be the wife's cooking or kitchen cleanliness, etc., else she'd be sick all day, too (unless, as you say, he's got health issues that her cooking exacerbates).

  6. Ah that flaming shit syndrome... pretty bad but some people are nuts about spices.

    As for this weeks letters I couldn't get too excited about them... much prefer itchy balls, etc...

  7. ps: love the gas meters....

  8. Kati...the gas meters seemed apropos for the week, especially given poop boy! I took a bunch of photos of Chicago alleys last fall, so you'll be seeing more like that.

  9. Rim of fire? Flaming hydro-shit? Whatta bunch of pansies. If you can't handle spicy food, stay away from it. Go back home and eat your nice baked potato.

    But wait! Kati reminded me of this video - featuring my cousin, Chief Itchy Balls.



  10. Hey don't look at me, kemo sabe! It's The Boy that has an affinity for Middle Eastern and Indian street food, and when you eat that stuff, There Can Be Consequences. It's all part of the thrill. He finds in Tony Bourdain a kindred spirit...