Whatever…

TimCase sent me this email: “Goddess, will you be my friend and put my penis in your mouth?” Bastard! I took notes on that Oprah show. And I know now that friends don’t ask friends to suck cock! Now asking strangers to suck your cock is an all together different story…

I am currently reading “Sex Disasters and How To Survive Them.” My favorite chapter so far has been “Something is stuck in my butt and I can’t get it out.” Been there, done that, the paramedics couldn’t stop laughing.

Word on the street is that South and his peeps will be rolling back into town today. He is gonna have a fight on his hands because I’m not giving up MY site. Possession is 9/10’s of the law, baby. I have squatter’s rights. Speaking of stealing someone’s possessions, the last time I updated and WAS PERMITTED TO LIVE AT CASA DE SOUTH, I stole Mike’s favorite t-shirt and have been sleeping in it ever since. It smells just like him. An odd combination of pussy, sushi and gun powder. Oh, and remember when I interviewed South way back when Christ was a cowboy? He told me his favorite meal was sushi, but after perusing his freezer I know he lied. This is Mike’s favorite food. He especially likes ’em batter dipped with a side of dachshunds. I mean fries.

I got this email from Carrie:

Dear Goddess,
Your articles are always so insightful. Where do you get your ideas? I keep trying and trying, but all I get are rejection slips. Any advice? By the way, I’ll be you are really hot and sexy.

Dear Carrie,
I have developed a very strict regimen that I honestly believe has helped strengthen my creativity tremendously. Every morning, I awake at 6 am and, after hitting the snooze button 23 times, I promptly begin my day with an hour of Tae-bo. Exercise gets the blood flowing to the brain. Then I immerse myself in deep prayer and meditation. I find that pondering the truths of the Universe helps to center me. Once I feel totally centered and at one with life, I begin drinking heavily. By noon, I am totally sloshed off my ass and feeling very “creative.” Like most great writers of our time–Hemmingway, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Snoopy (trust me, any dog who thinks he was in WWI is a raging alcoholic)–I truly believe that the muse can only be found at the bottom of a Southern Comfort bottle. Unless it’s the day before payday, and then it can be found at the bottom of a bottle of Thunderbird. By the way, I find that rejection slips make great wallpaper. I’ve used mine to wallpaper my entire house, and that of many, many friends and relatives….Good luck.

And this one from Susan:

Dear Goddess,
How can I tell when it’s time to stop breastfeeding my son? I’m confused.

Dear Susan,
If your son is bigger than you are, it’s time to stop breastfeeding. If, in the middle of breastfeeding, you son says, “Damn, I could really use a cigarette right about now!” it’s time to stop. And if your son says, “Let’s speed this up a little, Mom. I have to be at work in a half hour,” it’s definitely time to let him suckle from some other woman’s teat.