Whiplash Smile

Good late morning, everyone! It’s YPF once again, freshly showered after another run-in with the ash can. Guess that’s the last time I call Serra an old slut, now, isn’t it? It’s time to make with the asswaiver and get this show on the road, so here goes:

As you begin your journey with Your Psychic Fiend, please keep in mind:

1. It’s Psychic FIEND, not Psychic FRIEND. Your Psychic Fiend must be mindful of copyright infringement issues just like everyone else, especially considering that Serra’s the copyright Nazi unless it suits her to be otherwise.
2. All answers are for entertainment only. If you don’t want to be entertained by smartass answers, don’t ask serious questions. Hell, don’t ask questions at all—anyone expecting serious answers on Ask Your Psychic Fiend Day will just piss themselves off.
3. The ONLY offense intended is to those inbred spawn of Larry The Cable Guy who pretend to have psychic gifts in order to make a buck and run up your phone bill. I have the utmost respect for those truly gifted with the sixth sense. I can completely respect folks who accept money for readings of Tarot and other divination arts, as honest, respectful and caring clairvoyants who serve a purpose in the Universe. However, lying-bitch whoremongers like Miss Cleo and her ilk should be strangled with a telephone cord.

Firsties on the Comment Me Now list was Ian, so YPF gets to torture him first:

I´m feeling kinda dizzy and I´m starving all the time…AM I PREGNANT???????

Let’s use the arrangement of ice in my Coke (real Coke glass, trademark and all) glass full of Mountain Dew for the answers today, shall we?

Answer: The answer’s not clear here, Ian—what’s clear is how you could possibly become preggers without having done anything to become that way? Masturbating makes you go blind, hon, not get pregnant. If you’re trying to make babies, consensual activities are essential.

On your second question, Serra says she’s not answering that one—see post farther down the page, you Latin smartass!

Next up for torment is Anonymous Coworker. YPF read Mokie’s post today—not half bad!

I’m going to Oktoberfest at the local Ren Fest this weekend. How many beers will I drink before I can’t tell “5 Minute Othello” from “5 Minute Macbeth”? P.S. I majored in English lit, so I’m VERY familiar with both plays.

Hm, have you ever noticed how remarkably much Mountain Dew resembles pee? I didn’t either until now.

Answer: Watch for the Moor. When you don’t see one, it’s Macbeth. If either everyone looks like one or no one does, you’ve reached that point you’re looking for. Best of luck and be sure to tip your serving wench heartily.

Mike at RANDOM RAMBLINGS (he shouts it, why shouldn’t a bitch?) came back again…and again…and again…

Ahhhhh…..the nail clippers are missing around here again…..Do you honestly feel they may be residing in the kid’s tackle box like the last time they came up missing?….and what’s your take on why nail clippers are vital fishing gear?

and Part Deux:

Hoping more than one question is allowed….but it’s your fault…..You have me curious on what’s in the bar of soap in my shower….lol…..I think it’s either coast….or irish spring….if that matters?

Answer: YPF doesn’t have to look at a glassful of pee on ice to know the answer here, Mike. You know as damned well as a bitch does that’s exactly where they are.

Nail clippers are the single most indispensable thingy one needs to have in a fishing box! They’re the thing easiest to use to nip off line after tying a fisherman’s knot to secure one’s hook. If you need to make up a leader, just grab and snip. Best of all, you have to get VERY VERY into catching bottle bass in order to FORGET how to use one.

Give in, give up—buy your son his own pair and hide yours until he begins to remember he’s got his own fucking nail clippers now.

As to what’s in your soap–that’s a matter for another series of posts, because the answer is long and full of nasty chemicals that are bad for your skin. You should get Serra to hook you up with the good shit–she can even make you one scented like Irish Spring but minus the unpronounceable crap inside. That’s just the way she rolls, homey.

Our next vic—I mean guest is Paige. Congrats on the successful relocation and here’s hoping it serves you well.

I have a friend who I’d like to get to know better, but he always seems to be to busy to talk to me. Is he avoiding me?

Answer: The twenty million six ice cubes tell me there’s a little bit more to it than avoiding you. Yes, he’s avoiding you, but it’s not for the usual reason. You see, there’s this psycho bunny boiler that’s been pursuing him, and once she’s been tasered, sedated and hauled off to Loony Land, he’d like to have you still alive to date and mate. If the Happy Homewrecker finds out another female is after him, she’ll sneak into your house and leave a Black Mamba snake lying in wait to bite your face and kill you in an unspeakably horrible manner. It’s just coincidence that she only has one eye and looks like Daryl Hannah.

Just be patient—he’ll have loads more time once the bitch is behind reinforced glass and full of Thorazine.

Another visitor to the realm is Grend31. Grend31, I’m still waiting for my tinfoil hat—I’ll trade you your drool back for it.

Why are stupid people allowed to breed?

Answer: The easy answer is “Because it’s a human rights violation to kidnap and forcibly sterilize them.” The deeper answer is that since nearly everyone’s got the NEED to breed, there’s as many opportunities for the stupid to do it as there are for the smart like us. However, since we smart people know enough to use contraception (while the stupid can’t even spell “cat” let alone “contraception”), we reproduce at a slower rate than they. As a result, it’s painfully obvious that there are more Doomed To Be Stoopid people born every day.

There’s only one solution: Get going, smart people, and FUCK! Reproduce yourselves! Make a smarter world, one squalling shit factory at a time.

Beow01|=, one of your answers is above, and here’s the answer for part two:

YPF has no frelling idea. Serra didn’t remove it, it just poofed one day. Serra suspects the site no longer exists, hence no icon, but has decided life is too short to chase the fuckers down and will wait until a better rating system comes along before she can be bothered with it again. Any system whose #1 ranking blog belongs to someone with no brains in their heads and not enough sense to at least download and re-upload a pic they’re stealing from here is either inherently flawed or some fucker tampered with the voting. Serra believes strongly in #2 and hence can’t be arsed to mess with it any longer.

Another question comes to us from Jeff:

I’m just wondering if I’ll ever find a woman and when I’ll ever get laid again, it’s been, ohhh…several years. I hope my psychic friend can provide me with some insight!

Answer: The liquids swirling in the glass forecast that when it happens, there will be lots of heavy, labored breathing as a finger strokes along the sweaty glass—I mean skin…oops, that’s me playing with the glass.

Seriously, it’s difficult to date in your situation. Perhaps matters will improve once you’re in one place more often. In your current line of work, it’s hard to say “when you’ll be back around” and that makes it nearly impossible to break a dry spell like yours.

Once you’ve got a little more regular physical schedule, you’ll be snapped up like the catch you are. Oh—and, I’m Your Psychic FIEND. With FRIENDS like me, who needs enemas?

NEXT!

Oops…there isn’t a next—so that’s it for this week’s Ask Your Psychic Fiend. No applause, just…actually I do want the applause, please, in the comment section.

It’s that time again, folks–time for another round of Ask Your Psychic Fiend! For those new to the phenomenon, Ask Your Psychic Fiend is a Friday feature where the insane little pseudo-psychic inside of me takes your questions, plays with something to find the answers, then posts them for your shits and grins. Anyone may ask, the only charge is an occasional comment.

Here’s the fine print:

Note that the “Ask Your Psychic Fiend” feature is for entertainment purposes only. Use “Ask Your Psychic Fiend” for skin use only in diluted form, as it can cause irritation and sensitivities if used uncut. Do not ask questions which might expose any confidential issues, identities, relationships or other sensitive topics. If there’s a remote possibility you’ll read YPF’s response and think, “That’s not funny motherfucker!” then don’t ask that fucking question. Do not taunt Your Psychic Fiend. Psychic Fiend is a trademark-pending product of Knightdreams, Inc. All rights and copyrights are reserved to D. J. Lovely. All answers are meant in good fun–in other words, if you can’t take a joke then don’t Ask Your Psychic Fiend anything because you won’t like the answers.

Oh, and fuck you if you can’t take a joke.

Answers will be posted Friday and this post will be stuck to the top of the blog until 6 am Friday. New posts will appear under it (assuming I get over blogger’s block and fucking write them), so make sure you peek under this post for them.

Good morning and welcome to the late edition of Ask Your Psychic Fiend! As Serra suspected, the answers to your questions are late due to her appointment to cut and color her hair. Even after it was cut to shoulder length, it still took an hour and a half to color. But, since this is YPF’s time and not hers, we’re going to get right to it.

Here’s the obligatory asswaiver:

As you begin your journey with Your Psychic Fiend, please keep in mind:

1. It’s Psychic FIEND, not Psychic FRIEND. Your Psychic Fiend must be mindful of copyright infringement issues just like everyone else, especially considering that Serra’s the copyright Nazi unless it suits her to be otherwise.
2. All answers are for entertainment only. If you don’t want to be entertained by smartass answers, don’t ask serious questions. Hell, don’t ask questions at all—anyone expecting serious answers on Ask Your Psychic Fiend Day will just piss themselves off.
3. The ONLY offense intended is to those inbred slunts who pretend to have psychic gifts in order to make a buck and run up your phone bill. I have the utmost respect for those truly gifted with the sixth sense. I can completely respect folks who accept money for readings of Tarot and other divination arts, as honest, respectful and caring clairvoyants who serve a purpose in the Universe. However, lying-bitch whoremongers like Miss Cleo and her ilk should be strangled with a telephone cord.

Now, our first question is from Paige:

Yeah, first comment! Okay, question, I need a question…

“Who is, alive or dead, the fairest of them all?”

Richard Simmons.

Oh, wait a minute—you said “fairest” not “fairiest” Let me look at the Kona Grounds of Happiness…

I am, bitches! My hair turned out awesome! –Serra

Ah, shit, we’re SO not doing this again this week. Go away Serra or I’ll abuse the body while I’m in it and make you deal with feeling like shit!

Answer: Fairness is in the eye of the beholder. I have to say that Biskie, Serra’s daughter, is indeed the most fair. Of course I’m biased, but you asked ME, not Mirror Mirror On The Wall.

The next question is from Anonymous Coworker:

I am not very fond of my job, but it’s not too bad either. What could I do that I would really enjoy, and how do I go about doing that?

Answer: Da Grounds tell YPF that you could make some excellent money writing a book about all the dumbass questions you’re asked at work. You’d have to change the names to protect the stoopid, but it’d be so much fun!

Oh, and thanks for the kitty pics!

The next victim—YPF means postulant—is the mysterious Brigadiere:

Dear Ms. Fiend, Esq.,

I have, on occasion, the need to “not be seen”. What is the best way to go about this “not being seen” business?

Yours incognito,
Sir Brigadiere General Grend31, Mrs.

p.s. As they say in all those spy films, “I was never here.” *nudge nudge grin grin wink wink say n’more!

That reminds me more of the CIA agent from MASH than a spy film, but it’s your question, Brigadiere, so here goes…

Answer: Ask Smiggins—he’s awfully good at it. Haven’t you ever wondered how he manages it? HINT: It involves buckwheat honey and fruit flies.

Ian’s back with another question:

I´m getting very tired of men… REALLY!
Should I become a LESBIAN,sorry, I mean straight?

Answer: Da Grounds show what’s been true throughout most of history—about the time you’re sick and tired of chasing ass, dating, trying to get laid, failing to get laid, and generally wondering what is WRONG with some people, THAT’S when The One walks in, sits down, and announces s/himself. It never fails—just when you’re not up to putting yourself out any further in the pursuit of sex, it taps you on the shoulder, throws you down, rips your clothes off and sucks your cock. Since The One is persistent along with everything else you want and need, sooner or later it’ll make itself the obvious choice. Have patience, Oh Cute One—your turn is coming.

VegasGustan is back among the questing living:

Can time truley not give you time?

Sorry, I’ve been around 80s music too much.

Answer: Boy, have you EVER! And thanks to you I’m driving Serra nuts with the Bangles’ “Hazy Shade of Winter” because YPF can’t get it out of our head! Heeeeee! No, time does not give you time—it takes time to make time so make time to be there.

NEXT!

Hiya Moe!

Will this be a cold hard winter for the Northest, and if so, will it include oodles of snow!?

Answer: Da Grounds say that while it’ll be a bit colder in the Northwest, that doesn’t mean you’ll get to go sledding down your favorite hill any more than you did last winter. You’re going to have to go bug Beo to get your snow fix in any volume.

MooCow chimes in with a good one:

What are peeps really made from?

Answer: I’d tell you, but then I’d have to kill you. Seriously, they’re made from sugar, sugar, sugar, guar gum, flavor and preservatives. The preservatives and flavor are an antimatter mix developed at Just Born, and since it’s a trade secret they don’t have to tell you it’s in there. They bought the technology from aliens from the planet Arachnea. The plus side is there’s actually more carbs in them than they actually weigh, which lets the company save on shipping.

Interesting aside: There’s a Peeps Fan Club–check out the website link for details.

Seamus brings another interesting question to YPF:

Dear PF,

Gah! I had a real question and missed last week – please tell me what that was? … and how much trouble it’s going to bring me?

Bufflely yours, Seamus

Hiya Seamus! Here’s your answer:

Answer: It promises to be a real pain in the ass, but the cost won’t be so much monetary as it will be mental. You’re going to have to start writing these things down when you think of them. That way you’ll have them at your buffletips when you need them.

Hope the Bufflepooch’s surgery comes off great, and give him a scritch for ol’ YPF, willya?

Cassarass has a question I’ve wondered about for awhile now:

Why is it that bologna is round and bread is square?

No seriously, do you forecast my thrift shop doing well?

Answer: Da Grounds are a bit hazy on the thrift shop—they say that four factors will really be the indicators: Location, stock, location and location. They also say to keep a bright, clean, well-lit shop, with lots of plus sizes. Hope this helps!

Here’s hoping you’re not reading this from home and have gotten your ass out safely.

Folks, YPF has to give props where they’re due–Cass is a fantastic artist–go to her blog and see!

Next up is Mr. K:

Why are this year’s freshmen so much dumber than last year’s freshmen?

Answer: Da Grounds say it’s global warming combined with early puberty and low-rise jeans. The jeans cut off blood supply to the brain, stranding the body’s blood supply in the nether regions (already in high gear due to early-onset puberty). Global warming just never helps anything.

Daisy’s getting awfully cute—is she as sweet as she looks?

Rod Renegade is back for more abuse:

My wife has a fishtank in nearly every room of the house. Six in total. The exceptions are the bathrooms, garage and my office. The biggest tanks are in the living room and our bedroom. How many pet fish and tanks are normal? She is Pisces… does that mean something?

Answer: Yes, it means something—it means she hasn’t gotten around to putting one in the bathroom yet. I do have a solution though—Buy (or build) a great big mondo reef aquarium in the room that can hold it (living room? Rec room?). Trying to maintain a salt tank should keep her going insane enough that the rest of the aquariums will become unnecessary and will disappear of their own accord. Besides, those bigassed reef aquariums are cool.

That’s it for this week’s Ask Your Psychic Fiend, folks. Please leave your comments in the proper place.

Greetings and Salivations, my questioners! It’s time once again for the weekly round of abuse known as Your Psychic Fiend. Here’s the ground rules, then we’ll get started.

As you begin your journey with Your Psychic Fiend, please keep in mind:

1. It’s Psychic FIEND, not Psychic FRIEND. Your Psychic Fiend must be mindful of copyright infringement issues just like everyone else, especially considering that Serra’s the copyright Nazi unless it suits her to be otherwise.
2. All answers are for entertainment only. If you don’t want to be entertained by smartass answers, don’t ask serious questions. Hell, don’t ask questions at all—anyone expecting serious answers on Ask Your Psychic Fiend Day will just piss themselves off.
3. The ONLY offense intended is to those inbred slunts who pretend to have psychic gifts in order to make a buck and run up your phone bill. I have the utmost respect for those truly gifted with the sixth sense. I can completely respect folks who accept money for readings of Tarot and other divination arts, as honest, respectful and caring clairvoyants who serve a purpose in the Universe. However, lying-bitch whoremongers like Miss Cleo and her ilk should be strangled with a telephone cord.

Now, for the questions. There’s some new folk here, and I’d love to see comments from them once they’ve read their answers (especially you, Muff Diver—an email and blog address wouldn’t kill you either, would it?)

First up is DancinFairy, a new reader. Nice to see you here and here’s your 15 minutes of fame on my blog:

I have a question.

Is there light at the end of my tunnel?

For today’s divination, YPF is consulting that most favored of auguries, the Wisdom O’ Da Grounds. You know what that means—yep, the coffee sucks today and I’m pissed about it again.

TWACK! Ahh, it’s all becoming clear to me now…now that I can make some nice Kona coffay….

Answer: Yep, there’s a light at the end of the tunnel, but Da Grounds say there’s a one in five chance it’s another fucking train, so watch yer fairy butt.

Next we have Brighton over at A Day in the Night of a Stripper (an excellent read, YPF might add):

Is Travis going to get the job????? Ok, I know I ask this every week, right?

Da Grounds know you already have the answer to this one (BIG congrats to Trav, btw) so they have an answer for you about LIG instead.

Answer: LIG won’t leave until she’s caught in something that’s so heinous that even she can’t muster the nerve to bluff her way thru it. Yes, there’s something more heinous than fish chunks. That new security system and POS system are going to be her downfall, which is why she fights it like a toddler fights booster shots. Just do what you did with your kids then: Hold her down, coo lovingly at her until the needle goes in, and step back and smirk while she rubs her sore fucking ass.

Next up is another new person—Muff Diver, it’s a cute screen name, but I can’t link to your blog if you don’t leave the fucking URL for a bitch, now can I?

My new boyfriend insists that I take a very cold shower and then lie very still on the bed when we have sex.
He is a student mortician.
Is this normal?

Answer: Muff Diver, you wouldn’t be asking YPF to read the coffee grounds for you if you thought this behavior was normal at all, now would you? HELLS NO it’s not normal—and it totally answers why your new boyfriend likes you to do this! Yep, you already know the answer here, but YPF will state the obvious, just for you.

He thinks you’re a dead arse in bed and he’s hoping you get the hint and liven up a tad. He doesn’t want to come right out and say it, so he’s hoping that acting like a necrophiliac will either scare you into breaking up with him, or that you’ll take matters into your own hands by stepping up your game and cooking up something horny to do in the sack. Go check out Cunting Linguist for pointers and ideas.

AnonymousCoworker is back for more fun, eh?

Why can’t I be in charge of everything?

Hm, now let YPF take a look thru Da Grounds…oh, really? He’s a total metro? Yes, the cat pictures did seal the deal, but Serra likes the kitty pics…

Answer: It’s because you’re not posting enough pictures of your cat. It’s grown quite a bit since the last set, hasn’t it? It’s adorable, isn’t it? It’s especially adorable right after it’s hawked an amazingly large hairball too, right? OK, the last isn’t at all true, but the rest certainly is—so make with the pics!

SMACK! Serra, you ignorant slut! I TOLD you—this is MY playtime, NOT your chance to troll for fun things!

Serra: But, YPFbitch, my birthday’s coming…

SO? You’re getting your hair done the way you want it so use your own fucking blog time to make requests! Don’t make me smack you again!

Serra: Fine. Slunt.

Now, where were we? Ah, yes…

Digitalcat has braved the asswaivers and posted a question:

I don’t like cake and ice cream. How can I get people to stop pushing it at me at weddings and parties without them thinking I’m a snob?

Hm, that’s a tough one…let’s consult the crystal ball on this one.

Styx kicks into high gear, launching the chorus to “that song” YPF ain’t havin’ it and kicks Tommy Shaw in the jimmy…Dude, it’s just too fucking early in the caffeine infusion to do this—shut up and let a bitch work, ok?

Answer: I saw a situation where no one will hang around and give you shit for not partaking of the obligatory party food. You’ve picked an ingredient (buttercream frosting, fondant, stoopid flowers, whatever—you made sure this particular cake had it in spades tho) and proceeded into a lengthy, graphic explanation of exactly why that ingredient makes your skin break out, gives you explosive diarrhea that has no cure, and makes the acid flashbacks come back. It works! The person trying to shove cake down your pie-only-hole is making the sign of the cross and backing off.

Seriously, just tell ‘em you’re on Atkins.

NEXT!

The Moose is loose—Moose writes a new-to-Serra blog, Moose in the Kitchen. Fun reading, so go check it out.

Is it possible for me to avoid doing something utterly stupid for an entire week? No? How about a day? That’s all I ask! One blunderless day!

Answer: Da Grounds and the Crystal Ball both show the solution—baby steps, Moose, baby steps. You should strive for five blunderless minutes, then ten, and keep working up from there…

That’s a fucking stoopid answer, YPF—it doesn’t work for you, does it? –Serra

Shut UP! It does too work for me!

Uh, what color is the sky on your planet? It doesn’t EVER work for your sorry ass! –Serra

Ignoring the buzzing sound that’s in YPF’s fully-occupied head and continuing…As I was saying before I was so RUDELY interrupted…baby steps…just keep trying…

Dog, what a stoopid bitch you are! –Serra

Turning around…Does YPF have to smack a bitch?? DOES SHE?

Serra shuts up and flips YPF the Double-Barreled Bird.

Anyhow—NEXT up is Indri from over at Waterbones:

How do I get those little bits of set-in dirt out of the tiny folds in my bellybutton?

Answer: 000 steel wool and Serra’s soap.

Ian hasn’t learned his lesson yet, because he’s back asking one of his favorite bitches questions again:

after my last hippo post I think I lost my reader´s respect… what should i do to get it back?

Ian, YPF is SOOOO jealous—she never had the readers’ respect around here! –Serra

YPF is gonna smack a bitch UP if she doesn’t SHUT IT!!

Answer: Anyhoo, Ian, YPF keeps telling you—your readers love you, some in that wiggle-in-the-snootch way (even the ones who have no snootches) so pander to that need to see somethin’ nekkid and flaunt that excellent bod! Video—still pictures—cartoons if need be, but let all those great guys blog-stalking you get what they’re hoping for—YOU—NEKKID! I know no one will scream and poke their eyes out so don’t even suggest it.

Paige came back again. Paige—great to see you! Serra still can’t find your RSS feed so she doesn’t get over there as often as she’d like, and she’s sorry (oh, DOG is she a sorry bitch) but will show up more often. Here’s Paige’s question:

No one seems to have me on the “check daily” list…should I stop posting everyday?

Answer: Da Grounds say it’s your blog, Paige, blog when you need to, want to, but never as though you HAVE to. You have lots of daily readers but some of them are a little shy about commenting. Your gentle nudging is working well—keep it up.

Special note to MooCow—YPF just executed a bunny in your honor. Oh, and…

*touch*

Onward—the next question is from…ooh, hey, hiya MooCow! We were just talking about you…

Why can’t ACW be in charge of everything?

Answer: Shh, don’t tell him, but it’s because his kittycat already has the job of running the world. It made YPF answer his question the way YPF did…hewp meeeee…..

Rod Renegade, hi and welcome to the madhouse! Here’s your question:

What ultimately happens to chewing gum after you’re done chewing it? and my boss is 68 – how much longer will he want to keep running his business. I mean, he’s hardly ever there now, he sits at home and writes stuff (not blogs) but I don’t think I want to be there after he’s gone… the rest of the office is… well… I’d rather not work with them. So I guess my question is… when should I start REALLY looking for another way to feed my 30 children, 2 goats, cow, 12 chickens and a pladypus?

Answers: YPF took a gander into Da Grounds, just for you buddy! And she saw amazing things! Question one’s answer is: it’s sold on playgrounds by crack dealers—when a kid finds out that ABC means Already Been Chewed, the dealer just says, “Oh, you didn’t like that kid? Here, I got something WAY better, dude…”

The answer for question two is that your boss is hoping one of his longtime employees will offer to buy him out over time, with payments greater than what he takes out of the business now. He wants to stay home and have enough time to learn how to blog so he has another outlet for his writing.

As for question three, you could look into buying the business from him, firing the shitheads you work with, getting new, fun, exciting help that will strip and dance on the tables at the company Xmas party, and have no trouble feeding the kids, goats, cow, chicken and platypus. What, no wife?

Mr. K is already showing signs of needing a break from the kiddies—good thing he’s getting one today. Have fun at the CTAM and don’t forget to get a handful of Caribou’s excellent chocolate covered espresso beans—I always hit them up for a couple when I go into the one down the road from me…

Cough!! Cough! Don’t they sell those prepaid coffay cards? –Serra

Sighs…Someday YPF will shut that bitch up! Here’s Mr. K’s question:

Why?

Answer: Because you’re due to. It’s your turn.

NEXT!

Grend31 stopped by, posing his question late in the game, but since we love the snark over at the Lair, we’ll put up with it JUST THIS ONCE. Got that, Grend31–just. this. once.

Moo has all these monkeys and won’t let me touch them.. why is this?

Answer: It’s complicated, as are all matters MooCow. It’s because once someone else has touched his monkeys, they just aren’t the same anymore. They won’t look right, smell right or taste right (don’t ask) after someone else has had congress with them. He prefers his monkeys touched only by him. There should never be anyone else touching his monkeys EVER–only the gorilla at the factory (you know the one–the one that advertises that their products are “untouched by human hands”). Once you’ve touched his monkey, he’ll have to replace it.

You understand now, don’t you? So just stick with touching him. You know how he likes that.

Beow0l|=’s back with a double-header:

will the death and destruction coming on saturday come to fruition… or will the stalwart heros prevail???

Answer: The Crystal Ball…sweeping my hand back to smack Tommy Shaw before he even starts…says that the stalward heros will prevail, but you’ll run low on Chambord, so stock an extra Faggot Hand Grenade before everyone gets there.

should i make chili or green curry chicken… you know the day i’m talking about–yer the psychic one..

Answer: Definitely the chili—look around and see if any stores in your area stock that great extra-coarse hamburger too. It’s fabu in chili—nice and meaty without being forced to fork out for stew meat that you’ll have to chunk smaller anyway. Don’t forget sour cream with fresh chives, and shredded extra-sharp cheddar cheese (I miss that black-waxed stuff I could get over at Mom’s) and oyster crackers. Go easy on the beans—you know how Grend31 gets when you feed him beans…and…

TWACK!

Serra just took over YPF’s hands and made her type all that foodie-home-ec-y shit! Just ignore her and she’ll go away. Seriously Beo, do pizza from Bomino’s and beer and you’ll be fine. Better yet, make homemade pizza!!

Serra, shut the fuck up before I knock you into next week! YPF is gonna slap that bitch soon as she’s done here, people…mmrff mrrff ldnwrnssssss…

It’s Serra, folks—I canned the bitch again, this time in the coffee can I dump my ashtrays into. Maybe now she’ll learn that there’s always something worse than the Pringles can, and that I RUN THIS SHOW! She only gets to come out at MY sufferance and I’m sick of the abuse I get from trying to help her sorry ass out.

Anyhow, I’d love to hear what you think of the Ask Your Psychic Fiend Friday feature, so if you slogged thru all this bullshit, tell me what you thought in the comments. Thanks.

It’s that time again, folks–time for another round of Ask Your Psychic Fiend! For those new to the phenomenon, Ask Your Psychic Fiend is a Friday feature where the insane little pseudo-psychic inside of me takes your questions, plays with something to find the answers, then posts them for your shits and grins. Anyone may ask, the only charge is an occasional comment or vote on Top Blogs (that UPS-colored thingy under my pussy in the sidebar).

Here’s the fine print:

Note that the “Ask Your Psychic Fiend” feature is for entertainment purposes only. Use “Ask Your Psychic Fiend” for skin use only in diluted form, as it can cause irritation and sensitivities if used uncut. Do not ask questions which might expose any confidential issues, identities, relationships or other sensitive topics. If there’s a remote possibility you’ll read YPF’s response and think, “That’s not funny motherfucker!” then don’t ask that fucking question. Do not taunt Your Psychic Fiend. Psychic Fiend is a trademark-pending product of Knightdreams, Inc. All rights and copyrights are reserved to D. J. Lovely. All answers are meant in good fun–in other words, if you can’t take a joke then don’t Ask Your Psychic Fiend anything because you won’t like the answers.

Oh, and fuck you if you can’t take a joke.

Answers will be posted Friday and this post will be stuck to the top of the blog until 6 am Friday. New posts WILL appear under it, so make sure you peek under this post for them.