Ask Your Psychic Fiend Friday: The Armed and Filthy Version

July 15, 2005 at 8:56 am (Your Psychic Fiend)

Well, Your Psychic Fiend feels like a pack of dwarves, armed and filthy, ran over her ass during the night, so let’s get to the fun!

First, the ass-waiver:

As you begin your journey with 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.
2. All answers are for entertainment only.
3. The ONLY offense intended is to those sorry cock-juggling thundercunts 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 charlatans like Miss Cleo and her ilk should be strangled with a telephone cord.

MooCow has the first question.

What will happen if/when the Top Blog rank reaches #1?

For the answer, Your Psychic Fiend is going to the old standby. Nope, not the crystal ball—YPF is saving that for a truly difficult question. Today’s coffee was hellaciously bad, not nearly strong enough and pretty damned tasteless. YPF swears to Dog she’s buying a French press and going nuts from there. So, ~TWACK~ there goes the coffee grounds! Let’s let ‘em dribble a little while YPF runs a cupful off the Home Café machine. You know, that little puppy’s been a Dogsend in this land of non-chewy caffeinated beverages. It’ll be even better when YPF can find the espresso machine and really get the hardcore stuff….ahhh, yes! It’s all becoming clear now…

Answer: YPF hates to tell you this, but it’s not pretty, dearest MooCow. She sees Serra jumping up and down, giving herself two black eyes in the process (because she fergot to put her sports bra on before commencing to jump). Aw, hell, Moo—now she’s doing a Happy Blogger’s Dance (like the Happy Soapmaker’s dance only done around the computer instead of around a moldful of pretty, yummy soap). Now she’s getting on a plane—heading for the Twin Cities. Ah, geez, Moo, YPF really hates to tell you this, but she’s coming to touch you, because you write one of the most awesome blogs out here. She’ll only do it once, and then she will go back to Beo’s house. But she will come and touch you if that little number hits 1.

Just kidding about the touching, MooCow. YPF just wanted to see your face when you saw that line. Thanks for writing.

Nancie has another scrying question:

Will I get the 2nd interview or find a job asap???

Nancie, YPF’s looking at the writing of the coffee grounds on the wall for this one—they’ve oozed down the wallpaper nicely and they’re prime for figuring things out. YPF could wish the best part of those grounds had gone into the pot instead of onto the wall, but this’ll do for our purposes today.

What? You’re kidding, Coffee Ground Oracle! Really?

Answer: While you might still be in contention for that job, you should keep looking anyhow. There’s a good chance you’ll find something that pays better, and when you have two offers to look at, life’s MUCH less depressing.

Scritch the Serra goatie for me, ok? Thanks for stopping by.

I seriously ~heart~ getting questions from Grend31.

Dear Psychic Fiend, Esq.,

If I understand your situation correctly you are a bound or summoned fiend magically controlled by Serra, Most likely by the way of magical potions or elixers as I sense this is where her arcane aptitude appears to be most potent.

Now, on with my point. There are a series of questions, some of them quite embarrassing to yours truly, that I would never ever, as a gentleman, ask a lady to answer.

So my question this week is, as a fiend, do you have a particular.. *ahuuurm* sex?

Yours inquiringly of your privatish areas,
Sir Brigadiere General Grend31, Mrs.

Answer: Your Psychic Fiend’s gift is limited in that she can see everyone else in the world, but cannot see herself. She simply came to be one day, and no amount of scrying will tell her how it happened. YPF’s guessing Serra got gassed with a bad fragrance oil and hallucinated her, then lightning struck and she took human form in order to carry out her mission of being strange at anyone who will listen to YFP.

Since then, it’s been an internal struggle—Serra’s inner child Chuckie versus the pure, true psychic talent of Your Psychic Fiend. It’s Hell living inside this head—there’s this soapmaker who keeps trying to shove YPF out and cloud the Gift with thoughts of Opium incense.

Since YPF takes the form of her Creator, Serra, she’s female, but let’s leave the Psychic One’s snootch out of this. You’ll make poor Beowo1|= go blind again.

YPF’s best to Jesster and thanks for coming.

Se7en has a great one for YPF this week! Serra has her own opinion, but Serra can kiss YPF’s cute, pink, perky happy ass!

I need new underwear and I can’t decide… red or blue? boxers, briefs?

Please, can you help me Psychic Fiend?

Answer: Yes, Se7en, YPF can surely help you on your quest to obtain grundiewear. She shouldn’t, however. It’s an absolute sin to put covering on what is surely one of the nicest butts in the Universe. YPF can see the necessity though—it’s truly a bitch to get skin and fur caught in the jeans zipper. So, with that in mind, YPF thinks you ought to try out the boxer briefs—they’re made of the comfy tightie-whitie material while giving the support and hot-looking effect of boxers. Definitely get into the arena of colors—red, black, blue, teal…but stay away from pink and mauve. Pink and mauve just don’t work for most men.

While YPF’s got your attention, Serra says thanks for turning on your Atom feed–she just luuuuuvs your blog and missed it when she couldn’t find the feed to add to Sage. (Shit, that bitch whines a lot! Sorry about that Se7en) Thanks for swinging by Whiplash Smile.

Mo (the e-less one, not the other one) asks:

Should I stay or should I go?

Since Serra’s catnip is blooming and will be ready to infuse soon as it drops its seeds, YPF’s going to snag a handful of fresh kittycrack and toss it around outside for the answer to this one.

Be right back.

Answer: If you go there will be trouble.

If you stay it will be double.

Proceeding to slamdance and headbang the fuck out, singing at the top of YPF’s lungs:


Ok, YPF’s got that out of the system (thanks to Mona for tipping Serra off about the series on Punk—Serra caught it last night and it was great to watch, with the volume turned WAY up to 11).

Uh, where was I?

Oh yes–thanks for coming!

Mike the Midwest_Hick over at Random Ramblings sounds like it sucks to be him:

Dear (dearest?) Psychic Fiend,
Will we ever hire someone so that I may actually get a day off this summer? And if not, Am I too old and frail to work this much?…(I know…..that’s 2 questions….but take a lil pity on me)

YPF’s always willing to cut a Packer fan a little slack—you are a Packer fan, aren’t ya Mike old buddy? YPF’s going to have to whip out the crystal ball on this one…humming as YPF whips off the silken covering…Crystal ball…so many things I need to know (crystal ballllll) so many things I gotta know…

Answer: Seems you’ve screwed yourself on this one, Mike. Turns out your boss is the one swiping your Pepsi, and if you don’t work a lot you not only don’t keep him stocked up, you wouldn’t have the bucks to support his sugar-n-caffeine habit along with your own. Switch to Coke and you’ll get a day off while he tries to convert one of your co-workers to the Pepsi Generation. As for how old and frail you might be, you look juuuuust fine from here!

Shit—stop that Serra! You HAVE a man, remember? A nice, good-looking man who claims to worship the ground you walk on, in spite of the fact that you’re such a horrid lifemate that you made him bring your supper upstairs to where the satellite TV was just hooked up in your bedroom last night!

What a bitch—sorry, folks, the lack of decent-tasting caffeine is letting the silly wench break YPF’s concentration…

And that wraps up the Armed and Filthy Version of Ask Your Psychic Fiend. Since HaloScan’s acting like a Ford (recalling everything because it’s just not fucking working), feel free to email the luv until HaloScan’s back in operation.


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