Ask Your Psychic Fiend: The Kyle’s Mom is a Bitch Version

October 21, 2005 at 11:07 am (Your Psychic Fiend)

‘Ello! It’s once again time for YPF to romp and play, folks! It’s a short list this week, but that’s OK, because I can sit and bitch about that stupid wench Serra!

Yeah, she’s been a real pain in the ass this week—coughing, sneezing, putting her back out and being generally useless. She hasn’t taken us anywhere at all—just curls her fat ass up into a fetal ball and whimpers until it’s time for another dose of cold medicine…

Now you hold on right there, you rotten slunt! If you’d do more for the body than drink coffee and get cravings for things that aren’t in the house, the body would be a lot better off! I WAS going to take you for Taco Bell today, but now you can kiss my delicately-scented ass, bitch! No Double Beef Burrito Supreme for YOU! –Serra

Fine, biatch! I didn’t want any anyhow! I want espresso ice cream, the kind they make where they infuse the cream with whole espresso beans, like that yummy shit we had at Beo's that one time.

Whimper…whimper…Taco Bell. Denied.

Anyway, just to shut HER up, let’s make with the 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 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 have been smashed against a rock at birth.

Now—First up is our old friend Paige:

Will I ever be accepted at work?

Answer: Da Grounds, which I’ve kindly left in the brewing cup because Serra’s the one who made coffee this morning and I can’t be bothered enough to throw them at the wall, say that it’s going to depend on what you’re willing to do for acceptance. You’ve got a lot more brains than most of the folk you work with, so it’s going to be a little harder than usual for you to get them comfortable with you. Look for some after-work bonding opportunities, like finding a place like this one, where drink and play can meet.

Hope this helps!

The next question is from another old friend, Seamus:

Will I ever accept work?????

Answer: The concept of work is mind over matter: If you have no mind, it does not matter. To that end, burning out your brain cells in whichever manner you find acceptable might make the pain less as the years wear on. Untimately, however, you’ll find you really miss your mind. The trick is to find work where you feel guilty for getting paid to do something you love so much. Most of us never find that; those who do are lucky beyond measure.

Next up is Anonymous Coworker:

At some point will I be allowed to stop talking about necrophilia?

Answer: Sheesh! Make ONE little argument in favor of forcibly raping corpses and you’re marked for life! Da Grounds do say that someday it’ll fade from the memories of those you know, and using mass hypnosis would go a long way to making that happen sooner. Add a mild hypnotic to pitchers of beer and whatever else is being drunk at the next happy hour and work your magic.

Our next question comes in from Se7en. Missed ya, dude, and it’s good to see you back!

Will I ever find true love again? I need ta know! Hehe

Answer: Who wouldn’t love lovable old you, Se7en! Da Grounds show a lot of women really really want to scritch your ears, brush your fur, and snuggle up close. The catch is that most of them are just too far away to really get close to. It’s time to start looking for fun things to do offline again. Difficult as that is in your area, it’d really do you some good to get out and socialize. Hugs from Serra and good luck.

Mike dropped by once again—here’s his question:

Why is it I can't think of an adequate question to ask you today?

Answer: Because you live a life of calm perfection, Oh Midwest Hick! You live in the perfect city, in the perfect state, with the perfect housemate, have the perfect job…

Serra! GET OUT OF HERE BEFORE I KNOCK YOU INTO NEXT WEEK! I swear to Dog it’s time mmlfjr mslkfjon mmlirsjoahllllll

It’s Serra, folks—Since I’m a little low on patience this week she hit the shitcan early on. Taking away the little bitch’s Taco Bell just didn’t teach her, did it? She’s residing in the ash can and I’ll take Mike’s question.

Cut to shot of coffee can, rocking, banging noises and muffled threats issuing from within

Now, Mike—It’s not just you. Comment Me Now was a little slow this week, likely because I put it up a little late. I’m sure it’ll roar back in force along with your curiosity next week.

That’s it for this edition, my assembled maniacs. Comments and bitching can be left in the comment section.


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