Ask YPF: The Big Kids Version

January 13, 2006 at 10:35 am (Your Psychic Fiend)

Hi everyone! It’s once again time for Ask Your Psychic Fiend, the Friday feature that answers the questions you all ask about what the future holds for you.

I have to tell you, it’s been a shitty week. Having my ass stuffed into a coffee can full of cigarette butts was bad enough, but then the Serrabrat shoved the can into a Priority Mail box and sent me somewhere. I don’t know where it was, because wherever she sent me didn’t want my ass either (and me dressed in nothing but a red sequined thong) and sent me back. Then when I finally get OUT of the CanO’Butts, Serra makes me watch Blue Collar TV with her! THAT ought to be my punishment when I get out of line! Sheesh, you see this guy once and you’re screaming not to ever have to see him again:

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I can tell you one thing, though. It’s true—the idiots they pay to handle the Almighty U. S. Mail DO play volleyball with your packages! I heard ‘em while they were batting me around—“Side out” “12-4” and all that shit. I spent two days somewhere (don’t know where because no one tells me anything) because the package made such a good volleyball. Nice—they jacked postage rates so their employees could play volleyfuckinball.

Anyway, let’s get on with it before Serra blows another gasket. Here’s the asswaiver:

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

1. It’s Psychic FIEND, not Psychic FRIEND. With friends like YPF, who needs enemas?
2. All answers are for entertainment only. If you don’t want to be entertained by Your Psychic Fiend’s wiseassed interpretations of coffee grounds thrown at the wall, 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 demonic disciples of Pat Robertson 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, stupid-whore assbags like Miss Cleo and her ilk should have been smashed against a rock at birth.

Now that we’ve taken care of the basics, let’s get to the fun part. LisaB’s our first seeker today:

PF is getting very addictive!

Will I get some major good news in the next week?

Answer: Da Grounds (today they’re Michigan Cherry coffee grounds from the new press pot) say that good news is coming your way, but since the Universe seldom works on the schedule we want it to, there’s a good chance it won’t be precisely THIS week. In the timelessness of The All, our days are but eyeblinks, and our years but…

Oh, shit YPF, get to the point already! It’s not like you’re REALLY psychic, you know! I just let you do this because it gets too fucking crowded in my head if I don’t let you out to play this once a week. –Serra

Sighs…Whatever, bitch. I’m getting there. Don’t get yer granny panties in a wad.

Fine. Just get done—I want to taste the good coffee with the chocolate in it. I don’t make it for YOUR enjoyment.

Yes, you do. Everything you do is because I’m surreptitiously governing every move you make.

Bullshit. Does that mean you secretly want to be the main attraction at a lesbian gang bang? Because next time I’ll make SURE you get past the guards at Alderson.

Yawn. You couldn’t get a tissue past a guard at Alderson. Still don’t know why you thought packing me with contraband would be a good way to ship me there. Even smoked-up cigarette butts are still cigarettes, dumbass!

Whatever, stoopid—just get to work!

Fine.

Now, where was I? Oh, yeah.

LisaB, your life has many good things coming, but predicting when they’re coming isn’t an exact science. You’ll get them when you need them the most, as always.

Onward, we take a question next from Cass:

Will my landlady ever call me and tell me I can move in already? This waiting BS is killing me! Or is it going to turn out that it’s gonna fall through and I’ll have to seek shelter elsewhere….

Answers: Your landlady either lost your number or…see that line in Da Grounds? That’s your wanting to take that cuddlepuppy to your new home.

Wait, that’s actually left from last week’s grounds slinging. Sorry. Wipewipewipe

Call the landlady back or track her down and get a handle on what’s going on. Make her get this sewn up for you so you can either get moved or look for another place, because there’s a reason she’s not getting off the pot on her own. Serra had a show promoter to deal with like this once—she had to call SIX times to get a confirmed spot, and when she finally got to the show there was so much bitching from folks who didn’t like the show that she was the only one that truly did well there. Yet she’d had to practically lead the promoter by the short hairs to get in? I think both the promoter and your landlady suck.

Next!

Our next victim is Clora Clairvoyant. Oh, Clora—SOOO sorry for being such a bitch last week. I know you don’t mainline meth.

Yet.

Will I ever truly win friends AND influence people?

Answer: Da Grounds say that you’re well on your way when it comes to your inner circle. However, those who don’t know you well think you’re just another crack whore. Don’t worry though—they’ll find out differently about you once they rent your body and see the inner intelligence and beauty…

YPF, I am going to FUCK YOU GENTLY WITH A CHAINSAW if you don’t start being nicer to Clora!! She’s one of our favorite readers, fer Chrissake, and you treat her like some common troll! SHAME, YPF, SHAME ON YOU! –Serra

Fine, fine, do whatever ya want, you boner-biting bitch! Just don’t make me watch Larry the Cable Guy in a baby car seat ever again.

Clora’s REAL Answer: You win friends and influence people every day, Clora, you’re just not aware of it. Each person who talks to you or reads your blog is touched.

Yep, they’re truly touched…in the “riding the short bus” sort of way…

YPF! Behave or back in the thong for YOUR short bus ride to Alderson you go! –Serra

YAWN…You’re going to have to do better than that, Serra. Been there, done that, and they don’t want my ass.

Next up is Melina from the blog entitled “She Speaks 18 Languages and Can’t Say No in Any of Them.” Ain’t THAT the fuckin’ truth…

You have two choices, YPF. You can finish this post before I beat you bloody, or after. Take your pick. Melina’s good people and you’re the last person who should run their mouths about others. –Serra

Fine.

Bitch.

Here’s Melina’s question:

Will it be true love for John and I? Will I be having like 10,000 of his babies?

Answer: It’s too soon to tell—you and he have a major cusp event on the horizon, and the more pertinent question is “When is he going to quit dicking around and ask you out?” Because he IS going to ask you out—he just wants to make sure he’s separated himself from the throngs of men who follow your gorgeous ass around The Cornfield before he commits to a date. I know he’s going to ask you out. YOU know he’s going to. Hell, all Dog’s Children know he’ll ask you out. You know as well as I do though that men aren’t too damned bright—he’s not sure he’s standing out in your mind yet, even with all the communication going on, so he thinks he has to wait for the perfect moment.

Good luck and don’t go with his first choice for a boy’s name ~shudder~.

Next up we have MoeThatsMe.

Just one word….

Why!?

.

You be nice to Moe—we like her a lot too, remember? –Serra

I’m always nice to Moe. She gives me more attention than you do.

I’d give you more attention if I could stand to be around you, YPF. Have I told you lately that I think you’re a psychotic bitch?

Nope. Thanks for the love. Now go away—I’m trying to work here.

Answer, Short Version:

42.

Answer, Long Version: There isn’t one. Seriously. Before Serra starts whining that I’m being “too esoteric” I have to say that’s what Da Grounds are spelling out on the wall—42. I don’t know if that’s your age now, will be your age when you remarry, the number of times you’ll have sex this month, or what it is. But obviously it means something or it wouldn’t be there, would it? So play it as a lottery number or something, go rent a hotel room #42, or whatever it takes to find out how it relates to your destiny because if I see it in a splotch on the wall, it means every bit as much as seeing Mother Teresa’s face in a patch of mold on someone’s bathroom wall does. It’s A Sign.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Our last question is from Seamus, who hands-down has the best HNT pics on the planet.

Good Morning my caffeinated friend! Is there REALLY a tall blond with a big smile in my future???

Answer: Yep, there is indeed a really tall blond with a big smile in your future. But there’ll be Hell to pay when Hot Sauce finds out about her. On the positive side, you’ll get to see that knock-down drag-out cat fight you’ve been fantasizing about, complete with clothes coming off and amazing breasteses flopping around. Just don’t wince too much at the blood…

THWACK!

Whaaaaaaaat?

You know what, you stoopid bitch! “Blond” means MALE, not female! Give him the straight skinny before I slap your ass directly into a Priority Mail box and ship you to Alderson like you deserve!

Go suck the southbound end of a northbound horse, bitch. This is MY feature, NOT yours, and I’m sick of you running your face all thru it!

But it’s MY fucking blog, cooze-face, and I’ll edit your bullshit as necessary.

Nope, I’m not giving him the answer in Da Grounds, because he already knows that tall blond in the future is himself and of course he’s there—you KNOW the boy rolls up a fatty and smokes it before he posts a question.

He does NOT and it’s none of our fucking business if he DOES. The shit should be legal anyhow.

May you mark time in a pile of horseshit in the marching band of life.

That fucking DOES it! You’re DONE!

Serra here folks—that’s it for Ask the Psychotic this week. I just threw her into a box and it’s time to email Martha to find out if they want her snootch to taste like tangerines, peppermint, or if I should just douche her with tea tree essential oil so they don’t catch anything when she gets there.

Thanks again and have a good weekend!

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