Ask Your Psychic Fiend #29

March 15, 2006 at 9:46 am (Your Psychic Fiend)

Howdy howdy hi and welcome to Ask Your Psychic Fiend! Yes, folks, Serra finally untied my unhappy butt and is letting me blog again.

Where have I been? Um, let’s not discuss that. The psychiatrist says it’s not good to rehash it unless he’s got me deeply sedated due to the horrible trauma.

So, with that, remember that the usual rules apply:

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 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 penisbiters like Miss Cleo and her ilk should have been smashed against a rock at birth.

And now let’s proceed with Question #1, from Two Drink Girl (anyone ever told you you’re a cheap drunk, TDG?)

My Question is: Is this it? Will this finally be my time?

Answer: Yes and no. Without spoiling the surprise, just do be careful of gifts bearing Greeks, Greeks bearing gifts, and any man who calls your period time “Greek Week.”

NEXT!

Hiya Mr. Fabulous! Thanks for the following question:

Dear YPF,

I don’t always have to wear underwear to church, do I? Does Jesus really care if I go commando in his house?

Answer: While masturbation makes Jeebus cry and kill a kitten, He really doesn’t give a shit if you go commando in His house. Just be certain that your religion doesn’t show by wearing loose trousers, skip the CBT restraint and, if you simply MUST scratch your balls, try to make sure no one’s looking.

Cassarass has joined the party too! Hiya! How’d the move go?

Dearest YPF,

Will I EVER get a day off to organize my damn house? And will I ever get it organized?

Answer: If you do get a fortuitous extra day off, it’ll be because something excremental happened that you will have to deal with instead. Instead, you’re going to have to rely on thinking up a good excuse to call in sick for a day and use it to get things straightened around. When you do, don’t give in to the temptation to go play instead, because it will never fail that the day you do this will be gorgeous outside and you’ll want to go enjoy that instead.

Our next question comes from Mona! Gee, Mona, I’ve missed you SO much!

(little tiny whisper) help meeee…it’s horrible heeere!

Dear Psychic Fiend,

I drink a lot of water everyday. Like 120 ounces of it. (No, I’m not diabetic, I just play one on tv.)

Now, I pee a lot, too.

My question is, how much water does my body burn off, that doesn’t go out in pee?

Also, can I drown my brain if I drink too much water?

Swimmingly,

Mona

Answer: Depending on activity level and season, the amount of water you lose to sweating and drooling can vary, but it’s not a great deal except in hot weather and during heavy exercise. The amount you’re drinking is pretty healthy, but I don’t know that I’d push it due to the next answer I’m giving you.

It is possible to drink too much water—it happens quite a bit to folks on Ecstasy and who have other conditions that make them feel thirstier than their body’s need for water accounts for. If you aren’t careful about how much you take in, you can throw off your body’s electrolyte balance, resulting in problems with the heart and brain function. I don’t think you’re at this point or near it, but I wouldn’t say to up your intake of water either.

So—be healthy but don’t be silly about it

Our next question is from LisaB:

Will I be traveling a lot in the coming months?

Answer: Yep, you will! Some for business, and occasionally for fun. On all trips, don’t forget the necessities: American Express card, fun money, duct tape, and a really hot leather outfit.

What? What’s wrong with making sure you take credit cards?

Sheesh, some people!

NEXT!

Hiya Brigadiere! Great to have you back.

Dear Ms. Fiend, Esq.,

I believe my dear man-child servant Smiggins is trying to off me again. Poor bloke hasn’t quite figured out that I’m nigh-indestructable. He’s becoming quite exasperated with my tenacity towards lifedom. Betwixt the strychnine tea and assorted booby-traps he’s placed about the grounds he’s become quite the pooper of the party. Is there anything you might do to bring about some cheer for poor Smiggins?

Yours in bedogged immortality,
Sir Brigadiere General Grend31, Mrs.

Answer: This one’s directed to Smiggins: Just skip this part, Brigadiere.

Dude, the Brigadiere’s found the RFID chip you stuck up his ass! You’re sooo busted and he’s shoved it up yours instead! Poop that puppy out and next time put it in his asscheek so you can make sure it’s still there every time you have to kiss his ass.

OK, Brigadiere, you can look again.

Smiggins really isn’t trying to kill you—he really didn’t know Bitter Almond is poisonous. You know him, Brigadiere—all almonds are edible as far as he’s concerned.

Just ignore that bitter taste in your Madeira, all righty?

Our next question comes to us from MoeThatsMe.

If I had bonus monies – no word yet, but it don’t look too good – what would I spend it on??

Answer: Even though you want to spend it to restart that meth lab since the po-po busted up your last rig, don’t! The cats are ratting you out, and they’ll just tattle again soon as you blame that awful smell on their litterbox again.

Next up we have Mike:

Will my wife ever let me get another cat?

Answer: Well, if you hadn’t sodo—

YPF! You know what happens when you talk like that here.

Heavy sighs…Yeah, I do, but look at Da Grounds, Serra—you KNOW why he can’t get another cat, it’s not like I’m lying or some shit here…

Too bad—people think everything they read on the Interwebbnetz is real and we’ll get all those gross-assed search engine hits again if you type that crap out.

Fine. I won’t type it out then.

Mike, you know why you can’t have another cat, and I know why. Just because I can’t type it out doesn’t make it go away. Why not get a nice gerbil for felch…

STOP IT!!

Geez, Serra, you’re no fucking fun anymore.

You’re not the one who has to check the hit meter either, YPF.

OK. Mike, I think it’s time to turn to pets you’re not perverted about. Geckos, perhaps. They have that nifty Aussie accent, you know.

Fucking no-fun Nazi bitch Serra…

Anyhow, next up is Christine:

Who is behind this particular ISP that keeps appearing on my site reports?

Answer: Last time that happened here, it was our own ISP—turns out we’d forgotten to block our own ISP when it changed IPs for us, and for a week we were stalking ourselves and Spider Walk too! Check to be sure your own IP isn’t showing on your hits, then hit Geektools to find out what you can. Once you’ve done that you might be able to figure out who your guest is.

Our next question is from Jesster:

Is the new Doctor Who on the Sci-Fi Channel going to be any good, or am I just setting myself up for disappointment? And on a related note, please tell me that I am not the world’s geekiest chick…not that there’s anything WRONG with that…

Answer: It’s really too soon to tell. However, Tom Baker’s the best Doctor and no one else can hold a candle to him. However, Da Grounds show there’s still a place for a passable Doctor and here’s hoping we finally get another one.

As for being the geekiest chick, Serra’s got you beat—she’s an Admin at an MUD! It doesn’t get any geekier than that, Jesster. Now send us a Caribou card—the new ones are purrrrty!!

Next up is a new seeker—Cat, from Cat With a Pen, a great site. Welcome to the nut farm, Cat. No offense, but I’m sure you’ll fit in nicely. You’re smart, funny, and so are you and you…

Shut it YPF—that’s rude!

Of COURSE it’s rude, Serra—you expect NICE after you made me watch Garand for a month without even being able to SCREAM? By the way, I’m going to get you for that, so don’t bitch when a refrigerator box full of acrylic yarn shows up.

But, you stupid cow, I don’t use acrylics to knit with!

Exactly. Now piss off—I’m working here.

Here’s Cat’s question:

Will I live in Colorado for the rest of my life like I hope?

Answer: Da Grounds (our form of augury here, mostly because the coffee sucks so bad if Serra doesn’t make it herself that she throws the grounds at the wall in protest) say that in a moderately-distant future will appear a cusp event, one which will force a decision on your location. There are a lot of factors that will alter the total balance between now and then, so don’t get wired out about this (especially since this prediction is based on utter bullshit) just yet. It’s entirely likely that by the time you reach the cusp, one choice will be so out of the question that the decision is very clear.

Just allow things to naturally progress for the time being.

Our next question is from Se7en, who’s apparently home again. Hope you had a great vacation and that the next one happens soon.

No, I’m not telling you when—that’s in the “I’d spoil the surprise if I told and Baby Jeebus would cry” category. Besides, you didn’t ask me, so nyah, and here’s your question:

Hi!! My question is: “Will I get run over by a bus or will it be a train?”

I just gotta know!!!

p.s. Thankyew for the nice comment at my http://www.charmskins.com site!

Answer: You’re more than welcome for the comment—unfortunately I’d hit it while credit surfing so I didn’t get the URL—if you want to put it in the comments, go ahead.

As for your question, The Answer is…

Neither one.

I’m not telling you what will hit you (another “surprise”) but I’m willing to tell you if you guess right—but you can only guess in questions for me, not in other post comments on the blog. Serra reads everything y’all post, but I only get out once in awhile so I tend to fergit unless it’s in that one set of comments she lets me read myself.

And so, once again we come to the end of another Ask Your Psychic Fiend. Thanks for all the fun and we’ll do it again soon!

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STICKY POST: Comment Me Now

March 10, 2006 at 6:00 am (Your Psychic Fiend)

This post is stuck to the top of the blog until Thursday March 9. Scroll down for newest posts.

Well, I did what you all suggested. I untied one leg on that little hobag Your Psychic Fiend. Then I took the tape off her mouth and heard, “For the love of all that’s holy, I’ll be a good figment of your imagination! Just LET ME THE FUCKING HELL OUT OF HERE!”

Everything sounded sufficiently penitent, except for that f-bomb.

So, I taped her back up and told her I’ll turn her loose next Friday for a little blogging. Meanwhile, back here at the ranch, she’ll need questions to answer, so please put them in the comments for this post. Remember the guidelines: If you’ll be offended by a flippant, snotty, bitchy or otherwise inappropriate answer to your question; if you don’t want anyone to know about the subject you’re asking about; if there’s any other reason you might not like the reaction to your question, then you are best off not asking it here. Your Psychic Fiend cannot be counted on to be nice, polite, caring, considerate or concerned. Ever.

And, as always, there’s one governing rule: Fuck you if you can’t take a joke.

I’ll put this up sticky style until next Friday the 10th. New posts will appear underneath, so get off your lazy mouses and scroll.

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Please Welcome

March 2, 2006 at 10:14 am (Housekeeping, Other Bloggers, Uncategorized, Your Psychic Fiend)

In lieu of doing a full Housekeeping post, I'm posting a request for a welcome for Miss Ann Thrope, this week's BE renter. She's a scream, plain and simple. She and her husband (Mister Cranky Fucking Pants, thank you very much) do much to light their piece of the Interwebnets, and I think you'll enjoy her as much as I do.

She's easy to find–simply click on her thumbnail over there under my pussy or hit this link.

In a completely different vein, do you think it's time to untie Your Psychic Fiend and let her blog a little?

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Forks in the Road

February 6, 2006 at 1:28 pm (Daily Dookie, Housekeeping, Other Bloggers, Uncategorized, Your Psychic Fiend)

It’s the weekend, and I have a couple of things on my mind.

First–Scott over at Scooter’s 9th Green is still my renter, and well worth the click on his thumbnail over on the sidebar. I picked him because his tastes in music and media are much different than mine, and I’m not under the illusion that you all 100% agree with a woman who has bought only one album recorded after 1990. He’s good reading so go check him out.

The other matter on my mind today is Ask Your Psychic Fiend. Mostly, I’m wondering if you’re all getting bored with this one. I’m finding myself running out of ideas, honestly, but I seem to find new ones when I need them, so it’s only a secondary issue as far as I’m concerned. I’ll dig out what I need to if I keep writing Ask YPF; the real question is “Do you really want me to?”

I refuse to start a survey–it just reminds me too much of skank-assed soapers who have to keep checking their personal popularity by setting up polls like, “Should I ever wash my stank ass? Yes/No/Why–you smell perfectly like roses no matter how many years it’s been since you’ve actually used soap” Please, just put your opinions in the comments for this post. I’m going to stick it to the top of the blog for 24 hours, so everyone gets a chance to see it.

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Ask YPF: The “Is This the End?” Version

February 4, 2006 at 1:27 pm (Your Psychic Fiend)

Howdy Howdy all, and welcome to this week’s edition of Ask Your Psychic Fiend. I think Serra’s asleep (she woke up far too early when Honey’s alarm clock went off) so let’s get the asswaiver out of the way and get to the fun.

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.

Our first question is from Mona Buonanotte (does Buonanotte mean “Good ‘n’ Naughty in French?):

Dear YPF,

I’m so sick of politics, I could shit boulders. Can you gaze into your crystal ball and see when this ickiness will end??

Love, Mona

Answer: Good question, Mona. Once the Presidential erection is over, the election will be held, then will be another election (btw when’s Grandholm due to shill for votes again?), then it’ll be yet another wind-filled sleazebag, then another…you get the point. This is America—by the time we’re sick of one set of nutjobs it’s time for another batch of knob-polishers.

The only thing that will end the cycle of vote whoring will be a religious dictatorship, something we’re dangerously close to as things stand now.

Next up is Mike, who seems to have forgotten whose blog he’s tried to give orders on.

What’s the growth rate of an eyebrow?

Don’t ask….I get to ask….but not you….lol

Answer: Fortunately for you, YPF already knows why you’re asking this question, and those of you who don’t know can just go read his post and find out.

Additionally fortunate for you is that YPF actually found a serious answer to this one, over here at Paula’s Choice. Gee, I love Google. To quote:

Hairs on different parts of the body have variable rates of growth. It takes about 64 days for eyebrow hair to grow in after it is plucked. However, the length of time can be longer if the hair or hairs you want to grow back are in their resting phase. At any given time, 90% of the hair on your body is in a resting phase where it has stops growing, falls out, and then starts growing again. If that’s the case (and there is no way to know which hairs are in the resting phase and which aren’t), then the length of time can be far greater, so you need to be patient. There is an exception to this: if you have been tweezing the same area for a long time it may be too late. Eyebrow hair is very sensitive to injury. Repeated plucking can permanently damage the hair root, which will prevent the hair from ever growing back.

If you want to know how long it takes pubic hair to grow back, you’re on your own. Fucked if I’m going to be caught dead searching that one! Who knows when Google’s going to cave to the pressure of surrendering their search results in the interest of letting the Government snoop on what’s none of their business.

Next up, we have another question from Vince:

YPF,

I need you to predict the sucess of my new CD (available via link on my blog and website). Also, will you promote it for me? I’m sure sales would increase dramatically if you endorsed it.

Answer: The success of your CD is something that YPF isn’t allowed to reveal—Jeebus would cry if I ruined the surprise for you, dude, He really would. Since He’s gone thru all the trouble to work out how this is going to go down, He’d not be pleased if I just skipped over the next few months and went for the reveal now.

As for plugging it, I haven’t got speakers on the computer yet, so once I get them on (or kick Honey in the ass hard enough to convince him that he can get off his butt and do it like he promised two years ago) I’ll go check it out and put in a good word. Meanwhile, here’s the best I can do:

Yo—everyone! Vince has a great new CD out, Voice of the Spirit, available on his website! Inspirational music and a good cause combine with talented, dedicated guitarist Vince Franco’s guiding light to bring you an album full of excellent music. Proceeds go to charity and I can’t wait to be able to listen to this myself! Get your butts over and check it out!

Vince, Serra promises she’ll do a full post as soon as she’s able to get her music fixes once again.

Our next victim is LisaB:

Hello YPF! This is what I am wondering…

Is my big client from last winter going to call me again soon?

Answer: Yeah, but make sure and ask double for that client’s session—you remember how awful his request for you to pour honey in his hair and lick it off was, don’t you? And make him fucking SHOWER before he makes you give him oral this time too! Personally, I’d tell someone this disgusting to make a date with another call girl before I’d take his…

YPF! You horrible little BITCH! How DARE you pick on LisaB! You know Se7en’s gonna kick MY ass while you’re not in possession of the body for this! Do you need another time-out in Garand’s room? DO YOU?

Aw, blow it out yer ass, you lazy dipshit! You know he said I wasn’t any fun cuz I wouldn’t help him whack…

SHUT UP! NO one needs to picture THAT shit! I will put you back in his room, and this time it’ll be overnight! And I WON’T come get you when he figures out that you have a snootch!

Sighs…Fine, fine, I take it back.

I’m sorry, LisaB. That client is considering a call, but it might be awhile before he makes up his mind.

There, Serra—are you FUCKING happy now?

Maybe. You just behave yourself and we’ll think about that trip to Hades you’ve earned.

Fine, slime. We’ll go talk to MoeThatsMe then:

YPF –
Will there be one month in the next 18 that there will NOT be an issue with the M/E processes?

Thanks, MTM

Answer: Nope. You haven’t made the proper sacrifices to Shiva and Kali to have that much fucking luck yet. YPF recommends animal sacrifice–a chicken will do if you can’t find a homeless person…

YPF…you’re pushing it!

If we ignore Serra, will she go away?

Nope.

All righty then! Next up we have a question from Julie:

YPF~

Will George Bush ever see Brokeback Mountain?

Answer: Yeah, but even being forced to watch it bent over a sawhorse with a ballgag in his mouth while rednecks sodomize him won’t make him admit that he likes it. However, Laura’s going to really wonder about his new, private DVD collection consisting of Buck Angel videos…

Next up we have Ian, who’s under 30 days away from being taken off the market! Those of you who lust after him best hurry up!

dear YPF
Will I ever stop watching Brokeback Mountain?????

Answer: Who can possibly stop watching anything with Heath Ledger and Jake Gyllenhaal? Besides, Ang Lee can do no wrong—he makes awesome pictures and I wish there was a theater closer that’s showing Brokeback Mountain because I haven’t seen it yet.

There, Serra! I was nice to everyone else—now, let’s talk about that

THUD! MMFFFF!!

Serra here again, folks. I just shoved YPF into the butt can while I decide how long she’ll be a guest of Garand’s House of Filth and Pr0n. I wonder if Honey’s got a d100 lying around anywhere?

Thanks once again and next week we’re going to talk about Ask YPF and whether or not it should continue, so get your opinions sharpened up and stay tuned!

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Comment Me Now!

February 3, 2006 at 6:00 am (Your Psychic Fiend)

Good evening everyone! It’s time once again for Ask Your Psychic Fiend, the meme that asks the question, “How long will it be before YPF just can’t act decently anymore?” Questions are posed in the comments for this post; answers are posted Friday when YPF is allowed to use the computer. I have to limit her time on the blog because she’s just too obnoxious for words and the one day a week she’s allowed to blog is all my nerves can take.

I’m warning you all right now–I have no idea how YPF will behave this week. Last week’s good behavior has to be considered a fluke until I get a look at her tomorrow.

Here’s the rules:

Note that the “Ask Your Psychic Fiend” feature is for entertainment purposes only. “Ask Your Psychic Fiend” is explosive when combined with MD 20-20, non-non-toxic, and classified as a Schedule I drug. Do not ask questions which might expose any confidential issues, identities, relationships or other sensitive topics you’re not willing to take shit about–I don’t actively seek to embarass people, but there’s trolls out on the Net. If you’re easily offended, don’t post a question, because you’re likely to really fucking hate the answer. Do not microwave Your Psychic Fiend. Psychic Fiend is a trademark-pending product of Knightdreams, Inc. All rights and copyrights are reserved to D. J. Lovely no matter which of her multiple personalities claim responsibility for the creative work. 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.

This post is stuck to the top of the blog until Friday at 6 am, so you’ll find other posts underneath it until I let YPF have her time.

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Ask YPF: The Gee Y’all Are Quiet Version

January 29, 2006 at 12:33 pm (Your Psychic Fiend)

Howdy everyone and welcome to this week’s edition of Ask Your Psychic Fiend. Here’s hoping YPF has kissed Serra’s ass enough since she let a bitch out of Garand’s room so that I can give you all some good answers. By the way, just as a cautionary note: Don’t piss Serra off—she now has the perfect punishment for anyone who provokes her. Trust a bitch when I say you don’t want to spend any length of time trussed up and in Garand’s room. Dayum, that guy’s something else! I’m not even going to dwell on the things I saw during those four hours enough to TELL you just how horrifying it was. Just picture Hostel with lots of aberrant sex and that won’t even come close.

No more—I can’t think about it anymore—I’m in my happy place, my happy place. I don’t see that nasty, horrible room; I don’t see that nasty bald horrible man…ah, much better.

So now—on with the psychic goodies:

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.


Anonymous Coworker
must think YPF’s asleep at the wheel:

If there were a future that even YPF couldn’t reveal, what would it be?

Answer: You’re going to have to get up earlier in the day if you think you’re going to catch YPF breaking the psychic rules. You know that if there’s a reason I can’t reveal something, asking what I can’t reveal just isn’t going to get me to spit it out. Da Grounds get snarky as hell if you try to go rogue on the rules, you know. It’s not fun trying to read answers when all they say is “Paul is Dead. Paul is dead.

In short, it’d cost you a WHOLE lot more than you pay me now to get me to break down and deal with Da Grounds when they’re mad. Nice try.

Next up we have Amber over at I Want to Be Donna Reed:

Will I ever be rich enough to just BLOG and WEB SURF all day???

Answer: Everyone’s got the whole “I’m rich—I can do what I want” all ass-backwards, Amber. We all think that when we have “enough money” to do what we want, we can just go fuck around all day long. Actually, the opposite is true.

When we’re poor, even though we have to work hard and long to get money for everything and we spend time doing things that rich people can pay others to do, we still have far fewer demands on our time because we’re not bossing all those morons who run things for us because we’re filthy rich. Once we’re off the work clock and we’ve done our thing around the house, we don’t have dumbasses calling to see if we wanted six olives on that Cobb salad we have a standing order for or seven. By the time we deal with all the nitpicky stuff others have to have our OK on (things we’d do in microseconds if we just fucking did them ourselves), there’s no time for all those things we want to do now that we’re leading supposed lives of leisure.

So be careful what you wish for—once you get it, you’ll find you really didn’t want it in the first place.

Our next question comes in from MoeThatsMe. Go Seahawks!

YPF, you KNOW you’re not supposed to take sides on shit like the Super Bowl unless the Pack is playing! –Serra

Yeah, I know, but the Seahawks coach is one we like, remember? Mike Holmgren.

Ohhh, yeah, that’s right. OK, YPF, you’re allowed to cheer for the Hawks—just don’t let Honey catch you. He’s a Steelers fan.

No problem. He forgot the blog addy anyhow.

Anyhow, here’s Moe’s question:

Will I make it home from Sacramento in time to enjoy the Seahawks in the Super Bowl??

The Hawks Rock!

Answer: What, someone actually expects you to take your ass to Sacramento on Super Bowl Sunday? That’s just fucking out of line and I’d explain to these folks that you’re just not going anywhere you don’t have to, unless they’re sending you to Detroit with an all-reservations made, all-expenses-paid trip to Detroit that includes tickets. Being so close to the D here, we don’t even plan to venture out of the house that day—we’ll be stocking the necessary munchables earlier in the week and having everything squared away in plenty of time to enjoy the game from home so we don’t have to drive amidst the tourists, morons and other out-of-towners that will be clogging the roads here.

If you just can’t get out of going, make certain you’ve made it clear that you will be departing Sacramento in plenty of time to make kickoff. Tell ‘em your grandma thinks it’ll be her last Super Bowl and you don’t want to disappoint the old bat. They’ll let you out in time if you’ve got a decent reason.

Note: Telling them that your grandfather is “suddenly dying of lung cancer and you have to go home to call him an ambulance” just won’t do it. Hat tip to MalSnay for what has to be the worst excuse to leave work EVAR.

Mona’s back, folks, with a very good one:

Dear Psychic Fiend,

What will I be?
Will I be pretty?
Will I be rich?
Will I get ‘Que Sera, Sera’ out of my head?

Mona

Answer: You’re damned lucky that song didn’t get stuck in YPF’s head, Mona! Dog, that’d be SOOOO annoying. Serra’s got the theme to Firefly stuck there now (she got the last DVD in the series from Netflix yesterday and the bonus features rock!) so there’s just no room for Doris Day, fortunately. The pain from the sinus infection the body has is bad enough—YPF would have to jab a knitting needle thru the body’s eardrums to make THAT shit stop!

Oh, that’s right, you had a question. Da Grounds have the answer: You’re already all of the above, so it’s too late. As for that song, go listen to the Firefly theme here:

Take me out to the black
Tell ‘em I ain’t comin’ back
Burn the land and boil the sea
You can’t take the sky from me.

That ought to chase that little ditty right out of your head.

Our next question is from LisaB:

Am I going to win big bucks in the lottery this year?

Answer: You know I can’t answer that question—it’s covered under the “Delicious surprises I can’t tell anyone about” clause in the Psychic Handbook. (Y’all didn’t know there was a handbook for this shit, did you? Oops—wasn’t sposed to tell you that either….) Anyhoo, do you really want a bitch to spoil a surprise that wonderful? Do you really want to know before it happens that someone may or may not dump an assload of money on your head, enabling you to have hot and cold running chocolate served by half-dressed men who are also coached to tell you that you’re gorgeous and hot and thin?

No, I didn’t think you did. But I can tell you that it helps if you actually buy a ticket for the drawing, for Dog’s sake! Sheesh! You gotta meet the Universe halfway here!

Next up is Clora Clairvoyant. Clora, YPF’s awful sorry for being so rude to you lately. I won’t do it again. At least not until I can purge the hideous images from last week’s punishment from my little brain.

Am I silly for going to a club for a “slumber party” night just because Janice Dickensen is hosting it?

Answer: Who’s Janice Dickensen? Whoever she is, don’t let her put your brassiere in the freezer—it’s hell on the elastic.

NEXT!

Hiya Ian!

Will I get my hedious lick-ass American visa on time? Or should I get the wedding postponed again?

Answer: Shit, not even the office you applied for that visa at knows if you’ll get it on time. You’d think they’d quit picking their asses long enough to get some work done ONCE a month or so, but NOOOOOO! They just love that “get paid to jerk off” thing they have going on. Da Grounds recommend calling them until you’re taking so much time away from their playing of games like “Grab ass,” “Pin the tail on the bureaucrat,” and “Photocopy our asses and mail them to our wives/girlfriends/boyfriends/hubbies” that they finally get your visa out to you just to shut you the fuck up.

It’s the only way to get it done, since they’re not going to do it without being nagged so much they think they’re home when they’re actually at work.

And that’s it for this edition of Ask Your Psychic Fiend. Maybe YPF’s being nice this week means that I’ll get away with more snark next week.

Don’t bet on it—I can still tie your ass back up, no problem. –Serra

Sighs…I know, Serra. You don’t have to do that. Wasn’t I a good YPF this week?

Yeah, you were this week, but that doesn’t mean I’ll quit watching you.

Why am I not surprised? It’s not like you have anything better to do.

Have a nice week folks, and see you next time.

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Comment Me Now!

January 27, 2006 at 6:00 am (Your Psychic Fiend)

Good evening everyone! It’s time once again for Ask Your Psychic Fiend, the meme that asks the question, “Is Garand YPF’s new boyfriend or did Serra finally find the perfect punishment?” Questions are posed in the comments for this post; answers are posted Friday when YPF is allowed to use the computer. I have to limit her time on the blog because she’s just too obnoxious for words and the one day a week she’s allowed to blog is all my nerves can take.

I expect YPF to be somewhat respectful this week. When I pulled her out of Garand’s room, she was shaking, babbling gibberish and begging me not to ever make her go in there again.

Here’s the rules:

Note that the “Ask Your Psychic Fiend” feature is for entertainment purposes only. “Ask Your Psychic Fiend” is explosive when combined with MD 20-20, non-non-toxic, and classified as a Schedule I drug. Do not ask questions which might expose any confidential issues, identities, relationships or other sensitive topics you’re not willing to take shit about–I don’t actively seek to embarass people, but there’s trolls out on the Net. If you’re easily offended, don’t post a question, because you’re likely to really fucking hate the answer. Do not microwave Your Psychic Fiend. Psychic Fiend is a trademark-pending product of Knightdreams, Inc. All rights and copyrights are reserved to D. J. Lovely no matter which of her multiple personalities claim responsibility for the creative work. 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.

This post is stuck to the top of the blog until Friday at 6 am, so you’ll find other posts underneath it until I let YPF have her time.

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Ask Your Psychic Fiend: The Swearing in Chinese Version

January 20, 2006 at 10:24 am (Your Psychic Fiend)

Howdy everyone! Welcome back to Whiplash Smile for another edition of Ask Your Psychic Fiend.

This week was purely awful. In the week since I’ve been allowed to blog last, I’ve been shoved into a flannel thong, had my hair cut into a mullet, been douched with Orange Spice essential oil, mailed in a cardboard box, been strip searched three times, then dipped in honey and turned loose in Cellblock C at Alderson Prison. The women there took one look at me, threw my ass in the shower, and shoved me, soaking wet and mad as hell, BACK in the fucking box, marked it “Return to Sender” and here I am, home again!

Guess that woman whose nipple I bit off won’t forget ME for awhile, will she? Serra’s really going to have to step up her game if she wants to punish me.

So, let’s get started—on with the asswaiver and the fun:

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.

Our first question is from Anonymous Coworker:

Ooh! This is where I ask two questions to make up for last week.

1) They’re not going to convict me for what I did, are they?

2) Would there be any benefit to me revealing my identity?

Answer: Da Grounds of Awesome Augury usually only let YPF answer one of your questions per week, but it’s my turn on the blog so the rules can piss off.

Answer #1:Yeah, they’re going to convict you. But then they’ll find you “Not guilty by reason of Nogification and sentence you to community service, where you’ll work at the cat shelter as a personal valet. Take the flea repellent along and you’ll be just fine.

Answer #2: You MUST stay anonymous, for many reasons. First, it’s the hook to your blog, no one knowing by reading it who you are. It gives you more artistic freedom than most bloggers get, so why futz it up? Second, there’s that domain name you bought—if you’re not anonymous anymore, that’s sort of oxymoronic then. Third, you could get seriously Dooced over some of your past entries, and that would just suck. Who would Serra read that I like THEN, huh? She reads a lot of blogs, but never lets me comment, the bitchbag. Sometimes I make her comment tho—she just doesn’t know it.

Hey—I’m only a bitchbag when you’ve earned it, YPF! –Serra

No, you’re a bitchbag all the time. Seriously, can’t you take meds for that?

Sigh…Just do what you’re supposed to here or I’ll truss you like a turkey and toss your ass in Garand’s room for a week.

You wouldn’t.

Don’t bet on it, slutball.

Uh, ok…on to the next question….

Seamus asks:

Is this false Spring gonna last – really – everything is leafing and coming out of the ground – even my attitude!???

Answer: It might, but chances are slim. Da Grounds says it’s very likely you’ll get slammed hard one last time this winter, so don’t count the buds before May.

Next question’s from Clora:

Now that I know I’m not pregnant, will people still read my blog?

Answer: Yep, they’ll read yer blog, because within six months you’re going to have another preggers scare. That’s what happens when you do those “parties” that men who pick you up on the strip take you to and forget the condom check…

Glaring from Serra

Uh, I mean, of course they’ll keep reading you Clora! House of Snark’s a great blog, written by a great upstanding member of the Vegas community, and you’re hot to boot. Who’d dream of NOT reading you, I’d like to know…is that better, Mistress Serra?

You forgot to tell her that if she wants to promo her blog, Blog Explosion’s an interesting place to go do it.

Oh, ok, Mistress Serra. Clora, it’s a great place to do it. Honestly.

MUCH better, YPF. Keep up the good work.

I’m trying very hard not to flip Serra off…Garand’s room? EW!

Next question is from LisaB:

Hmmm, have I met the man of my dreams? And has he met me?

Answer: Since Da Grounds show perfection only exists in dreams, it’s difficult to say you’ve met the personification of all you seek in a man. However, it’s YPF’s conceited opinion that you’ve met a damned fine one, well worth the time and effort. Da Grounds advise taking things as they come for the time being, and letting the coming cusp event lead you from there.

There you go again…sighs…with all the mumbo-jumbo like you’re a real psychic or something…

Serra, you KNOW there’s a fork in the road coming—it’s right there in Da Grounds.

Yeah, so SAY that instead of trying to audition for the online version of the Psychic Fiends Network.

Fine. Whatever.

Excuse me?

I mean, “Yes, Ma’am. Did I mention how lovely you look this morning?”

That’s better.

Our next question is from SpiderWalk aka BunnyWalk for our arachnophobic reader. You can quit scratching now, MooCow.

lol! This looks like fun. I can’t resist

If I forget what my sins are when I go to pray…will they still be forgiven??

Answer: Boy, that’s a loaded question if I ever saw one, SpiderWalk. Isn’t acknowledging that what you’ve done is actually a sin part of the forgiveness process? Or is that only true with religions that practice regular confession of sins? Seems to YPF the best answer is that only you and the Deity you pray to can be certain of what is and is not forgiven, since Da Grounds don’t really deal in theology. YPF would tell you go to Ask Blog Jeebus but he’s out of the blog business, at least for now.

Sorry, that’s the best answer I can give you, since I don’t know who you pray to or what set of teachings you believe in. Mostly Ask Your Psychic Fiend deals in the precognitive, not the theological.

Next up is Indri:

Am I ever going to use the rock tumbler my old boyfriend gave me because he knew I liked shiny rocks, or is it time for me to give it up?

Answer: As with all treasure, that call’s in the eye of the beholder. Da Grounds honestly don’t see you pulling it out for use anytime soon, but they also show that if you park it on a table at a garage or yard sale, sure as shit someone you know who shows up will bitch that you’re getting rid of “such a nifty thing” and try to make you feel bad for parting with it. Unless it’s your child asking you to keep it and try it out, fuck ‘em, feed ‘em carp. YPF personally thinks every kid should get to check out a rock polisher at least once in their kiddiehood, but anyone else who feels you should keep packing it away and kicking it around in the box every time it’s underfoot is either a member of the household Serra and I live in or is just as bad a packrat as they are.

In either case, they should be confined to a 10X10 space and only allowed to keep the shit that fits in there with them. It’s the only true punishment for a packrat—forcing them to either live with no room or to rid themselves of some of their useless shit.

NEXT!

Hiya Se7en—good to see you back.

Dear YPF, I can’t seem to remember my question, can you tell me what it was? And then provide the answer as well?

Signed,
Brain Dead in NO

Answer: Da Grounds know the question as always, and YPF has to admire the way your mind works. First, don’t go quite so fast—increase intensity slowwwwly. Second, DO wear THAT. It really shows off your ass and you look hot.

YPF! You tell that nice man the TRUTH and I mean NOW!

Fuck you, ho—I’ll say whatever—

NO! Tell him the truth NOW.

Fine. Bitchass hobag.

Se7en, Da Grounds show that you’re seeking, but they really don’t know what of the three specific trains of quest you meant to ask YPF about. Just because YPF wouldn’t mind seeing you in something leather, sexy and tight across the ass, it doesn’t mean I should encourage you to do it. It’s really not nice of me, and…

Now you’re just laying it on thick because you know you’re in trouble. Stop it and behave.

Sigh…OK, Se7en, don’t forget your blood test appointment.

And that’s all the….THUMPTHUMPTHUD…mrrrfurrf fffffoosnt

Hi, folks, Serra again. That’s all the time I’m going to let YPF show her ass on my blog this week. Since she was nasty-assed to people four times, she’s going to spend four hours in Garand’s room…

MMRHFFF MMRRRRFFGGGGGGGG!

Yes, you are, you snotty little rat-assed dipshit! He doesn’t work today, so I’m sure your punishment will be quite, um, interesting, don’t you think?

HFNNNNRRRRRRR!

Tough shit—maybe next time you’ll do as your betters tell you to.

That’s it folks—see you next time.

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Comment Me Now!

January 20, 2006 at 6:00 am (Your Psychic Fiend)

Good evening everyone! It’s time once again for Ask Your Psychic Fiend, the meme that asks the question, “Is YPF back from Alderson and did it teach her a lesson?” Questions are posed in the comments for this post; answers are posted Friday when YPF is allowed to use the computer. I have to limit her time on the blog because she’s just too obnoxious for words and the one day a week she’s allowed to blog is all my nerves can take.

Here’s the rules:

Note that the “Ask Your Psychic Fiend” feature is for entertainment purposes only. “Ask Your Psychic Fiend” is explosive when combined with MD 20-20, non-non-toxic, and classified as a Schedule I drug. Do not ask questions which might expose any confidential issues, identities, relationships or other sensitive topics you’re not willing to take shit about–I don’t actively seek to embarass people, but there’s trolls out on the Net. If you’re easily offended, don’t post a question, because you’re likely to really fucking hate the answer. Do not microwave Your Psychic Fiend. Psychic Fiend is a trademark-pending product of Knightdreams, Inc. All rights and copyrights are reserved to D. J. Lovely no matter which of her multiple personalities claim responsibility for the creative work. 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.

This post is stuck to the top of the blog until Friday at 6 am, so you’ll find other posts underneath it until I let YPF have her time.

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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:

Image hosted by Photobucket.com

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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Comment Me Now!

January 13, 2006 at 6:01 am (Your Psychic Fiend)

Good evening everyone! It’s time once again for Ask Your Psychic Fiend, the meme that asks the question, “How snotty can the out-of-control ho-bag personality that lives inside Serra’s head be and still be allowed to live outside the cigarette butt can?” Questions are posed in the comments for this post; answers are posted Friday when YPF is allowed to use the computer. I have to limit her time on the blog because she’s just too obnoxious for words and if she wants more time she can start her own fucking blog.

Oh, wait, no she can’t because I won’t let her. She’s not fit for decent company and I refuse to be responsible for her other than her one rant a week.

Here’s the rules:

Note that the “Ask Your Psychic Fiend” feature is for entertainment purposes only. “Ask Your Psychic Fiend” is explosive when combined with MD 20-20, non-non-toxic, and classified as a Schedule I drug. Do not ask questions which might expose any confidential issues, identities, relationships or other sensitive topics you’re not willing to take shit about–I don’t actively seek to embarass people, but there’s trolls out on the Net. If you’re easily offended, don’t post a question, because you’re likely to really fucking hate the answer. Do not microwave Your Psychic Fiend. Psychic Fiend is a trademark-pending product of Knightdreams, Inc. All rights and copyrights are reserved to D. J. Lovely no matter which of her multiple personalities claim responsibility for the creative work. 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.

This post is stuck to the top of the blog until Friday at 6 am, so you’ll find other posts underneath it until I let YPF have her time.

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Ask Your Psychic Fiend: The Flaming Table Stack Version

January 6, 2006 at 10:37 am (Your Psychic Fiend)

Good afternoon (it’s morning now but it’ll be after noon by the time I finish writing this up) and welcome to this week’s edition of Ask Your Psychic Fiend. This week’s version name comes from the DVD Serra got from Netflix yesterday. She watched “ECW: Extreme Evolution” while she finished H’sMa’s scarf. During one match, this little itty bitty guy went through 2 FLAMING tables, after demolishing a concession stand, taking a cheese grater upside his head repeatedly, and spent a good 20 minutes giving as good as he got. Damn, YPF misses good wrestling—now we’re stuck with small doses of TNA and massive amounts of garbage. Bleh, it’s just not as much fun to watch as it used to be. Most of those ECW guys either work for WWE now or did for awhile, and Vinnie Mac just plain wasted the most talent he ever had at his disposal.

Oh, well, you didn’t come here to mourn the death of pro wrestling, you came to see what Da Grounds of Infinite Augury say, so let’s throw ‘em at the wall and see what sticks. 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—on with the show.

First up is MoeThatsMe, with an interesting question:

ohhhh First! YEAH!
No what was the question?

When will I recover from the empty (not so empty) nest syndrom going on in my heart now that I have to make an appointment to spend time with my 20 year old son … even tough he lives in the same house!?

Answer: Da Grounds say there’s a few ways you can choose to deal with it. If you’d like a spontaneously-done, quiet yet fun evening at home, simply swipe his distributor cap and you’ll have instant kid-at-home. When you take the cap off, leave the wires on so that it’s not so hard to replace when you finally admit you just wanted some time with the kid.

Perhaps a better answer would be starting a “Dinner and a Movie Night” at home. Pick a movie theme that everyone likes, plot either ordering in, taking out, or whomping up a batch of food that works well in front of the tube, and watch two or three movies together. If the movies suck, you’ll be talking, giggling and doing your own version of MST3000. If they’re good, you’ll all be digging them together. Either way, you can’t lose, can you?

Another idea is a once a month day out for you and the kids. Pick somewhere you all want to go visit and do it. Once a month isn’t much time to ask for, and while it’s actually making an appointment with the kid, it does make him realize you would like to see where all the disappearing food and soda pop you’re putting in the house goes.

Hope these help and have fun!

Next vict—

What did I tell you about calling the people who ask you questions “victims,” YPF? I told you it wasn’t nice. –Serra

Oh, suck me sideways, ya fat ho! This is MY time to piss off the Internet, so shut the—

Think about that before it comes out your piehole, YPF. Martha still has buddies in the Joint who want to “meat” you…

Le Sigh…fine. Just shut the fuck up so I can think here.

Our next question comes to us from the fine folks over at The Sock Monkey. It’s great to see you, Jane Bear.

Will my cat marry yours? And if so, will they invite us to their wedding?

Answer: Da Grounds say not until one of our states allows gays to marry—my kitty’s a girl too, you see. Besides, my cat can’t cook—she just sits by her dish and awaits service from one of the slaves she has here in the house. Your cat would get the shitty side of the litterbox. Hope yours is feeling better though.

Next is Anonymous Coworker, with a dire problem indeed.

I seem to have lost my blog mojo! What can I do to get my mojo back?

Answer: Da Grounds say you need to feed your head. “Garbage in, garbage out” is an absolutely true statement, and look at what you’ve been feeding your brain lately. All that eggnog has plugged your cranial blood supply full of cholesterol-laden, nutmeg-spiced goodness. (By the way, what on earth made you think that any eggnog that started its shelf life in powdered form could possibly taste like anything but lighter fluid?) You’ve been binging on rich, low-nutrient foods, TV shows and movies, icky-sweet Christmas specials, challenging your brain’s systems only with trying to find parking spaces at crowded malls and finding your way over the river and thru the woods.

It’s time to get back to basics—Go see Hostel or some other movie that’s totally devoid of sweetness and light. Arrange some sort of drunken debauchery. Skip the strip mall and find a strip club! Shake off the “Oh, it’s the holidays, aren’t the lights pretty?” mentality and get back to normal and you’ll find your mojo, resting amongst the ammo for the air pistol that is your blogging sense.

Our next question comes from LisaB:

Am I going to have a happy birthday?

Answer: Da Grounds have a lot of questions, but the answers are really none of their business, so we’re just going to have to pretend they’re not being so fucking snoopy and read the other things on the wall.

Hold on…he really wore that? Oh, Lisa, you lucky WENCH!

The answer is, of course, yes, you’re going to have a happy birthday—with the company you keep it’s impossible not to. You’ve got a great pile of friends there with you, so you’re going to have a wonderful birthday.

Our next query floated in from Clora. Hope your party was really fun and no one got divorced or arrested over it.

That reminds me—I should tell you about a friend of mine whose parties were famous for those very things, but that’s several posts all by themselves, so we’ll do it another time.

will this gross hacking cough that hurts my throat and lungs ever go away? I feel like a smoker!

Answer: Sure, it’ll go away. Just set the crack pipe down and start mainlining your coke. You know you want to anyway. You’ll do less coke and get more bang for your buck.

YPF! You apologize to Clora! You KNOW she’s not that kind of Clairvoyant! –Serra

Aw, blow it out yer ass, Serra! She lives in Vegas—VEGAS, BABY!

So the fuck what, you stoopid ho? Who do you think serves all that tourism industry there? Not everyone in Vegas is doing lines off a hooker’s ass and wondering which cockfight they’re going to see after watching that snuff film.

Yes they are—it’s VEGAS, BABY!

No, they’re not! There ARE normal, happy, well-adjusted, sober folks in Las Vegas! There HAVE to be—how else does the place run, do you think?

The midgets run it after the daily human sacrifices…

YPF, I’m gonna shove your ass in a coffee can full of cigarette butts again, but this time I’m mailing the fucker to Alderson!

NOOOOOO!

Oh, yes, bitch. Just keep running your face and being nasty to Clora and see how fast Priority Mail will get you there.

Sighs…Fine. Spoil the fun.

Sorry, folks, Serra’s really turning into an old bag.

Clora’s serious answer: If you’re still feeling like hammered shit by the time you read this, you should hie your ass over to a doctor. I know they’re awful busy there checking hookers for stray balloons of heroin, but there should be one with enough time to get you on an antibiotic. If it hasn’t let up yet you likely do need one. Meanwhile go find some Mucinex at the drugstore—that shit’ll clear your lungs enough to breathe quite nicely. Diffusing some eucalyptus in a steamy bathroom will ease your chest some as well.

There, Serra—I was nice. ARE YOU FUCKING HAPPY NOW?

Maybe. I’m going to keep an eye on this though. We have a new guy asking questions and he may not understand that your weekly post is an exercise in bitchdom. Be NICE to him or it’s the cinnamon essential oil enema for you!

Whatever. Yawn. Done now?

Yep.

Can I get on with this?

If you behave, yep.

At last.

Hi, Euian—welcome to Ask Your Psychic Fiend. If you don’t like the answer to your question, YPF politely suggests that you read the disclaimers and rules.

What birthday present will I recieve this coming Friday 13th?

Answer: Da Grounds have an excellent birthday laid out for you. Ponies, clowns, strippers, body shots, the whole excellent party thing going on…

I told you I was watching, YPF—you tell Euian what you really see!

Fine, bitch, what—EVAR!

Euian, our policy here on Ask Your Psychic Fiend is not to ever ever blow the surprise on things like Christmas, birthday parties, whether it’s a boy or a girl, and things like that. That means I can’t actually tell you what you’re getting for your birthday, but a nice hefty shot of Penicillin will cure it.

THAT DOES IT!

SLAM!

Stepping up to the podium, the coffee can I’m carrying thumping and trying to jump out of my hands.

Hi, folks, Serra here. YPF has to go now because she doesn’t know how to behave in decent company. I’m sorry, Euian, but we really don’t blow surprises here. It’s more fun to discover them the usual way.

I have to get going now too—I have a cinnamon oil enema to give, then I have to pack a box for the mailman, and email Martha so she can tell her friends there’s fresh meat on the way.

Feel free to sign up for the Ask YPF notices list over on the sidebar and leave anything you have to say in the comments below.

Damn, I don’t look forward to trying to put this bitch in a thong for delivery.

See ya!

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Comment Me Now!

January 6, 2006 at 6:00 am (Your Psychic Fiend)

Good evening everyone! If it’s not evening, then you’re slacking on your blog-reading and time-wasting, since I’m posting this Wednesday night.

It’s time once again for Ask Your Psychic Fiend, the meme that asks you to post personal questions in the comments at the Comment Me Now post (that would be this one), then does her smartassed best to piss you off with the answers. Answers are posted Friday when YPF is allowed to use the computer. I have to limit her time on the blog because she’s just too obnoxious for words and if she wants more time she can start her own fucking blog.

Here’s the rules:

Note that the “Ask Your Psychic Fiend” feature is for entertainment purposes only. “Ask Your Psychic Fiend” is Boone’s Farm-soluble, non-non-toxic, and Haz Mat Category IV. Do not ask questions which might expose any confidential issues, identities, relationships or other sensitive topics you’re not willing to take shit about–I don’t actively seek to embarass people, but there’s trolls out on the Net. If you’re easily offended, don’t post a question, because you’re likely to really fucking hate the answer. Do not microwave Your Psychic Fiend. Psychic Fiend is a trademark-pending product of Knightdreams, Inc. All rights and copyrights are reserved to D. J. Lovely no matter which of her multiple personalities claim responsibility for the creative work. 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.

This post is stuck to the top of the blog until Friday at 6 am, so you’ll find other posts underneath it until I let YPF have her time.

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Ask Your Psychic Fiend: The Unnatural Act Version

December 26, 2005 at 11:06 am (Your Psychic Fiend)

Hey there, sports fans! Your Psychic Fiend here, and I did indeed have a Cool Yule! Serra’s brother is the shit–he sent her a french press for her morning addiction, and is that puppy ever SA-WEET! She now has only herself to blame if the coffay sucks, and you wouldn’t believe the way Da Grounds dance when they’re not all tied up in a stoopid filter! It’s great to have killer brew on tap whenever you want it, and thanks tons to Beo for the nifty giftie!

Now–on with the show, folks. 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 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 penisbiters like Miss Cleo and her ilk should have been smashed against a rock at birth.

Our first brave soul this week is LisaB:

Question for PF, Is my work schedule going to be very busy in January 2006?

Answer: Da Grounds on the wall are writing a VERY long list, a very long list indeed! Along with the things you’re expecting and the tedium of maintaining your beautiful self, there’s a couple items Da Grounds put a star next to, things you aren’t expecting. They’re mostly good though, but do make sure your main mode of transport is well-maintained and that’ll help with the unexpected a great deal.

They also tell a bitch to tell you that you should make time for yourself—take your own ass on a “date” once a month! Even if it’s just a trip to some store you love but that isn’t necessarily what people think of as “you,” don’t neglect it. Just admit your love for the place and be done with it.

Our next question comes from Clora Clairvoyant, who happens to be Serra’s one and only Netflix friend. Isn’t that sad? Just one lonely soul on the Interwebnets will admit that they know the little schitzo.

BTW, if you’ll be willing to admit you know her too, her email’s serrathescented at gmail dot com. Serra really needs ideas for things to watch, folks—her queue’s only 702 movies long!

Will I get Jan. 1st off for my Hanukkah Bash, or will I have to work because I waited to long to ask for it off?

Answer: Da Grounds predict a little mini-doom on this count—you’re likely too late to ask off, but there’s a good chance you can sell your soul to the Cat and switch with a co-worker. It will definitely cost you, though—getting that day off is a plum that most don’t want to give up. Don’t promise sexual favors in return tho—that always ends badly. After all, if someone can only get laid by holding up pretty coworkers over days off, chances are they suck in the sack.

NEXT!

Hiya Brigadiere! Long time no hassle you! Is that Smiggins with you?

*ahuuurm*

*tap tap* Is this thingie working?? Ah good good. Right then! Ms. Psychic Fiendishness I do apologize for my recent absences to this prophetic plank of inquirity. Bewitching board of inquiry, that is.

As I’ve been away on extended holiday and have been unable to ask any questions I shall be asking two this time. One for myself and one for my man-child servant Smiggins.

Getting on with it all then:

1.) Recently I have become aware that I am being watched. Even during my most personal of moments! As a mostly law abiding denizen of this greatish nation, I ask you.. Why would anyone want to watch me make poo-poos?

2.) Smiggins would like to know why the various herbal poisons he’s been using to try to off me haven’t been particularly effective in getting the job done.

Yours paranoidedly on the pot,
Sir Brigadiere General Grend31, Mrs.

Answers: Brigadiere, Darling, no one WANTS to watch you make dooky. However, it’s all part and parcel of spying on your every move…FYI man, alright. You could sit at home, and do like absolutely nothing, and your name goes through like 17 computers a day. 1984? Yeah right, man. That’s a typo. Orwell is here now. He’s livin’ large. We have no names, man. No names. We are nameless!

Shaking my head…That new voice in my head’s right though. Since you wouldn’t agree to be RFID chipped, you made the dudes in black suspicious. They’ve set up mondo surveillance on your butt; hence the feeling that you’re being watched. Soon as it’s possible to get a fake chip, do so and that raising of the hackles will go away.

Smiggins, you really should pay attention to YPF when she talks. Just remember what happened the last time. No matter what they tell you, Cannabis Sativa is not the Latin name for arsenic, you subservient dumbass! They only thing that’ll do is make it impossible for Master to pay your salary and he’ll have to rent out your orifices again. You won’t like it any better this time, I assure you.

Just knock off the dumb shit—you’ll only get caught and it’ll go harder on your orifices when you do.

Next up is Sloth. Hiya and welcome!

My cat is 17 yrs old and deaf. Is he going to die next year or what? 17 years! Enough already!!

Answer: You’ll miss the kittykitty when he goes, Sloth. Da Grounds are vague on when that’ll be, but it’s possible the little stubborn bugger will last another whole year. Cats are surprising that way.

Our next query is posed by MoeThatsMe. Hope you had a Cool Yule Moe and got lots of…cookies, yes, that’s it, that’s the ticket, COOKIES.

Oh Hurty Fiend, oh Hurty Fiend

How … wait.. that’s not what we’re here for…

Plz help!

What is the proper punishment for the co-worker that leaves a large box of chocolates in the lunch room, by the water cooler? And … what is the proper punishment for the individual (most likely a co-slacker) that removes the last bit of said chocolate and can’t be bothered to toss the empty box in the garbage?

Thanks Fiendy – Good thoughts and Wellness headed your direction.

Happy Holidays!

Answer: The giver of such heinous hunks of human heaven should have their salad tossed thoroughly. No, that’s not a punishment—it’s knowing that during the horribleday season the body becomes accustomed to random sugar infusions and when they’re not available people get edgy and annoying. The thoughtful camper who left a little box of pickmeups by the water cooler did a pubic service, and in return should receive one.

The assbag who failed to remove said box post-excavation, however, should be taken out and shot.

Now.

Seriously, go do it.

I’ll wait.

I’ll wait as long as it takes. I’ve got…BANG…Thanks.

Next up we have a question from Cass.

Will I ever figure out how to get the flickr button thingy on my blog? Or will I be tormented with it? Oh, and will Serra relly share her booze if I come over and wrap her presents?

Answer: Screw it Cass, and go get a Photobucket account. They’re free, and once you upload your pics you get three different codes for use in posting to your blog. Even a brain-dead fogy like Serra can manage to post her own pics that way. Seriously, if this stoopid bitch would ever join the 21st Century I’d drop my teeth! She’s still pissed that Nintendo doesn’t support her Super Nintendo! How old is THAT bucket of transistors anyhow?

Here, now…where’d I put the cinnamon EO? –Serra

Hastily adding…Isn’t Serra just adorable people? SOOO retro!

That’s better. Stupid ho.

Oh, and not only will Serra share, she’ll tend bar in the raw to get someone to wrap presents for her. Hates it, she does.

Next question’s being asked by…NOBODY! That’s the last one!

Whew! One more need to suck up to Serra and I’d just lose my mind…Anyhoo, folks, thanks for being so patient. The back is still raising Cain but Serra will hopefully start getting caught up slowly but surely.

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Comment Me Now and Update

December 26, 2005 at 6:00 am (Your Psychic Fiend)

It's Ask Your Psychic Fiend time again, ladies, germs, and others. Martha emailed again, this time asking when "that nice psychic girl" was going to make good on her promise to service her old buds over there in Alderson. Guess it made the Field sort of paranoid, because she's really been a good Fiend.

For those new to the blog, you post your questions in the comments section of this post, then the little sociopath answers them. Heaven help her if she mouths off this week. Martha emailed me again this past week–seems some of her buddies from Alderson are looking for fresh fish, so YPF knows the penalty for pissing me off.

Here's the asswaiver:

Note that the "Ask Your Psychic Fiend" feature is for entertainment purposes only. "Ask Your Psychic Fiend" is water-soluble, non-non-toxic, and Haz Mat Category IV. If "Ask Your Psychic Fiend" catches fire, do not attempt to fight it–call 911, scream your death scream, put your head between your legs and kiss your ass goodbye. Do not ask questions which might expose any confidential issues, identities, relationships or other sensitive topics. If you're easily offended, don't post a question, because you're likely to really fucking hate the answer. Do not microwave Your Psychic Fiend. Do not water Your Psychic Fiend after midnight PST. 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.

Since the incident Saturday, I've been feeling like hammered shit–easily chilled, running low fevers, headaches, and more body aches than I thought I had body parts. So the blogging is slow, as are other things going on (VERY sorry Val–soon as I feel better).

UPDATE: I've moved this post to stick to the top of the blog until Monday. No, I don't have enough wrong with me (fever, heavy cough, sneezing, headache, body aches) but the coughing and sneezing have thrown my back out. Yes, on Christmas Eve. Nice, yes?

Anyhoo, I'll take questions until Monday morning due to the horribledays and my back. I should be able to post answers then.

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Ask Your Psychic Fiend: The B1tchsicle Version

December 18, 2005 at 10:00 am (Your Psychic Fiend)

Hidey Ho Bloggers! It’s time once again for Ask Your Psychic Fiend, the popular game show where YPF sees how many of you she can piss off! First, the obligatory asswaiver, which you really should read, then onto the victims.

I meant contestants, really I did…oh, screw it—here’s the waiver:

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 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 penisbiters like Miss Cleo and her ilk should have been smashed against a rock at birth.

And, first up is Amber!

Alright – I'm still annoyed with YPF for putting me in my place last week, but I'm going to try again.

Will Brad be getting a job anytime soon? He's driving me NUTS!! I can't surf, I can't blog, I can't read others blogs, because he thinks I'm addicted to the computer.

Up! Better go he just got back.

Peace,
A

Amber, you really should read the asswaivers posted with the comment and answers posts. This is playtime for Your Psychic Fiend, and if you’re going to take the answers you get to heart, maybe you should reconsider asking me anything.

Answer: I know how you feel, and I hope both you and Serra get this for Christmas. Men—they’re always underfoot when they’re not employed full-time, aren’t they?

Next up is Anonymous Coworker:

Christmas presents for cats is just crazy, right? They have no concept of ownership, much less surprise, or generosity.

Answer: On the contrary, ACW, cats own everything they see! Everything—including the people who are demented enough to think they actually own the cats. You belong to Sherlock, bud, not the other way around, so you best have an offering for the furry Godthing in your life. I don’t advise wrapping it (that’ll just piss the Godthing off) or putting it under the tree (then he’ll think the whole tree is a shiny, lit-up new playground made just for him). And too ostentatious an offering will make him think he’s being too nice to you and letting you make too much money. Just find a nice catnip mousie and be done with it.

Two warnings for cats and Christmas:

1. Don’t put the tinsel on the tree!!!! I don’t care how traditional it is, your cat could die from trying to eat it because it will either choke them by getting stuck under their tongues or from knotting their intestines.

2. Don’t give any of those nifty new toys treated with Catnip essential oil—cats can’t metabolize EO’s and it could raise Hell with their livers.

/end pubic service announcement.

Our next question comes to us from LisaB:

I love the PF and Serra – this rocks!

OK, am I going to have a fun Christmas Week and NYE?

Answer: Da Grounds show a major surprise, and even YPF won’t give away a surprise at Christmastime, but yeah, something will happen that’ll balance out all the bullshit that surrounds the season. Just watch out for the sushi.

Next up we have MoeThatsMe!

Hiya Moe!

Serra, quit throwing in shoutouts—you get the blog ALLLL the time, I just get one post a week. Bitch.

Oh, quitcher whining, YPF. If you had the manners Dog gave a puppy you’d get more time. And didn’t I give you a posting under your very own username? Aren’t I nice?

Yeah, yeah, but what have you done for me lately? Let me work in peace.

Fiend, oh Fiend.. my favorite Fiend
(can you tell I'm stalling cause I don't have a question that is not LAME!)

What do I want for Christmas? Folks keep askign me, and the only answer I seem to have is "World Pees" ~ to which they walk off shaking their heads… Help!

Answer: Da Grounds say they’re not visualizing what you’re asking for correctly. “Whirled Peas” they’d get. I’m sure you don’t want the whole world to piss at once…

Or do you?

Anyhoo, if they understand that you need fresh, sweet baby peas pureed to a pretty green sauce-like consistency, they’d totally understand you need a good blender to do that. Besides, candles are also a marvelous giftie for you, yes?

NEXT!

Hiya Clora!

Will I crack from being subjected to Winter Wonderland sung by 75 different singers at the mall?

Answer: Da Grounds show this going one of two ways, as it is a cusp event in your life. You will either sneaky-sneak into the room where those singers keep their stuff and hose the place down with Silly String, or you’ll quietly go find a latte and pour peppermint schnapps into it every time you take a sip. Either way, you’ll wind up feeling just a little bit better about everything.

Da Grounds also say combining the two will not help you when you go to court, but you’ll laugh harder about it all afterwards.

Our next victim is Brighton.

Let's see….will my Dad get rid of the restaurant soon?

Answer: Da Grounds are really fuzzy on this one, as your Dad changes his mind as often as he changes his socks. However, if he starts making noises about a deal where he lets LIG and her hosebeast pay as they go to buy the joint, commit him immediately! Da Grounds say there’s a chance that LIG has already proposed this shit to him and he’s thinking about it. He’s got better buyers awaiting his nice restaurant, so don’t let him piss it away on an ultimately doomed scheme.

Besides, that fucking LIG should be smacked with a Budweiser stein until she falls down.

YPF knows this is a hard question, Brighton, so she’s trying not to be a biatch about the answer. Seriously, don’t let him do something stoopid with the place.

Ian’s up next:

Am I crazy already or I should keep on waiting to hear voices in my head?

Answer: You’re not fooling anyone, honey. We already know those voices are your best friends and that you’re so used to them by now that you’ve sent them an invitation to the wedding. Just don’t listen to them when it comes to picking your ensemble for the ceremony. They’re just plain wrong about that. You totally should wear white, but the leather’s overkill.

Our next query comes from Se7en:

OMG, I'm late to the party! eeep!

here's my question:

Will you forgive me for being late?

signed,
better late than never

Answer: You know I’ll forgive you anything, Gorgeous Man! I’m late too so don’t sweat it.

And that’s the end of another fabulous bitch session! Have a good day, and I’m going to go watch Enter the Dragon and finish the Bebop DVD since Serra fell asleep on us last night.

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Comment Me Now!

December 16, 2005 at 6:00 am (Your Psychic Fiend)

It’s Ask Your Psychic Fiend time again, ladies, germs, and others. I’ve finally convinced YPF that I am going to give her a cinnamon essential oil douche if she doesn’t behave this week, so I’m going to let her answer your questions once again.

For those new to the blog, you post your questions in the comments section of this post, then the little sociopath answers them. Heaven help her if she mouths off this week. Here’s hoping that the little wench behaves decently. She’s been a good little psycho the last two weeks, so I might be pushing it.

Here’s the asswaiver:

Note that the “Ask Your Psychic Fiend” feature is for entertainment purposes only. “Ask Your Psychic Fiend” is water-soluble, non-non-toxic, and Haz Mat Category IV. If “Ask Your Psychic Fiend” catches fire, do not attempt to fight it–call 911, scream your death scream, put your head between your legs and kiss your ass goodbye. Do not ask questions which might expose any confidential issues, identities, relationships or other sensitive topics. If you’re easily offended, don’t post a question, because you’re likely to really fucking hate the answer. 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.

I’ll stick this post to the top of the blog, with more recent posts under it. I still have a little ways to go on the project I’m working on, but if I get time I’ll blog a little before I let YPF have the floor.

***Tired of the million tedious checks you do each week, trying to find out if it’s time yet? I set up an announcement-only list for folks who just need to know. Two posts a week, always from me, no spammage allowed.

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Ask Your Psychic Fiend: The “Hide and Go Suck” version

December 9, 2005 at 12:45 pm (Your Psychic Fiend)

With all the knitting I’ve been doing, I’m going thru a lot of DVDs. I’m running out of things in our collection here (and have no interest in enlisting Garand as my video bitch because I know he’ll complain after about the fourth movie I ask him to chase down), so I took Netflix up on a free trial and I’m wondering if I should have sprung for the 3-video deal. I opted for two-out-at-a-time, and I’m still finding myself watching shit like this. Oh, well, I use the same email there as I do everywhere else, so if you want to be on my friends list there, just send me an invite.

Garbage movies with Neve Cambell and Denise Richards aside, it’s time to let the bitch out of the can and let Your Psychic Fiend answer your questions once again. First, 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 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 penisbiters like Miss Cleo and her ilk should have been smashed against a rock at birth.

Hiya everyone–YPF here–time to get started. First up today is Clora Clairvoyant, that star of stage, screen and blogland.

Will I ever feel normal?

Answer: Define normal.

Seriously, this is your answer. What’s normal for you might look fuckin’ strange to Da Grounds, so it’s hard to know if they’re just off on an LSD flashback or if there’s really something actually weird going on. For instance, Serra doesn’t have an issue when Honey buys her sharp pointy things, so she LOVED the Swiss Champ he got her for her first birthday while they were dating. Other women would have been pissed to get one, no matter what the little bastards cost.

The point is, it’s easy to see what Da Grounds show, but hard to judge normality, and it’s not my place here to judge anything.

In other news, you’re going to love the Christmas present that….but that’s not for me to tell either. Far be it from me to ruin the surprise.

Next up we have Seamus, who I think has broken out the Christmas stash, if you know what I’m saying…

Plane travelling East at 540MPH – will it always land in the east and why are there “not nutz” in bags that don’t open?

Answer: Yes. No matter where the plane lands, it’s always East of something, isn’t it? The real question is, “Where do they bury the survivors?”

There’s “not nutz” in those bags because airlines have used the Peanut Allergy Fandance to obscure the fact that they’re spending less on letting the mechanics fix the planes when necessary, thereby making air travel more dangerous for us and more profitable for them. Once things get really bad for them, they’ll pack “nutz” in those “not nutz” bags and let the ensuing hooraw over that major mistake cover something else up.

Our next question comes in from Lisa B:

Is the man I am seeing Mr. Right?

Answer: Da Grounds are furry on that right now, Lisa. However, there will be three pivotal happenings that will tell you whether or not he really is Mr. Right or if he’s simply Mr. Righthereinfrontofyou. As you pass each of the three, you’ll realize that each one is a key to unlock the mystery. I can’t tell you which events they are because they’re cusp events and revealing them specifically could influence the Universe and ultimately mess up your destiny, and we just can’t have that.

Laurie over at Stranded in Suburbia asks:

Am I going to get a full time job soon?

Answer: Da Grounds say you could get a full-time job anytime in the next two months, but the true question is, “Do you really want to do the job?” While you’re really overqualified for frog-tending, it IS full-time given enough frogs to care for, and so it will be when someone makes you the job offer…

All right! BACK the amphibian UP, bitch! –Serra

Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?

What’s with the philosophical and existential bullshit today? Did you have a brain tumor for breakfast? You KNOW you’re just spouting shit here.

Like that’s something new, stoopid?

Yeah, but NOW you DO sound like Miss Cunt-oh! Making folks believe you actually have a fucking clue when you and I both know you’d have to go buy one to really own it.

Fine, bitch. Now, can I get on with this?

Sighs…Yeah, fine. Just knock off the fancy-assed metaphysical baloney. We have an agreement and Martha’s old cellmate’s awfully lonely.

Whateva.

Next question’s from Amber. I like this woman’s blog—she’s not afraid to wonder the same things I do sometimes.

Will I ever fulfill my dreams to become the perfect wife and mother? Or is Donna Reed just an erie fantasy?

Answer: Da Grounds show the old adage is true. Nobody’s perfect, Amber. Not even YPF. Our personal salvations lie in the fact that we try our hardest, striving for that perfection, and the fact that we do our best is why we still receive our rewards. It’s when we quit trying that we truly fail.

I thought I told you—

Suck it, Serra! You know what I said is absolutely true, so bite my ass!

Ahhh, ok, you get away with it this time.

Onward and upward, we have Ian. Congrats, Ian, and I know you’re going to have a great wedding.

I´m trying to find a song for my wedding

any suggestion dear YPF?

Answer: Boy, I’m glad you didn’t ask Serra for this one—SHE wants THIS for her wedding music. Personally I think you might want to check out “Amazed” by Lonestar. Serra hates it but mostly because it’s overdone, but it’s a great one and more offbeat than “Here Comes the Bride.” Another good suggestion is some Bach instrumentals.

Our next question comes to us from Mona Buonanotte:

Dear YPF,

What am I getting for Christmas?

Mona

Answer: Oh, dearest Mona, I so severely DON’T think I’m answering that one! Santa would leave a lump of coal in my stocking and Sergei would sue me so bad I wouldn’t have a pit to hiss in! You’ll love it though, you know you will, all of it, and there will be sex either before or after.

Besides, Sergei already bribed us not to tell.

NEXT!

Hiya Moe!

Help Fiend, Help!

Will the P Group eva understand that the D vendor has other things to do for the B forms that prevent the P Project from being the top on the list every G.D. Month?

Or – when will they get a F’n clue?

A: G, MTM, u’ll have to spell it out. You know the P group thinks they’re King S on Turd Mtn. They only think that tho cuz the M Boss gave them a BJ and now they think their S smells like R’s and should be a new fud grp. So, F’em.

Our next query was posted by Se7en:

Dear YPF,

I was thinking about getting my hair cut short again, will I lose my herculean strength and sex appeal?

signed,
long haired freak

Answer: You know Serra’s partial to long-haired freaks, Se7en. She LUVS that running her fingers thru thing. YPF’s seen those pictures of you both ways, though, and you look excellent either way. If a bitch had to choose, though, I like you in the shorter hair—it really makes your eyes stand out, and you have excellent eyes.

Well, that’s it for another edition of Ask Your Psychic Fiend. YPF manages one more week not to be fed to sex-starved women. Now, go away–Serra just got “Mr. and Mrs. Smith” in the mail and we’re gonna watch it like three times, because Angelina Jolie is one of the few actresses in Hollywood that doesn’t leave us doubled-over and retching.

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December 9, 2005 at 6:00 am (Your Psychic Fiend)

It’s Ask Your Psychic Fiend time again, ladies, germs, and others. I’ve finally convinced YPF that I am going to give her a cinnamon essential oil douche if she doesn’t behave this week, so I’m going to let her answer your questions once again.

For those new to the blog, you post your questions in the comments section of this post, then the little sociopath answers them. Heaven help her if she mouths off this week. Martha emailed me again this past week–seems some of her buddies from Alderson are looking for fresh fish, so YPF knows the penalty for pissing me off.

Here’s the asswaiver:

Note that the “Ask Your Psychic Fiend” feature is for entertainment purposes only. “Ask Your Psychic Fiend” is water-soluble, non-non-toxic, and Haz Mat Category IV. If “Ask Your Psychic Fiend” catches fire, do not attempt to fight it–call 911, scream your death scream, put your head between your legs and kiss your ass goodbye. Do not ask questions which might expose any confidential issues, identities, relationships or other sensitive topics. If you’re easily offended, don’t post a question, because you’re likely to really fucking hate the answer. 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.

I’ll stick this post to the top of the blog, with more recent posts under it. I still have a little ways to go on the project I’m working on, but if I get time I’ll blog a little before I let YPF have the floor.

***Tired of the million tedious checks you do each week, trying to find out if it’s time yet? I set up an announcement-only list for folks who just need to know. Two posts a week, always from me, no spammage allowed.

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