Advice Jackers: Body woes, Jokester foes, House-o's, and Kitten Bows

In the previous entry of advice jackers, Mr. Jones detailed you on the lengths in which I go to acquire letters that are en route to Dear Abby and other such advice gurus. I fear that he has taken my whimsical and sarcastic explanation as hard fact. I do not, in fact, train messenger pigeons to sweep down and steal your precious mail. Instead, I use them as weapons in my war against the postal system for folding an envelop of a very rare poster of Tom Selleck in prestine condition. Now our mahogany-enriched office is tainted by a distinct crease in the defining ornament of our workspace. Sometimes pigeons come back for mail, sometimes they don't. If you are Mark Albright and you are currently wondering what happened to this month's Maxim, I am sorry. If you are Grace Kelly and do not know when your Liberty Medical shipment of Wilford Brimley approved insulin will be coming in, please contact Mr. Brimley and ask for an emergency shipment posthaste.

This is what my pigeons look like, only with a lot more feral rage. Also, switchblades.

Anyhow, here are some people who did not ask for our advice, but will most definently be saved by it.

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DEAR ABBY,

I'm now a junior in high school and participate in numerous varsity sports. Even though I am a competitive athlete, I am still insecure about my body. I constantly worry about my size -- that I am too fat or too small. I am never content about my body. How can I build my self-confidence? -- LAS VEGAS TEEN

Dear LAS VEGAS PIG,

Maybe you are insecure about your body weight because everyone else on the team is in better shape than you? You can try to work and strain yourself further in order to catch up and be normal, OR you can get them to start slacking by replacing their water with motor oil. Not only is it not as nourishing as water, but it really adds the pounds, followed by vomiting more pounds up.

Also, they have schools in Vegas? Do they teach you hookers and blow and how to get mauled by a tiger?

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DEAR ABBY,

Last year my brother's daughter married a horrible man I'll call "Willard." Willard is rude, vulgar and makes constant sexual innuendos. The rest of the family have decided to have nothing to do with my brother's family because of it. We're afraid to invite them to gatherings and holidays for fear that Willard will come with the rest.

We have talked about it with my brother and his wife. They feel that because Willard has become part of their family, he should be accepted whether we like him or not. Another problem: My brother thinks Willard is "wonderful" and says nothing when he's out of line. Is it time for us to also cut them off, or do you have any other ideas? -- TORN IN TUCSON

Dear RIP TORN,

Maybe you should give him a second shot. He seems like a fun guy to hang out with. Sexual innuendos are always funny, especially when they are about your family members. Your brother has the right idea by calling him "wonderful." You were always the wet blanket of the family. Your brothers and sisters, they were always out having fun and scraping their knees. Not you. You were the tall awkward girl who fucking loved reading Redwall. Maybe you should hang out with Willard some more and learn how to not be a big ol' douche about everything? No wonder why Mom and Dad always liked your brother the most.

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DEAR ABBY,

Does a house "burn up" or "burn down"? -- HOT TOPIC IN ASHEBORO, N.C.

Dear HOT POCKET

If we are talking about houses, then the answer is simple: the house can only burn down. Anything else would defy some of the greatest physicists of our time, the Talking Heads.

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DEAR ABBY,

I dress my Siamese cat, "Belle," in clothes and pajamas. (Yes, they make apparel for cats.) I also push her around in a stroller. My friends think I'm crazy, but I consider Belle to be my daughter.

One time, a teenager came up to me as I was pushing Belle in her stroller and asked, "Where's the baby?" I told her that Belle was like my baby.

Is it nuts to treat a cat like a child? -- MOM OF A FUR KID IN N.Y.

Dear DELUDED,

You might be an embodiment of everything I hate. You know that people who dress up their pets are humiliating animals across the world, right? (We know they make clothes for cats, parentheticals make you look like a smartass.) And you also know that crazy cat ladies and crazy cat gentlemen use cats to fill a void that is gaping left from a lack of intimacy? Well, you got a bullseye and a hole-in-one by epically failing at two aspects of life at the same time.

Do you consider Belle your daughter because you pushed her small cat body through your vaginal canal? No? Then why is she your daughter? Because she understands you? And you understand her? And you know all she wants is more cat clothes?

Maybe you should try to tone it back a little. Don't use a carriage. That's just creepy. Instead, try a baby coffin.