Mailbag Monday

In which your humble narrator answers some mail.

Dear Rotten Baby,
Can I yell at my baby when he's bad?
                               -Disciplinary Donna in Denver
Dear 3D,
What the hell is wrong with you? You can't yell at your baby as a punishment. That will freak your baby out and he'll grow up to be like Gilbert Gottfried. You may only yell at your baby as a part of happy-fun-screamy-time (HFST). I have HFST with Child #2 once or twice a day. She likes to yell. I like to yell. She thinks it's hysterical when I try to match her pitch. I'm thinking that maybe we could join that Finnish Shouting Choir as a fun Daddy-daughter type activity. Remember 3D, yelling should be an act of exuberance, not discipline.

Dear Rotten Baby,
What's up with Twilight? Am I missing something or is it really just vampornomance for current and former adolescent girls?
                                -Abe von Holsing
Abe,
You hit that nail on the head, there buddy. I'm not going to say anything else because I live in mortal terror of several former adolescent girls that may be reading this letter. In lieu of commentary on the Twi-nomenon, I offer this link* to the stupidest Twi-products that Twi-commerce has made Twi-vailable to the Twi-masses. I'll never eat a Pringle again.

Dear Rotten Baby,
I am having recurring, and frequently erotic, dreams about Fox News Sunday's Chris Wallace. While I find him comically inept as a "journalist" he keeps haunting my slumber. Is there anything I can do to stop finding him attractive?
                               -Foxy Lady
Foxy,
I suggest you get yourself booked as a guest on his show. That should clear everything up. But for the love of God, don't look into Brit Hume's eyes. He'll eat your soul (while emasculating Juan Williams).

That wraps up this edition of 'Mailbag Monday," boys and girls. To have your queries, imaginary or otherwise answered, send an email to:
rotten.baby.blog (at) gmail (dot) com.


*Mad props, yo, to Captain Cartwheel and her dumb brother, Shadoweyes who may send me email mash notes about how much he misses me, but still hasn't f*****g linked to me. You get lunch when I get a link, sucker.