In which your humble narrator remembers to answer the queries in the mailbag.
Dear Rotten Baby,
I live near the St. Croix River and there's this weird smell around my house lately. Sort of like charred Gouda? What's up with that?
-Cheesily Confused
Dear C.C.,
The offending odor wafting over the frozen St. Croix is the state of Wisconsin going up in flames. Since "America's Dairyland" contains the highest concentration of cultured dairy products in the nation, you're experiencing some off-gassing from the labor struggles of our neighbors to the east.
You see, C.C., in the past election everyone decided that they were pissed off because a historic financial collapse 15 years in the making wasn't solved in 18 months. Therefore the peoples were filled with anger and decided pretty much to vote against incumbents all over the place to "send a message." That message was "I is super angry! Also dumb! Mostly I just want someone to validate my feelings because I am a whiny, petulant crybaby electorate." And now everything is perfect forever. Hooray!
Dear Rotten Baby,
Will the stupid winter never end? Seriously? 74.9 inches of snow so far this winter. I'm tired of looking at it, driving in it and shoveling it.
-Tired of The Snow
Deat TOTS,
Your imitation of a repining weasel leaves me breathless. Of course winter will end. What apparently won't end is your constant litany of complaint about things over which you can exert no influence what-so-ever. Please, learn a lesson from the local Scandihoovians and bear this burden stoically for a change.
Dear Rotten Baby,
While it's clear to everyone that you make up letters to answer in this feature, you seem especially vituperative lately. Does setting up imbecilic straw men to pummel make you feel like some sort of big man?
-Concerned Reader
Dear C.R.
Yes.
Showing posts with label mail. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mail. Show all posts
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Mailbag Monday is Late
In which your humble narrator answers the mail.
Dear Rotten Baby,
How do I convince my mother-in-law that she is totally capable of taking care of our wonderful children (ages 1 1/2 and 3 1/2) for just 48 hours so that my estranged husband and I can go to the Florida Keys for an all expense paid trip?
Needing some alone time together
Dear NSATT,
First of all: where did you get an all-expense paid trip to the Keys? I want an all expense-paid trip. I would settle for an all-expense-paid trip to Dubuque, Iowa and be very, very happy with it. Actually, you know what? I'd settle for being able to go to the bathroom without an accompanying two-year-old and the inevitable discussion of whether I'm peeing or pooping in the potty.
But I digress. When I was just a wee little boy, before I became an internet sensation known to, literally, tens of people, my Grandma said to me the following: "If you want somebody to do something for you, it works best to let them think that it's their decision. If you can't make them decide to do what you want, then you put the screws to 'em and nail their ass to the wall."
As you may have guessed, my grandma was Lyndon Baines Johnson.
For Attempt #1, "Vanity + Guilt," you try to get her to decide to do it herself. This is best accomplished by making a dual appeal to both her vanity and her guilt. Like this: "Oh mother-in-law (MIL) you're the only one I trust to care for my precious children* and... and (fake cry here) I'm just not sure that your child (your spouse, NSATT) is willing to tell you HOW MUCH S/HE NEEDS THIS." See? Vanity + Guilt
If this fails, then you move on to Attempt #2, "Ass to Wall."
"Look, MIL. Do this for me... or the next time we're at your house for dinner I'm telling the kids that you're serving Muppet."
*Feel free to sell your own Mom down the river here if you think it'll help... after all we're talking about a vacation away from the children, any reasonable court would sanction anything up to involuntary manslaughter under these circumstances.
Dear Rotten Baby,
How do I convince my mother-in-law that she is totally capable of taking care of our wonderful children (ages 1 1/2 and 3 1/2) for just 48 hours so that my estranged husband and I can go to the Florida Keys for an all expense paid trip?
Needing some alone time together
Dear NSATT,
First of all: where did you get an all-expense paid trip to the Keys? I want an all expense-paid trip. I would settle for an all-expense-paid trip to Dubuque, Iowa and be very, very happy with it. Actually, you know what? I'd settle for being able to go to the bathroom without an accompanying two-year-old and the inevitable discussion of whether I'm peeing or pooping in the potty.
But I digress. When I was just a wee little boy, before I became an internet sensation known to, literally, tens of people, my Grandma said to me the following: "If you want somebody to do something for you, it works best to let them think that it's their decision. If you can't make them decide to do what you want, then you put the screws to 'em and nail their ass to the wall."
As you may have guessed, my grandma was Lyndon Baines Johnson.
For Attempt #1, "Vanity + Guilt," you try to get her to decide to do it herself. This is best accomplished by making a dual appeal to both her vanity and her guilt. Like this: "Oh mother-in-law (MIL) you're the only one I trust to care for my precious children* and... and (fake cry here) I'm just not sure that your child (your spouse, NSATT) is willing to tell you HOW MUCH S/HE NEEDS THIS." See? Vanity + Guilt
If this fails, then you move on to Attempt #2, "Ass to Wall."
"Look, MIL. Do this for me... or the next time we're at your house for dinner I'm telling the kids that you're serving Muppet."
*Feel free to sell your own Mom down the river here if you think it'll help... after all we're talking about a vacation away from the children, any reasonable court would sanction anything up to involuntary manslaughter under these circumstances.
Monday, January 4, 2010
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.
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.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Mailbag Monday (on Tuesday)
In which your humble narrator answers the missives of his adoring public.
Dear Rotten Baby,
Does a diet lacking animal products make one stupid?
-Raging Ronda in Ridgecrest
Dear Ronda,
First of all, I think someone who can't spell "Rhonda" with the traditional "h" has little room to criticize other people's dietary choices. Are you ashamed of your Welsh heritage, Ronda? But seriously, a diet lacking animal products doesn't correlate with stupidity. My diet is completely free of animal products. Other people may be willing to eat cookies made by gophers, but I'm not.
Teacher,
i am an (imaginary) sad-sack undergraduate with innumerable vague personal problems including, but not limited, to the deaths of my seven grandmothers this semester. i haven't turned in my final project that was du last week. Also i have skipped, like a lot, almost a third of my classes. My question 2 u is: shouldn't i be able to postpone taking the final? i'm, like, not prepared.
-Student terribly upset, probably in denial
Dear STUPID,
You have got to be freaking kidding me. I do not have either the time or the inclination to deal with your self-centered bullshit during the last week of classes. The time to be discussing how you can pass my class was last month. Where were you while I sat in my windowless office whilst tumbleweeds rolled past my door during my many office hours this semester? Also, perhaps if you're going to write an email trying to solicit pity you should 1. suck up a little, 2. capitalize the word "I." As for delaying your final: I'm, like, not prepared to do that.
Dear Rotten Baby,
Did you know that there were 1,808 baby girls born in the United States last year named "Brooklyn?" What's up with that?
-Slightly culpable bystander
SCB,
What's up indeed. My guess is that it's a lot of obnoxious hipster parents living in the mid-west and the west coast were trying be cool when they named their babies. It shouldn't surprise you that "Matilda"* is increasing exponentially in popularity as well. What's happening is this: having a child has become yet another way for people to "express" themselves and broadcast their social (and often economic) value to the rest of the world. Let's hope that many of those darling little Brooklyns grow up to be right-wing talk radio hosts, NASCAR enthusiasts or Joe Lieberman.
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.
*Really?
Dear Rotten Baby,
Does a diet lacking animal products make one stupid?
-Raging Ronda in Ridgecrest
Dear Ronda,
First of all, I think someone who can't spell "Rhonda" with the traditional "h" has little room to criticize other people's dietary choices. Are you ashamed of your Welsh heritage, Ronda? But seriously, a diet lacking animal products doesn't correlate with stupidity. My diet is completely free of animal products. Other people may be willing to eat cookies made by gophers, but I'm not.
Teacher,
i am an (imaginary) sad-sack undergraduate with innumerable vague personal problems including, but not limited, to the deaths of my seven grandmothers this semester. i haven't turned in my final project that was du last week. Also i have skipped,
-Student terribly upset, probably in denial
Dear STUPID,
You have got to be freaking kidding me. I do not have either the time or the inclination to deal with your self-centered bullshit during the last week of classes. The time to be discussing how you can pass my class was last month. Where were you while I sat in my windowless office whilst tumbleweeds rolled past my door during my many office hours this semester? Also, perhaps if you're going to write an email trying to solicit pity you should 1. suck up a little, 2. capitalize the word "I." As for delaying your final: I'm, like, not prepared to do that.
Dear Rotten Baby,
Did you know that there were 1,808 baby girls born in the United States last year named "Brooklyn?" What's up with that?
-Slightly culpable bystander
SCB,
What's up indeed. My guess is that it's a lot of obnoxious hipster parents living in the mid-west and the west coast were trying be cool when they named their babies. It shouldn't surprise you that "Matilda"* is increasing exponentially in popularity as well. What's happening is this: having a child has become yet another way for people to "express" themselves and broadcast their social (and often economic) value to the rest of the world. Let's hope that many of those darling little Brooklyns grow up to be right-wing talk radio hosts, NASCAR enthusiasts or Joe Lieberman.
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.
*Really?
Monday, November 23, 2009
Mailbag Monday
In which your humble narrator responds to life's most pressing conundrums, even if they are invented.
Here at Rotten Baby Omnicorp Media-Mania, Inc., LLC, Ph.D., DDS, we view our service to all three of our readers as a sacred trust, and as such we have set aside today to answer some of the pressing questions that have been flooding our (imaginary) inbox. Today, gentle readers, we will answer the mail.
Dear Rotten Baby,
I am new parent and I am sick to death of all of the advice that complete strangers give me regarding my infant (human) child. I have read all of the popular child rearing books and have become convinced that I had better just muddle through as best I can and figure things out on my own. Yet, old ladies constantly stop me in the grocery store and give me conflicting, weird advice about childcare while admonishing me for everything that I am supposedly doing wrong. My question is, may I hit them with a brick?
-Peeved Parent in Peoria
Dear Triple P,
No you may not hit them with bricks. That is an easily adjudicated case of assault. Since this happens in the grocery store, I suggest a 3-5 lb. bag of citrus fruit. It'll hurt like hell and leave no incriminating marks or bruises. I prefer Valencia Oranges, but you may wish to try several varieties of citrus fruits and make your own decision.
Dear Rotten Baby,
Long time reader, first time (imaginary) email writer. I am hosting Thanksgiving for my family on Thursday. This is the first year that my mother has not been hostess and I am nervous about living up to her standards. Any tips?
-Nervous Hostess in Vancouver
Dear Nervess,
I hope to hell that you're in Vancouver in Washington State and not in British Columbia. Otherwise you are up embarrassment creek without a paddle of everlasting shame. You see, Nervess, The Canadians get their thank on in October. So if you're a Canadian, that ship has already sailed. If you're not Canadian and you want to keep your overbearing mother in her place, prepare nothing but side dishes and then ask her where the hell the turkey is when she arrives. Persevere in this little fib all evening, heaping subtle guilt on her at every turn. She'll be too flabbergasted to judge you.
Dear Rotten Baby,
I get the distinct impression that you're writing these letters to yourself because you can't think of anything else to write about today.
-Suspicious Salvatore in San Antonio
Dear Sal,
You are so dumb it makes my teeth hurt. If there was a Church of Stupid, you would be the Pope. We're writing these letters because people love advice columns and we are convinced that this will send our site traffic soaring to add the demographically crucial Filipinio, trangendered, chicken-farming, Buddhist, fourth reader.
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.
Here at Rotten Baby Omnicorp Media-Mania, Inc., LLC, Ph.D., DDS, we view our service to all three of our readers as a sacred trust, and as such we have set aside today to answer some of the pressing questions that have been flooding our (imaginary) inbox. Today, gentle readers, we will answer the mail.
Dear Rotten Baby,
I am new parent and I am sick to death of all of the advice that complete strangers give me regarding my infant (human) child. I have read all of the popular child rearing books and have become convinced that I had better just muddle through as best I can and figure things out on my own. Yet, old ladies constantly stop me in the grocery store and give me conflicting, weird advice about childcare while admonishing me for everything that I am supposedly doing wrong. My question is, may I hit them with a brick?
-Peeved Parent in Peoria
Dear Triple P,
No you may not hit them with bricks. That is an easily adjudicated case of assault. Since this happens in the grocery store, I suggest a 3-5 lb. bag of citrus fruit. It'll hurt like hell and leave no incriminating marks or bruises. I prefer Valencia Oranges, but you may wish to try several varieties of citrus fruits and make your own decision.
Dear Rotten Baby,
Long time reader, first time (imaginary) email writer. I am hosting Thanksgiving for my family on Thursday. This is the first year that my mother has not been hostess and I am nervous about living up to her standards. Any tips?
-Nervous Hostess in Vancouver
Dear Nervess,
I hope to hell that you're in Vancouver in Washington State and not in British Columbia. Otherwise you are up embarrassment creek without a paddle of everlasting shame. You see, Nervess, The Canadians get their thank on in October. So if you're a Canadian, that ship has already sailed. If you're not Canadian and you want to keep your overbearing mother in her place, prepare nothing but side dishes and then ask her where the hell the turkey is when she arrives. Persevere in this little fib all evening, heaping subtle guilt on her at every turn. She'll be too flabbergasted to judge you.
Dear Rotten Baby,
I get the distinct impression that you're writing these letters to yourself because you can't think of anything else to write about today.
-Suspicious Salvatore in San Antonio
Dear Sal,
You are so dumb it makes my teeth hurt. If there was a Church of Stupid, you would be the Pope. We're writing these letters because people love advice columns and we are convinced that this will send our site traffic soaring to add the demographically crucial Filipinio, trangendered, chicken-farming, Buddhist, fourth reader.
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.
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