An Award-Winning Disclaimer

A charming little Magpie whispered this disclaimer into my ear, and I'm happy to regurgitate it into your sweet little mouth:

"Disclaimer: This blog is not responsible for those of you who start to laugh and piss your pants a little. Although this blogger understands the role he has played (in that, if you had not been laughing you may not have pissed yourself), he assumes no liability for damages caused and will not pay your dry cleaning bill.

These views represent the thoughts and opinions of a blogger clearly superior to yourself in every way. If you're in any way offended by any of the content on this blog, it is clearly not the blog for you. Kindly exit the page by clicking on the small 'x' you see at the top right of the screen, and go fuck yourself."

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

Happy Hump-Day, Do the Humpty-Hump with DEAR APRON!

My wife loves to read Dear Abby. I love to fuck with Dear Abby. Here's some of her letters, answered by the acerbic, acrimonious tongue of Dear Apron.

DEAR APRON: A few weeks ago I had surgery, and they found cancer. I have put my affairs in order to ease the burden on my children.

I have written my will, made a list of those to be notified after my death, wrote my obituary and requested in which newspaper I would like it printed. I have also listed all my assets and where they are.

I have only one question: After my death I would like a former high school girlfriend notified, and I have written a letter to be given to her. She has been married to the same man for 40 years, and we have not been in contact.

I always had special feelings for her and would like to tell her so and thank her for the great times we had together. I would not want to create problems in her marriage, but would like to send her a letter of thanks and appreciation.

What do you think? Should I leave well enough alone, or let her know what a special person she was in my life? -- FINAL REQUEST IN SOUTH MILWAUKEE


Well, you certainly are a Type A Personality if I've ever met one. Written your will, your obituary (and selected the newspapers in which you'd like it to appear, no doubt some of the premier rags in Southern Milwaukee) and you've told everyone where they can find your buried treasure. I suppose there are times where it's good to be anal. Unless that's where the cancer is.

Now, about this letter you wish to send post-mortem to the former bimbette with whom you used to fool around in the back-seat of your father's Ford Fairlane-- you're very right to ask my opinion on whether or not you should send it. I mean, this is a pretty big deal. This woman is about to receive a letter professing antiquated, dust-covered love and gratitude... from a dead guy. Now, I don't know how sensitive this woman's husband is to letters of affection from deceased individuals-- different things bother different people. Love letters to his wife from dead guys may be his one big bugaboo. If so, then you could certainly be creating an awkward situation by having St. Peter mail off this missive. I mean, what if, when she gets to Heaven, you and she start doing it up the poop chute, and then her husband gets there too and gets really mad at you-- you know, starts throwing clouds and naked angels at you and shit? Talk about problematic!

Listen, you strike me as someone who likes to get on everbody's nerves. You've already bothered your surgeon, your lawyer, the newspaper editors of the two remaining papers in Milwaukee, your lawyer, and your children. You obviously didn't mention your wife because she divorced your ass a long time ago. Why add this poor woman to the list of people you're annoying through this admittedly unfortunate diagnosis? Remember: the phrase is "Rest in Peace." That goes for all of us, too. Besides, if this bitch reads the newspaper in Milwaukee, she'll know you're dead, so why bother sending the letter? Why don't you include your love message in your obit?

"Dolores: thanks for the good handjobs. At least, I thought they were good. What did I know: we were only in high school? A viewing will be held at McClauskey's Funeral Home at 145 Cresent Street, Jamesville. In lieu of flowers, donations of old love letters and dirty men's underwear may be sent to Dolores."


My boyfriend and I are having a disagreement about flirting with other people. He thinks it's OK to "harmlessly flirt" as long as the person knows you are in a committed relationship. I think that flirting could lead to a misunderstanding that may cause problems in the relationship.

I trust my boyfriend, but I don't trust other women and never have. I asked him to stop doing it, and he has assured me it won't happen again.
Now I'm wondering if I overreacted. Do you think flirting is harmless, or do you see it as a potential problem for the relationship? -- LAURA IN ALABAMA


Oh my God-- you wrote Laura, not "Laura!" Jesus fucking Christ, how many times do I have to tell you illiterate assholes from the South: NO REAL NAMES! No EVERYBODY reading this will know that Laura from Alabama is a spineless pussy whose boyfriend totally rails other chicks right under her fucking nose! Aw, the shame of it all, Laura. The shame. Next time, try thinking of a clever pseudo, like "Serena" or something.

Anyway, do I think flirting is harmless? Well, only if you're dying of cancer.

DEAR APRON: I loaned a treasured book to my close friend "Serena." When her younger sister moved out of state four months later, Serena told me the book had been accidentally packed up with the girl's things. She promised to buy me a new copy, but didn't.

It has now been three years, and my $20 book still has not been replaced. One day I noticed it on Serena's bookshelf. I don't want to demand she give it back for fear of seeming petty, but I really loved the book and want it back. How do I handle this? -- SERIOUS READER IN KANSAS


Here's what you do: tell "Serena" that you're dying of cancer and that the one thing you want to do before you croak is read that book again. You'll get it back in the mail guaranteed in three days or less.

If that is too immoral for you to handle: steal it. And, when "Serena" tries to stop you, pull the whole goddamn book shelf down on top of her and crush her like the fucking Wicked Witch of the East.

By the way, adjusted for three years of inflation, that $20.00 book of yours is now worth roughly $20.08. Take THAT, "Serena!"

P.S.- If this is some stupid fucking chick lit or anything by Robert K. Tanenbaum, I'm going to be very disappointed.


  1. You KNOW the book was "The Secret."

  2. The book was probably The Notebook or something equally as sappy.

  3. it was probably some piece of shit by Jodi Piccoult

  4. Flirting is NEVER harmless, if done properly. ;)

    I love Dear Apron. LOVE.


Got something to say? Rock on with your badass apron!