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."

Monday, May 2, 2011

Well, Give Me a Pill and Climb Up Solsbury Hill, It's... DEAR APRON!

Whoa. It came to me in a dream. Or a flash. Or a dreamy flasher told it to me. I don't remember. I don't do drugs, but I behave like someone who does way more than his fair share.

Anyway-- I've been doing this Dear Apron shit all wrong this whole time. I've been posting them on Fridays, typically, or on weekend days. When, really, if we're honest with each other (and I know we are, because it's love) nobody reads this mouthfuck on Fridays or the weekends. And nobody really needs their spirits/skirts lifted by some sardonic, mock advice column on such days either, because it's Friday or it's the weekend.

You need this shit on Mondays. Because, anything to keep us from inserting broken glass into our uvulas on a Monday can only be a positive.



So, with that, I give you my soul. I give you my virginity. I give you a butter-dish made of green-tinted, Depression-era glassware. I give you...


I am a 25-year-old man. I have been in a two-year relationship with the most beautiful woman I have ever met. "Amanda" is 23, and she has just told me she plans on joining the Navy.

I respect her decision and courage to better her life and future career. However, my feelings are deeply hurt. I don't understand how, after all this time, she could change course and put our relationship on the back burner.

Amanda says she wants us to stay together and promises that everything will be all right. I love her with all my heart. Do you think after four years in the Navy our love will be as strong? At our age, is it worth keeping ourselves exclusive to each other? -- IN SHOCK IN CALIFORNIA


I noticed, because I am nothing if not clever and a noticer of things that perhaps other people neglect to notice, that you described your girlfriend as "the most beautiful woman I have ever met." You said not one thing about her personality, the way she treats you, her way with animals and the poor and such, which leads me to believe that this two-year relationship of yours is mostly, if not completely, physical.

If that is indeed the case: be thankful that it has lasted even this long. Most relationships that are purely physical tend to peter out a damn sight quicker than that. Like my relationship with Jessica Alba, for instance. Didn't last anywhere near two years. And I've got the date on the restraining order to prove it.

Now, as for "Amanda's" decision to join the Navy. I can understand your reluctance to accept this little career switch of hers. You have some fears and reservations, and they are well-founded. Because I'll tell you, if she's even half as hot as you say she is, the Lance Corporals are totes going to be gang-banging her in the shower, and they aren't going to waste a whole lot of time doing it, either. That chick is going to be giving vacuum service to everyone with a pair of silver oak leaves on their epaulettes under the table in the officers' mess hall, I can tell you that right now.

Oh, and remember that whole scandal with Captain Owen Honors? "Chicks in the Shower"? Yeah. Join the Navy, Amanda. Have we got a career for you.


I'm a 15-year-old girl who has never been popular with boys. It has always been something that has bothered me. The hardest part is watching my friends date while I have to stay home.

One way I was able to make myself feel better was by telling myself everything would change when high school started. By the end of our first week as freshmen, my friend "Lily" had a new boyfriend and I'm still alone. Her boyfriend actually joked that I should "play for the other team" because I have no chance of getting a guy. Needless to say, my friendship with Lily is over, but her boyfriend's comment is still sticking with me.

Apron, do I really have no chance with guys? Am I overreacting about not having a boyfriend? I feel I should have dated plenty by now. -- WAITING FOR THE FIRST KISS IN JERSEY


Aw, that was so sweet of your mom to write that letter for you. We all know that 15-year-old girls, however homely and sad-sack they are, do not really write letters to advice columnists. They write shitty poetry in Marble composition books, they snort their crazy brothers' Adderall, and they cut.

I don't think you need to start playing "for the other team," dear, because, if you're too ugly for a guy to tongue your asshole, what makes you think any self-respecting lesbian would want to do that to you either? That just doesn't make any sense. You can tell Lily's boyfriend I said that. He's basically a retard.

Have you ever given any consideration to joining the Navy?


My friend says if it weren't for sex, you wouldn't have enough material to write your column. I disagree, and have told him that you could still do your columns.



What do I say? God. A lot, I guess. I don't even know where to begin.

I guess I'll start by saying that I've never been written to by anyone as famous as Tom & Jerry, and I am sufficiently humbled. Which one of you is the dog again?

You write that your "friend" says that, if it weren't for sex, I wouldn't have enough material to write my column. Who is your "friend"? It's funny, but, when I think of Tom & Jerry, I don't think of them as having friends. You know? It's like, you're contained in your own little world, with really just the two of you. It's like-- do Bert and Ernie have "friends"? What about Moe, Larry, and Curly? They can't possibly have "friends", as in people they go antiquing or to Starbucks with, right? They are their own little friend compendium. No outsiders. You're never going to walk past an outdoor café and see John, Garfield, Odie, and... Mark. Right? Like, who the fuck is Mark? It just doesn't make any sense.

And, whoever this friend is who said that about my column, well, s/he's right. It's all about sex. Especially reverse-cowgirl style. God, that's so fucking hot.

1 comment:

  1. I agree with the decision to move Dear Apron to Mondays. What took you so long?


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