Sunday, December 27, 2009

A Very Gothic YesAndy. So Gothic, it is sunshiny.

Yes, you are correct. It has been a very long time since I took a few precious moments out of my incredibly busy days and nights to tell you how to think and feel.
But I am even more correct when it comes to everything in the world, ever. Period. You are welcome.
Did you miss me?
Come on, do children miss the taste of their first cigarette? Do puppies miss the jello shots you leave around the house like Easter Eggs? Does Han Solo miss the feeling in his legs when encased in carbonite?
I know you know what I mean, and by knowing what you know, I am helping you know yourself. Which I already know, so since knowing is half the battle according to Hasbro, I will spare you the facts regarding my long term absence. Just know this: I didn't stop thinking about you, nor will I ever. In these dark times leading up to the end of days (not a reference to the dreadful Arnold Schwarzenegger movie) I feel all those disturbances in the force and every other nerd reference you people cling on to like eskimo babies on their mother's backs when running from the polar bears of reality.
And since I am making an effort to cut down on the babble and endless tangents I encourage you with, I will be brief.
Welcome to the new YesAndy! For a new and glorious tomorrow. I might be able to tell your future, but I want to help you with your now. Come with me on a journey that will never end with a magic ring dropped into a volcano. Imagine me a king, and I have returned with all my hobbit friends and a troll or something and an attractive elf and I am making the sweetest kind of love to Steven Tyler's daughter.
Where was I going? Oh yes. No more metaphors, and Something about The Return of The King.
We are taking care of Business here at YesAndy HQ. You are glad I am back, and so are you. Dig this hot topic item form a girl who thinks she is a vampire. She calls herself “Black Velvet”. Read on, Dearest angels of music. We are taking a pony ride at the carnival of souls and winning a big stuffed bear that was made in the China of our hearts.

Shadow warrior Princess writes:

Dear YesAndy,
I am a 5th level Mage in the LARP group I am co-founder of. I don't really need your advice, since I can cast bones to reveal my fortune. I want to lay it out there that I am coming to you out of a sense of whimsy, as opposed to a need. I am curious what you would say about people like me.
Hence, my question: How do you keep a secret, when the secret is already known by all and all that needs to be done is to open their night eyes to see the day? Know that my soul is turning 397 years old on January 21st.

Blessed Be,
'Black Velvet'

Dear Black Velvet,
Hell if I should know what you are blathering on about. Sometimes I just think people say words they like and cross their fingers that they might form a sentence. I labeled your file as a 'special need case' because I wanted to hit it right from the get go for my new style of advice-giving. You have more layers to talk about than an over protective Mother puts on a kid going out to play catch with a bowling ball made of knives.
But some things remain true with YesAndy. I hate metaphors.
Black velvet, I am going to start referring to you as Twilight Bullshit Johnson. It just rolls off the tongue better than that over played karaoke song by the woman who thinks she sounds like Stevie Nicks. I know you know who Stevie Nicks is because she is the goddess of all the Cemetery Children of the Night.
There was once a time not too long ago that YesAndy would have pandered to your Voodoo kit stocking stuffer religion. Sadly, that train has sailed away on a flight to 'Shut Up, you stupid Kid-Ville' Population: Only You.
You are a Mage. In a LARP group. Your bravery knows no bounds. In fact, I don't even think you used a pseudonym. Your name is really Black Velvet, isn't it? You probably changed it legally as soon as you turned 18 and the tattoo ink was still wet from the Depeche Mode lyric you got on your hip.
I don't mean to be a negative nelly, You Twilight cliché. This is advice that comes from the heart. And while your heart pumps the blood of the undead, I still can help you. And I will. Here are five things you can dwell on as you sip exotic Tazo tea in a coffeeshop that is probably a Starbucks out of the sheer irony of it all.

ONE- Your riddle of the spinx type question made little sense to anyone, including you. I can hear you gently weeping in the corner of a darkened club, hoping against all hope that someone named Victor will touch your cheek and tell you to come with him on a quest to find meaning in the darkness and to listen to albums in his lair.
I hope Victor finds you soon, because your shelf life is coming to an end, Nosferatu.
Secrets are things that you keep to yourself. Some might say that Secrets are no fun, but those are the ones who the secret is about, and those pants DO make them look fat, and everyone IS looking at them.
As for opening their 'Night eyes' to see the day or whatever BS you cooked up in your freebasing spoon makes me want to watch re-runs of Friends and give According to Jim a try. Go to a mall and buy some pastel colored clothes, you 5th level mess of a human.

TWO- Have I been accurate so far? Yes. I have been. I have helped millions of people reach their potential so far, and your little witless banter email to me will not stop the party bus of YesAndy.
I want you to look into a mirror, assuming you have a reflection, and say that you forgive Jake for kissing Becky at the Homecoming dance. He wasn't into you anyway. Football players are jerks and you are a beautiful person who needs to listen to pop music for a bit. Maybe you can watch some of that Disney Anime about a princess frog. I hear that Claires boutique is hiring in all locations, so a job might lift your spirits. I am not sure what the going rate is for Mage Wizards. Maybe claires could pay you in Doubloons or Dragon scales so you can buy a new dream journal.

THREE- How many bone casting vampire people does it take to screw in a lightbulb? The answer is dripping in the blood of a gargoyle whoo ha nonesense nonsense zippity doo look at me I wear black and am an embarrassment to my family!
Come on. Bone casting? I eat bone casting nerds for breakfast. And I drink tarot cards mixed with SHUT UP BLACK VELVET, you have no idea you you are dealing with! Yarr! Oh, but one thing did make sense: You mentioned the word Whimsy. Coming from you, that word is like Satan herself singing I'm a little teapot at an afterschool latchkey program for bunnies. Did it take all your courage to even type the word? Whimsy! It means fun and joy and lighthearted happytimes! Sometimes I don't know if I want to hug you or stab you in the head with one of those decorative swords they sell at Spencers. In the end, I will choose both, but not in the order you are thinking.

FOUR- I want to join your Live Action Role Playing group. Please send me the info I need to start doing this. It sounds like a blast. I'm actually being serious. I have always wanted to do that. I think I would be a wood elf or a battle master troll slayer. Maybe an apothecary who travels around the battlefield with spells and remedies for fallen heroes. My name would be “Thunder- Realm- Vixen- Pleaser- Thermite- Bomb- Tackeon- Pulse- Dave Matthews Band Is Kind Of Ok- Picard. Esquire the Kind and Just.”

Do you wear jerseys? I like the fit of Hockey Jerseys. Just saying. I guess I could be the only one...Don't want to ruffle feathers or horns or whatever you people wear. Sorry. 'You people' might be considered derogatory. I am a team player. Holla.

FIVE- I saved my favorite for last. Thank you, Black Velvet for telling me the age of your soul.
It's a good thing you did, otherwise I would have held back a little too much and you would have learned nothing. Your soul has really seen a lot of very important things. Old souls are usually claimed by girls who secretly find meaning in Britany Spears songs from the late 90's. Sometimes it is an excuse to justify having an affair with a married professor. Someone with Tenure who has a lot to lose if it gets out that they are shagging one of their students. Sadly, I cannot take any soul seriously if it is under 400 years old. And though your soul birthday is coming up in less than a month, I am still going to have to throw up in my mouth a bit because you felt the need to even write that moronic phrase.
Your soul is turning 397. I want to punch a baby right now because you said that.
“I am 16, and my boyfriend is 24. it's ok because I have an old soul. He gets me...”
No. Your skeezy statutory rapist boyfriend can't get girls his own age. Or he buys you root beer Schnapps and cigarettes. He doesn't “get you” Ugh. Gross. He probably wears gold chains and has a silly caterpillar fuzz mustache that he thinks makes him look hardcore.
Ladies, if you say you have an 'Old Soul' I hope you get rabies and inadequate medical attention. The same goes for boys.

So Black Velvet... I can honestly say that I hate you. But amidst all my distaste for 'You People' I know that there are things that made your ears perk up like a German shepherd. If anyone understand you, it is me. And with the wisdom you have now, you can start living the life of a daywalker.
Vampires don't sparkle, and Mormons don't write about relationships with the undead well. Ergo, please stop reading the twilight series and sending women back 50 years.
And never ever ever sing Black Velvet at a Karaoke Bar. It's like Singing Love Shack anytime ever or explaining how the internet works to an Amish clergyman. It does nothing for your sex life.
That's what your question was about, right? Something about sex? I actually just skimmed over it. I really hate Black Velvet at Karaoke.

Sparkling in the sun,

Sunday, April 19, 2009

Lights out. Uh Huh. Flash Flash Flash.

My dearest Petticoat Junctions,

With times being what they are, as with most threats of change, YesAndy tends to get a little nostalgic. The days of yore are knocking at my brain-door and I am heading the cavalry off at the pass.
Since I have never known what that means exactly, I am doing something I have never done: I am opening up the YesAndy Vault and giving you a flashback.
This post is retro. And by retro, I mean bursting with pop culture references that even my most Lowry salt seasoned readers might not be able to wrap their brain pan around. But even the simple minded will appreciate the heaviness of what I am about to lay before you.
The YesAndy timestream is a wonder to behold. It's almost as if I shall live forever and ever. And you are welcome in advance, because as long as you will have me- I am yours. And this advice I give will always be your Secret Garden. Of advice. Yes. I went there.
Take my very strong and manly hand, as we travel back to the year 1989.

Dear YesAndy,

I have a problem, and my friend told me that you help people who ask you stuff.
See, there is this girl in my Anatomy and Physiology class that is beautiful. I mean like Rene Russo beautiful (She was in Lethal Weapon). I want to ask her to go see a movie. But how do I do this? She is way too rad and cool to even talk to. I am in college, and not a 13 year old kid. I just felt I should tell you that for some reason.

Thank you for any help you can give.

Debbie Gibson fan

Dear Debbie Gibson Fan,

Hell if I know, but seriously, I do know. Don't have a cow, Man. If I were the most bodacious dude in the world, which I am, I would tell you that you came to the most totally right place. Your friend did you a favor by referring you to me. I am going to help you like Scorpion helped the Berlin Wall crumble into a million pieces the other day. But before I start, I need to tell you that my writing style is like a mixture of Batman; Indiana Jones and Rain Man mixed into one. It may blow your mind. I expect to be a bigger deal than I am now pretty soon. I heard that Dear Abbey is retiring or something, so you are getting in on the ground floor of something so bodacious that your head might blow up like that earthquake that happened during the World Series. Serious, Dude, If I was in Tienanmen Square, I could stop those tanks with my mind and all of those Communists would be enjoying Democracy.

I have this deal where I give people five bullet points of something I call 'RadThought' I think that it will be what I am remembered for in the future. Kind of like how Bobby Brown will be the most important artist ever, Yours truly will be huge.
Here are your five RadThoughts:

1) Dude, chicks are like the best thing ever. You need to know that from the start, or you will end up lame. Do you want to be with some lady like Roseanne or someone like Cindy Crawford? If you end up settling for someone who you are comfortable talking to, you will be like Salman Rushdie & your complacency will resemble the death order from Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini because you wrote a book called 'Satanic Verses' I usually don't speak in metaphor, Debbie Gibson, nor am I this topical. Please know that I am very smart. I also own a cellular telephone.
So confidence is the game you should play. So put down your pogs, saunter up to the looking glass and tell yourself that you have a date with Destiny. And her name is that chick in your Anatomy class.

2)I just watched an episode of The Cosby Show before I started replying to your note. I swear, that show will last forever unless they add some little kid to the mix because Rudy is getting older. Your problem reminds me of something Bill Cosby said to Theo. It was about asking a girl out: " Theo, I like Jazz so much it makes me want to punch your mother in the head"
You need to be punched in the head, Debbie. Not in the literal sense, but in the Bill Cosby sense. Dr. huxtable would never hit the sweet hotness that is his Lawyer wife. But he brings up a good point: Jazz is pretty good sometimes.

3) When you walk up to her, casually mention that your friends think you are exactly like John Cusack from 'Say Anything' Girls like that. Also, say loudly when her back is turned (in a high pitched voice, so she thinks it is a girl talking and not you) 'Like, OhMyGod, is that like John Cusack? Because that guy Debbie Gibson really looks like Lloyd Dobler' She will turn around and see that the voice was right, and immediately want to make out and go to second base right on the lab table.

4)She has seen the awesome in your eyes, Debbie. Now you need to start talking. Memorize the following, and you can't go wrong:
'Hey there. My name is Debbie Gibson. My friends call me "Indy".
I was noticing that you like taking notes in class. Me too. That's cool.
I find myself distracted during class because of all the thoughts I have for the future. So instead of writing down notes, I end up making lists of all the cities I want to visit; names I want to call my many children that I have with the woman I will spend the rest of my life with; recipes for delicious desserts I invent and want to make for that certain someone special; and open letters to executives at McDonalds telling them that they have to stop using Styrofoam to package up their mc DLT's. I started recycling years ago. before it was trendy. I was wondering if you like music? I do. I'm listening to these popular artist from the year 1989:
* Duran Duran
* Paul McCartney
* Phil Collins
* Prince
* Madonna
* Erasure
* The Bangles
* Madonna
* New Kids On The Block
* Cher
* R.E.M
* Depeche Mode
* Paula Abdul
* Garth Brooks
* Elvis Costello

I could make you a mix tape if you want. Anyway. You are very beautiful. I like it.
Want to go to the mall and catch a movie? We can eat at the food court. And by 'Food Court' I of course mean Applebees. They just put one in. It's cool. you can order whatever you want. My dad owns a dealership. Toyotas mostly. Sometimes used Saab's.
So. What do you think?'
And then she will scream 'I think Hell yeah! I could learn to love you! Lets go out on a date! Radical!'

5) This girl sounds pretty amazing, Debbie. When she says yes to going out with you, you have to bring your A-game. Ladies like this need to be treated like Morgan Fairchild. Not to say you need to buy her diamonds, but I think it would be a good idea to have a friendship bracelet handy. Those are like marking your territory without peeing on anything. Once another guy sees that a girl has one of those, it might as well be a wedding band. I suggest that you go with a nice neon green or orange. Something that matches her fanny pack is ideal.
As for the movie you should watch, you will be going to see BATMAN. It has Michael Keaton playing the Man himself. And Jack Nicholson is the Joker. You can't go wrong.
If Batman is sold out, you might want to try and see UHF. Wierd Al is due for a huge movie career. And Women like to laugh.
If all else fails, Rent a video and make for damn sure it is Steel Magnolias. I assure you that you will thank me later. But that is a last resort. Keep Steel Mags as your third date activity. Trust me. Home run. That means touching things they tell you not to touch until
Soon, Debbie Gibson, you will be married and have four babies. You will name them Leonardo, Donatello, Michelangelo and Shredder.

I am glad I wrote back to you. I rarely write to people I don't know, but you were reffered by a trusted friend who knows the value of limitless wisdom.
Can you imagine what wisdom I will dish out in like 20 years? That will be awesome, because it will be 2009 and we will have flying cars. And I am sure that the economy will be tubular. Cowabunga, Dudes. Cowabunga. I just hope that in the future there is some medium I can use to get the word out to all those in need of help. Maybe when they make computers less than $5,000 and put them in your head. The future is going to be so bad. Michael Jackson style.
I gotta take off, Debbie. There is a showing of Honey, I shrunk the Kids at the Southtown Theatre. I swear, this is the summer of Rick Moranis. Dude is hilarious.
Keep being radical.
No. that is awkward. Keep thrashin. No...
Stay Rad.
Stay Awesome.
Yep. That's the stuff.

Stay Awesome, Debbie Gibson

Your new friend who will just get better with age,

Please leave comments if you would like me to dive into the vault again.
And remember to leave a question of your own at
Put 'Dear YesAndy' in the subject line.

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Imaginary? This stuff is REAL!

Fair and lovelies,
Today, I am channeling Walt Whitman in the fact that I am singing The Body Electric.
And you will too, after this rousing and very informative edition of YesAndy! Advice and BBQ Recipes. The days are getting longer, and the late afternoon sun has reached my western facing wall. Summer is coming, and with it, the ladies get off the busses from ‘Hot Camp’ and they start walking around in towels and capes.
Let that image soak in for a moment.

So since I am trying harder to enjoy life and Carpe Diem, as it were, I will be shortening my opening statements in an attempt to streamline your advice and knowledge system.
Today’s gem comes from a very inquisitive bird who we will call ‘Dedicated’
I say inquisitive, because I noticed that they asked not one, but four questions. Usually, the amazement I allow you to absorb is limited to ONE little ditty.
Again, I sing the body electric.
You know what that means.
It means I am trying to be nicer in my responses no matter how ridiculous the query. People may tell you that there is no dumb question.
I completely disagree.
For example:

Dear YesAndy,
This is in regard to your post to the little thirteen year-old.

If Santa has an imaginary penis...

Do all of the beloved characters from my childhood like the Easter bunny and the Tooth Fairy not have genitals? And if so, how do these characters go to the bathroom? Because you see them eating... so don’t they have to go to the bathroom? Or are they like the nuaghty ghost from ghost busters and it just falls out of them?


Dedicated Friend and Reader

Dear Dedicated,
What is it with everyone wanting to talk about thirteen year olds? Am I finally sponsored by a huge corporation? And is that company Nickelodeon? Do I have a Dora the Explorer icon on the top of the page? Let it go, people.
Dedicated, if I were you (which I am. YesAndy is all people and no one at the same time. A ghostly memory of what was and a solid shadow of what will be. Boom. Your mind is blown.) I would be asking myself not four questions, but only one: ‘Why must I insist on trying to be clever with the father of wit?’
Of course, the Father in question is YesAndy, and ‘wit’ is my love baby that I invented or something.
You see, Dedicated, It has come to my attention that there is a religion being formed in a moderately sized mid-western city that ends in ‘apolis’ where I am the Alpha and the Omega. My words are scripture, and this text you are reading, a sort of bible. So far, the only congregant in the Church of YesAndy is a guy who fancies himself to be a welder. But I am sure, that with time, more sheep will be added to the flock and this advice stop on the train tracks to prosperity will become a fully functional battle station.
But like I always say, ‘I think metaphors are for the weak. Tell it like it is’
Just like Billy The Kid, Dedicated, I am not a God. Though I am descended from the Gods of the North, I don’t like to bring it up because that leads to me doing party tricks (which I dislike).
My only advice to Brother welder-man is to be nice to his roommates all the time. And do whatever they ask politely of you.
But my advice to you, Dedicated comes in five parts to your four questions.

1) If Santa has an imaginary penis...
Do all of the beloved characters from my childhood like the Easter bunny and the Tooth Fairy not have genitals?
-That is what you asked me. I wanted you to re-read it. Maybe say it outloud. In front of a mirror. Now pretend that you are interviewing for a job that will be your career for the rest of your life. Your prospective employer asks you if you have any questions, and you ask that. Your children need new clothes for school, and your mortgage isn’t going to pay itself.
If I were your prospective employer (which I am) I would punch you in the face. And then I would hire the next person with the least experience. Just to piss you off.
And yes, they all have genitals. How else would they have families? Jesus, Dedicated, did you really need me for that?

2) And if so, how do these characters go to the bathroom?
-There’s another one of those things you asked. You knew deep down that they all went to the bathroom. They go like you or I would, but I wonder if you even know how to do that. Perhaps the underlying problem is your lack of toilet training. I think that since you are asking the questions of a four-year-old boy, which is what you are. I beg you to ask your supervisors to throw some cheerios into the toilet and when the desire arises, whip it out and try to sink those heart healthy cereal bits. That is how some people learned to not pee in corners or in their own pants. I am of course, not referring to myself. I always knew how to not pee my pants. The thought of being trained in anything is insulting. YesAndy knows. And he has always known. Everything.

3) Because you see them eating... so don’t they have to go to the bathroom?
- Do you see them eating? Or do you feel that they should eat? Is the act of eating a comfort to you? If they do not eat, do you fear they might not be real? Or if they do eat, will they become less imaginary? Since they do have genitals, as I have told you, do you think that asking so many questions is just about the most annoying thing ever? Santa has twig & berries. He is married. To Mrs. Santa. She likes watching adult movies while they go at it for hours and hours. Don’t believe me? Read the bible. It’s all referenced in there. In that one chapter where they talk about how kids should shut the hell up until they develop ideas of their own. It’s not that I am mad at you, Dedicated, it’s just that talking about the bathroom makes me have to go, and if the YesAndy bladder is ringing it’s gong of intent, the sensei of logic must learn to unlearn what he has learned about holding it all in. Because you could get a bladder infection of the soul.
- Metaphors are dumb. Gotta pee. Brb.

4) Or are they like the nuaghty ghost from ghost busters and it just falls out of them?
- What?! Santa is a Ghost now? The Easter bunny is a phantom spectre who haunts the hallways of homes everywhere, and instead of searching for the ones who killed him, or crossing over into the next phase of existence, There is some free floating apparition rabbit who hides plastic eggs filled with jelly bellies? I see where you are going with that, Dedicated. I see, and I approve. I like your version better than the hundreds of years of tradition that has made small children and that young at heart happy. You are what they call a ‘Dream Killer’. And food falling out of the torso of a see through Santa Claus, fully chewed but not digested is really gross. You must have been hurt really bad by someone you trusted to try and sully my view of Ghostbusters. I saw that movie when it came out in the theatre, Dedicated. And you are not going to take that away from me. Not me, or any of the good people who read these passages of truth. Shame, Dedicated, Oh the shame.

5) You misspelled the word ‘Naughty’ Use your spell check the next time you write me, ok?

Ok, Dedicated Friend and Reader. We have hit on several things today that you need to think long and hard about. I know that in the end, we have taken your curiosity and replaced it with fear. Fear, as the ancient people from far away have told their children for years and years, is the reason I do not hold you or make eye contact.
Together, everyone, we have the power to extinguish every fire and high five every person who punches a child molester in the face.
Let’s get the inbox moving again, folks. No is going to solve your problems but YesAndy, and I am more than willing to help.
Happy Easter everyone. The rabbit is behind you with a knife…

Your very own dedicated friend and lover,

Feel free to send all your needy nagging questions to be sure to put ‘Dear Yes Andy’ in the subject line.

Monday, March 23, 2009

On a very special YesAndy

Hi gang.

Though I am eternally busy, with fingers in every pie, I am dedicated to telling you what you need to do to be happy and content in this mortal coil.

We have seen it all, you and I. Either you are a disgruntled thirteen year old, a welder, a paralegal, or someone who is experiencing their body for the first of many times. I’m right here waiting for you, just like the Richard Marx song from 1989.

And while I eat and sleep and dream just like the rest of you, I do it because I am required by the laws of the Universe. I must survive so you have someone in your corner. And YesAndy is always in your corner. Unless you are an asshole. I have a thing against people who are mean. It also helps that I am the only one truly qualified to answer your questions about the real stuff. The stuff that matters. I may not be a licensed therapist, but I tell you that I am. And that is enough for you.

Imagine my surprise, when I opened up the email bag and found this little gem from a lady who thinks she is a duck.

Remember to keep the questions coming. I will answer them all if I want to.


Dear YesAndy,

I am a reasonably attractive young woman. However, there is one friend I spend a lot of time with, and when we go out, it is apparent that she is The Cute One and I am just The Other One. People only notice her! Especially men people. What should I do?


The Just Okay-Looking Duckling

Dear Ducky,

Hell if I know, Woman. If I were a very smart and talented advice guru (Which, Duh.) I would be remiss if I didn’t stress the fact that YesAndy only replies to attractive women.

Not 'reasonably' attractive women.

Reasonably attractive means you have a bad attitude.

And bad attitudes make you look dumpy and gross.

It sounds like you need to wipe the ‘Wingman’ off your face with some soap, water and some industrial strength ‘I know I am hot- so what is your problem- check my hot ass out’ Available at your local every damn place you go. Let’s start at your mirror, ok?

Here are some things you need very badly:

1) Stand in front of your bathroom mirror, Ducky. Look at yourself. Isn’t that a sweet thing looking back at you? Damn. I like what you see. And you see what I like. Ladies have to understand that they are the alpha bits of the species. Humanities last hope. The things that make going out on the town way more fun. See, if it wasn’t for females, all we would have is gay bars for dudes, and there wouldn’t be any good music, because we would all be lip-syncing Iggy pop songs instead of Regina Spektor or Natalie Merchant. Those ladies have great voices. And that turns YesAndy on. Give me a good singing voice, and you are halfway in my tight leather pants without using a crowbar or whiskey. I forget what I was talking about. Oh yeah. Women. You are one of those, Ducky. You should be proud. There are more of you than men, so when the end of days comes, you will be in charge because dudes are going to be listening to Regina Spektor songs, hoping that she will sleep with me.

At any rate, I bet you are super hot, so stop worrying about it.

2) So…This friend you have…Is she single? Ha ha ha! Just kidding. We’re having a good time, aren’t we, Ducky? You know what? I don’t give a hoot if she is single or not. Because she is a common street whore compared to you! And street whores, as we all know from watching Moulin Rouge, eat the flesh of their young in order to stave off the effects of Tuberculosis. Who wants that? Not me. I like my children alive and well, plowing fields and tending the poppies so my Opium empire can grow and grow. Just kidding about the opium thing, Ducky. Although I have been in my fair share of Opium dens. In fact, that is what I call my bedchambers: ‘The Opium Den’. I even have an elderly Asian man sitting in the corner. He is who I ask questions to when I need advice.

Actually, that isn’t true either. When YesAndy needs council, I seek out those big assed tortoises they have at the zoo. Those guys live for like 200 years or something. And if they haven’t seen it all and done it all, then I will make an old asian guy sitting in the corner of my room eat his funny hat.

On to the third…

3) I mentioned the term ‘Wingman’ earlier. I wanted to go somewhere with that thought, but it’s sunny outside in Minneapolis, and I am distracted by the need to go out and soak up some vitamins though my skin. (which is, I am told, the largest organ the human body has. Isnt that interesting?) So yeah. Wingman… Something about Top Gun. Or maybe it was about Val Kilmer. He was in The Saint. I liked that movie. Spy movies are cool. Elizabeth Shue was in that one. She is wicked attractive just like you, Duckster. AND she was in Adventures in Babysitting. God I hate Chicago. And that one neighbor kid was in Rent. I never saw that show. I guess I was trying to tell you to Not Fuck with the Babysitter. And you are the Babysitter, Ducky. The babysitter of your stupid assed friend who tries to steal all the thunder. Don’t let her steal from you, Ducky. Thievery amongst friends is wack. Just like crack is. Crack is whack. Don’t do drugs, Ducky. I want to be outside. Jesus it is so nice out.

4) My picture of you in my mind is really good, Ducky. That should make you feel better than good, which of course is GREAT. Women, as a general rule, are neat to look at. They have curves and things that confuse men. I am not confused by things like that, as my brain is much more powerful than any realize. I am not easily distracted by a black bra strap that peeks through a white, button down blouse. Nor when a woman bends down to adjust the strap of her stiletto shoe, making her skirt draw tighter around her thighs. Even if she is wearing a black tank top and jeans, and her skin is awesome, she reaches up for something like a jug of water like from The Princess Bride, where it's that dude grabbing it, but in my mind it's a lady. She's all " I want you so hard" and then i go all Han Solo and I say "I know" Damn. Women are great. all of them. Except the ones that don't smile or have a sense of humor. I need that in a woman, or else she gets offended and we break up.
Ok. That's it. I'm going outside.

[YesAndy went outside a few minutes after typing the above sentence, and didn't return to headquarters until it was much too late to write. Also, he found a bottle of whiskey, and some really good movies at a thrift store, so he watched them, drank, thought about private things, and took a shower. It is now the next day, and it is cold and rainy in the Twin Cities.]

5) Ducky. It is nasty outside. What the hell happened? Stupid weather. I think that since I took a break from writing all that 'good will towards Women rhetoric', I pissed off the National Weather People. And they have sent me greyness and rain. I promise that from now on, I'm going to finish what I started and not take breaks. OOOH! The coffee is done brewing. Be right back.
[one hour later]

I had no idea that you were not supposed to brew coffee using coffee as the water. That was very messy.
So Ducky, what was I going to tell you? Oh yeah. I was going to tell you about distractions. They are everywhere. Your 'pretty' friend, for example. She is a distraction when you go out. But are the guys she is distracting really worth it? Probably not. Nine times out of ten, those guys are worthless sacks of doo. They wear the white ball caps backwards and always wear cargo shorts. They probably listen to rap music not out of irony, but because it 'speaks' to them in some way. It reminds them of the life they could have lived if they lived in the inner city, and not some safe suburb where nothing happens except for a contempo casual opening or an in-store appearance of some D-list celeb at a best buy. You want nothing of those Men, Ducky. You need an artist. Someone who is in touch with their emotions enough to know that 'Casper' was a heart warming movie. These guys hear an old Madonna song and say 'Oh! This is my jam!' (But not in a Gay way). You need a guy who looks into your eyes and sees YOU. Not what color bra you are wearing or how good your ass looks in pants. (they see that stuff later on) They look forward to seeing you walk towards them in a crowded room, and they always take your call in the middle of the night if you are in trouble. And if they get up to go to the kitchen while you are watching a movie on the couch, they ask if you would like anything like water or pudding pops or coffee. Those are they guys you want. The guys who treat you as an equal, but know deep down that you are better than them so they will never stop paying attention to you and never take you for granted.

I would hope that any woman who thinks they are Second String to what they think is a prettier friend would gather up some of the self confidence that they all deserve and start kicking ass and taking names. If I were able to (and I am) I would take all of you out on the town and show you how a gentleman handles things. Alas, I am just a voice on the interweb, albeit a voice you have come to know and trust as if my word were from God herself. So Ducky, all you need to do when you are out with that friend is be your beautiful self. Don't let her take anything from you that you don't want to give. And if you happen to be at the table when she goes to the bathroom to powder her nose, leaving you with that group of guys, casually mention that she has the kind of herpes that makes penises shrivel up and turn into vaginas. No guy wants that. Vaginas are wicked complex.

I hope your day tomorrow is sunny, Duckling.

Oh, and never call yourself a Duckling again. Call yourself something sexy, like 'Turbo Cobra Laser Vixen'

The Man who likes the pretty girl's friends,

Sunday, March 8, 2009

Watch out boy, she'll chew you up.

Good Morrow, gentle lovers.

Here's the deal: If you bring me the head of the farmer who decided they needed some daylight savings, I will give you the wisdom of the ages.
This isn't going to be a particularly noteworthy 'YesAndy' today. Not that the advice I give won't be full of miracles and wonder, it's just that I'm really tired, and you feel bad for making me concentrate.
I know what you're thinking. You think this stuff just comes to me as if by dreams, and the only energy I have to muster is the clicking of the mouse and the typing of the keys. No so fast, Lee Harvey. Sometimes even I need to do some research regarding questions.
And so, here is a blog that took over a week to write. Not out of laziness, but research. Because I want to give you facts. Facts that blow your mind.
The items of wisdom I had to look up on the interweb are boldfaced. I will not cite my sources, just know that they are correct.

Dear YesAndy,

I'm about to go to welding school (so that i can help save America) and I'm wondering, is there anything more sexy than a welder? Also, why do you find men attractive?

Seriously why do you keep looking at me like that,
Manly Welder Man

Dear Mary,
Hell if I know, but if I were a person who binds metal together using either electricity or heat (which I am) I would be a welder. Do you want to know where your tuition money is going towards when you get accepted to welding school? Or course you do.
When you go to any Welding school of higher learning, do you notice that all those textbooks cost about $500 each? Sucks, doesn't it? Why would you need to pay that much for a workbook, a dvd and a tome that weighs a hundred pounds? The answer is simple, Mary- The instructors are all Dancers when the sun goes down. And Dancers not only have to 'Bring it' they have to pay their Dancer bills and pay their Dancer rent. Leg warmers don't pay for themselves, Mary.
Most of the cost involved in going to Welding College is for the Special Anniversary Director's Cut of the Movie FLASHDANCE.
Oh no, how cliche. YesAndy referenced Flashdance when talking about welding.
That's right, bitches. The cinema masterpiece from 1983 is all you need. Once you have seen it, you are either three things:
1) A Welder.
2) A Dancer.
3) Jennifer Beals.

Look, Mary, I know we all wanted to be Jennifer Beals when we grew up. Even yours truly thought she looked good. I actually thought it was a porn for many years. Since I don't watch porn, I only make it, I have never seen the movie. However, I do know what it is about just by looking at the poster. Here is a summary for those who haven't seen it:

Jennifer Beals is a Doctor in a dirty city.
She hates her face, so she hides it in a welder's mask.
She is a bad Doctor, so her clothes are all cut up, or barely there at all.
She sells the collars of her sweatshirts to buy soup.
Since she is so bad at medicine, she tries to be a stripper.
Being much better at stripping than Heart bypass surgery, she keeps trying to make it.
Some dude likes her.
They go out to dinner, and since she is so excited to have something other than soup, she is disoriented and cuts off the sleeves of a tuxedo shirt she stole.
She offers the dude the sleeves as payment for the nice dinner, but he takes sex as payment.
They have sex.
She decides to weld as a hobby. (Since she already has the mask)
They get married and have babies.
The babies end up being humanities last hope against a monster. Many years later.
The end.

Here are some things to help you. Five whole things. You might notice that I hit upon a couple other topics you brought up in your question. Please read them, and know the full power of my brain. (which I only use 75% of. Because I am lazy. Normal people use only 10% of their tiny minds. It's science. I cannot fight it.)

1) You think Welding is going to save America... ok. Good luck with that. Is America made of two bits of metal that needs to become one bit of metal? Do you speak in metaphor to confuse or to justify why you cry at night?
I don't speak in metaphor, because I tell it like it is. I'm like a warrior who goes into battle with nothing but his words, vanquishing the enemies of higher thought by stabbing them with razor sharp wit, breaking their necks of doubt with my hands of truth. Pulling out their spines of fear with the jaws of life of wisdom.
Metaphors are for suckers, and you sir, are that Owl who gets to the center of the tootsie pop of lies by biting into it, thus cheating the small inner child of our poorly animated 1970's commercial of the soul out of finding the inner beauty of something something.

2) What is sexy, Manly Mary? A wise man would say that only the wise can admit that they know nothing. I am wise as hell, kiddo, and if there is one thing I know, it is Sexy.
Sexy is not Welding. Welding is of course a part of sexy, but there is more. Let me paint a picture in your mind:
There is a woman. She is standing at the end of a long hallway. The hallway is filled with fog. The kind that stays at your feet. The dry ice kind of fog, but it doesn't get your feet all wet. The sexy kind of fog. And there are christmas lights on the ceiling. And they look cool. As you walk towards her, you are passing rooms where the doors are open. You look inside each one, because you are walking slowly. Slowly is sexy. The first room has some Sexy Aerosmith or Queen song playing in it. The next one has a bunch of Women wearing wizard robes standing in a sexy circle. In the middle of the circle is a circle of actual wizards dressed in women's clothes. That part isn't sexy, and it is freaking you out. You keep walking. The room after that one is some cheerleaders doing complex math problems on a dry erase board. Sexy Math. You keep walking towards the woman at the end of the hallway, and in one room, David Bowie is sitting in a high backed chair. The room after Bowie is actually the same room Bowie is in. He got up from his chair and is following you. He asks you to be his friend. You say yes, of course, because it is David Bowie. But you are still walking. That woman at the end is waiting for you. There are a few more rooms to look into. What is that?! You look into a room, and there is every hot chick you ever went to school with. And they are all wearing bear costumes. Really realistic ones. And there is a stream running through the middle of the room. Salmon are trying to spawn. The girls (who do not have bear heads, just their regular heads) are grabbing the salmon from the air, but instead of salmon, they now have coupons to really good restaurants. They put them in a tray on a desk made of mahogany. The tray is marked 'Outgoing' That part doesn't matter, but the man sitting at the desk is none other than Henry Winkler. Television's Aurthur Fonzerelli. Sexy.
But still, you walk. You can smell the perfume that the girl down the hall is wearing. It's Clinique 'Happy' That stuff smells great. Sexy great.
The second to the last room is a ball pit. Like the kind they have at Chuck E Cheese or Showbiz Pizza. you look inside and see that no one is in it. That is sexy, because ball pits are really fun. You jump in and spend about an hour having the time of your life. There is a projector on one wall showing nothing but the best parts of movies. And there is a soda fountain with free drinks. Every kind of drink. Ever.
You get out of the ballpit, and you are wearing a tuxedo.
One more room to pass, and you arrive at Woman.
Looking inside this last mysteriously sexy room, you see a mirror. It's a big one. it almost reaches the ceiling. You look into it, and you see that you have become Harry Potter, and you are looking at a reflection of you and your dead parents.
Just kidding. It's just a mirror. But there is a hot lady there dressed as a wizard from one of the first rooms, and she gives you an amulet that lets you see through anything. And it can make you fly. Also, it gives you free admission to any amusement park in the world. That is really neat.
You get to the end of the best hallway you have ever walked down and this woman at the end is super hot, and you guys make out and do it. *

I kind of lost steam there at the end, but steam is sexy, and losing steam means you have to go find it again, and looking for stuff is like an adventure. So...yeah. THAT is what sexy is.
I noticed that I forgot that I said welding was a part of it. Let's just assume that Fonzie was welding something together to make a hovercraft.

4) (#2 was also #3.) While I understand your need to make yourself feel more like a man by calling yourself 'Manly Welder Man' You are not yet a Welder. Nor are you yet a Man. Being a Man means helping around the house with little things that might otherwise be overlooked by testosterone laden Beefeaters. You need to offer to help with dishes. You should help make a scrapbook. Try your hand at needlepoint. Watch Moulin Rouge and Amelie. they are really good movies without explosions. But there are Guns. My favorite scene in Amelie is when she takes down an underground street gang in Bangkok with a Desert Eagle .50 And when Nicole Kidman Pulled the Samoan Dictator's heart right out of his chest, and then she took a fucking bite out of it while it was beating?! That was one of the best moments in cinema history.
See, Manly Mary, you need to show off the softer side of Sears. The department store of your heart needs to be open 24 hours a day. Not just for a 13 hour sale.
And you need to stop speaking in metaphor. It's pissing me off.
Your childish way of sneaking in that you think I'm gay doesn't make any sense. It's the same as calling me a 'Neener Head' What the fuck is a 'Neener Head'? It's ok to be gay, Manly. You should stop all the hate. Hate makes you look fat.
I want you to be happy, Manly, but you have some demons you need to exorcise before you become a welder. Working with intense heat, your defenses are low, making you a prime target for enemies.
That is also something a MAN does. He makes it so motherfuckers can't beat him up. Always aware of his surroundings. Ever vigilant. And he watches Amelie and Moulin Rouge with his special lady. And maybe gives high fives about sweet things like Amelie slitting some ninja's throat and drinking whiskey from his skull. There was something else I needed to tell you... What was it? Oh yeah!
Sometimes Men also knit. I have friends who make lovely scarves. I wish I had half their talent.
I'm pretty sure you understand me by now, but you are due for a number five thing. Here you go...

5) You signed off by telling me to stop looking at you like that. Looking at you like what, Manly Welder Lady? Do you think I am there with you right now? Do you see me everywhere you go? I'm worried about you, Tiny Dancer. I have a neat little project for you to help you feel more comfortable in your skin.

here is what you need:

* Sweatshirt (grey)
* Scissors
* Sleeveless Dance Leotard
* Spandex pants (or opaque tights)
* Legwarmers
* Curly wig (optional)

Step 1: Pick up a grey sweatshirt and cut the ribbed neckline and cuffs off of it. Wash it and you should have a "roll" to the cuffs and neckline allowing it to hang nicer off of your shoulder like the one in the Flashdance.

Step 2: Layer your ensemble with the opaque tights or spandex first, then your dance leotard (sleeveless or short-sleeved works best), and then put your off-the-shoulder sweatshirt over it.

Step 3: Pull on your legwarmers and slouch them down.

Step 4: if you don't already have curly hair, And you're not inclined to wearing a wig, scrunch your hair with mousse while still wet.
Now go out and get kissed by men and women alike, because now you look like Jennifer Beals.
Let's face it, you want to be her, right? This is what we have been getting to all along. Manly Welder: You want to be a woman.

So, Manly Welder Man-child. Have we an understanding? I'm pretty sure I was good about hitting on all those pesky topics you burdened me with in your little note. Now I have burdened you with knowledge that I hope you use to become a better welder. And a better dancer. A flash dancer.
This edition of YesAndy has made me want to go see Flashdance. However, since it isn't in the theatres anymore (it came out in 1983) I will instead go watch Amelie again because I don't want to be made fun of by the Hollywood video guy because I'm renting Flashdance.
Take care, Manly. Every time I look at some welded piece of metal, I will think of Jennifer Beals. I hope you think of me.

oh, and Manly Welder Man, remember that when you are 'Quenching', you are rapidly cooling the steel to make it harder. The steel has to have enough carbon in it for it to harden. Mild steel can't be quenched to harden it because it has only .33% carbon in it. You need about .70% to be able to harden by quenching. You are changing the crystal structure from one atomic pattern to another. And also, go fuck yourself. I'm not gay :)

Your Wiser, more assertive Welding mentor-

*That may or may not have been a dream I had recently.

Thursday, February 26, 2009

One in which YesAndy! gets a little mean.

Like the Obese Albert says: Hey Hey Hey, my little bitches.
Did you think I forgot about my duties as an Advice Doctor?
Heck no! I was checking my inbox one hundred times a day, hoping against hope that somebody needed my help. Instead, all I got were coupons from RedBox and Bucca Di Beppo.
It seems that the only help needed out there in the interweb was my own manhood, as I also got a lot of offers to make my junk bigger, and lots of shopping sprees at Walmart. Since YesAndy doesn't need Walmart to make my penis the size of a laundry hamper, I sat alone in the YesAndy Headquarters and plotted my revenge.
And I also went to Bucca Di Beppo and watched dollar new releases until my inbox told me someone needed me.
And helping people is what makes my manhood bigger, people.
So this little ditty from one of our younger readers came the other day. And now, I invite you to see the healing process begin again.
Remember to ask me questions, and I will answer. Hopefully this dry spell will be an isolated incident. I can only eat so much pasta, and I have already watched 'Baby Mama' 15 times.*
So Let's help some Mo-Fo's shall we?

Dear YesAndy,

I am writing to express my shock and dismay at the deeply offensive content of your February 5th post.
As a thirteen year old, I found your insensitivity towards people in this most delicate stage of life appalling.
So my question to you is this:
Hey butthead, why are you such a butthead?

-Li'l Petey Jenkins

Dear "Li'l Petey Jenkins",

Who in the most holy land of "What The Fuck" do you think you are?!
I will reach into the Interweb SuperhighwayNet and choke you till your balls pop out of your ears. The pain you will experience by my hands will be like watching 'Bring it on again' in slo motion with sped up French Subtitles for all eternity. And also, you will be on fire.
I'm gonna make you bleed, Fuck-O.
Santa Claus is coming to your house and slapping you across the face with his imaginary dick. And then he will steal your family and....Jesus you piss me off, Kid.


And now my calmed down response:

Dear Petey,
Hell if I know, Mr. Man. If I were a mean and vengeful God (Which I am) I would make time travel possible for one time only and go back not to kill hitler, or stop a bullet from killing a very important historical figure (ie- MLK Jr or JFK or RFK or Lincoln) No, Petey, I would go back in time and punch your Mom in the belly while you were in the womb and make your stupid ass face retarded.
Oh wait. It seems I have already done that.

Eat a dick, Petey. Eat. A. Dick.

Your friend,

And now the real response:

Dear Li'l Petey,

Hey Man, I'm super sorry that my truth hurts your feelings. I totally feel for you, being in the early part of adolescent development. I've been there, Dude, and I know it can be a really tough place to be. I might have been too harsh to that kid who liked to Jerk off to women wearing headsets (Read the post: 'Yay, PORN! Do I have your attention' Feb 4th, 2009).
I might have said a few things that I regret. Maybe we should spend this YesAndy! column thinking about how we can build trust and learn tolerance and understanding. Perhaps build a lasting bridge between different generations and heal together.
Or, Petey, you could gingerly go fuck yourself and start your own advice column.

Here are five things that will prove that you are stupid:

1) Your name. 'Li'l petey Jenkins' What are you, standing on a street corner selling papers in the '20's? Is that what they called you in the Sanitarium when you were fighting off the Consumption? Is your girlfriend 'Little Orphan Annie' or do you take your best girl Friday to see the new Shirley Temple Talkie and talk about where the best place is to do the Charleston over a Saspirilla? Try changing your name to "Duke Beefheart ManlyMan" or
"Johnson Dragon Hellyeah" Those are real men's names. Then I will take you seriously for like a half second.

2) Stop crying for Argentina, Little Girl. I'll have you know that when the kid I helped last time read the advice I gave him, his life was changed for the better.
He sent me a note:

Dear YesAndy!
Thank you for helping me by answering my cries last time.
After I read what you wrote me, I went out and got a job
wrestling wild boars for food and sport. Also, I have sex
all the time because of what you said.
You are my hero.
Thanks again,
That one guy I helped last time

3) So you were shocked and dismayed, huh? Shocked because I helped the shit out of people? It's what I do, kid. I am here for nothing more than to be the Guiding Light and the General Hospital people need to keep the blood flowing.
Are you dismayed by the fact that I have a Doctorate in Beating you up? Because I am prescribing all of my readers to punching the next 13 year old name 'Li'l Petey' that they meet.
Punch until satisfied, and call me in the morning.
God, Teenagers suck.

4) Butthead. You called me a Butthead. There are certain societies that encourage the exchange of money for love. You might notice that your parents get a little short with you towards the end of the months. It isn't because of the lunar cycle, Petey, it's because they have not recieved their check from the government for being your parents. Your parents are being paid to like you, Petey. In fact, all of your little friends from your figgy pudding private school in the hamptons get paid too. When you are in gym class, you might notice the teacher handing out twenty dollar bills to the team that has to pick you in dodge ball. She isn't a gym teacher, Petey, she is an accountant. Everyone around you is being paid to be around you.

5) You don't even get a number five, you dork.

So hey, Petey, No hard feelings, huh? I'm sure you are a cool kid with a lot of dreams and big ideas. You keep shooting for those stars and keep chasing dragons or rainbows or whatever 13 year old girls chase. You and I are now cool again.
I think next time, I will be answering a question and dolling out advice to an adult. And adult woman who likes it when I talk sexy wisdom.
So ladies, please send me your questions to there is a link in the upper right corner of the page.

See you next time, and Petey: Eat your vegetables and always have deodorant/antiperspirant on you at all times until you are 21. After that, switch to just deodorant. There is aluminum in the antiperspirant that can contribute to altzheimers. And also, remember that masturbating is evil and if you do it, everyone will know. Everyone.

Your friend and Mentor,

*Just kidding. I've never seen that movie. I only watch porn and episodes of House.**
** The HELL I watch House!***
*** I totally watch House.

Thursday, February 5, 2009

Yay Porn! Do I have your attention?

Dear Legions of Doom,

I get some doozies here at YesAndy! Worldwide.
'You People' send me some really thought provoking stuff. Now, I know I provoke your thoughts even more with my responses, and you are most welcome.
However, this next query is more of a cry for help. And I heed the call.
It sounds like 'Dialing for love' needs guidance and a stern talking to. YesAndy! Style.
They write:

Dear YesAndy!
I ran across this site and I am uncomfortable about the feelings that it inspires deep inside of me. I keep thinking, "but this is innocent!" but it sure don't feel innocent. Help.

- dialing for love

Dear Dialing for Love,

Hell if I know, but if I were a Jr. High School Counselor (which I am) I would slap you silly with your Hanna Montenegra trapper keeper.
What are you playing at, Dialing? Did you think I wouldn't know that you scream 'Help me, I am 13 years old and I think my body is changing!' ?
Since I don't like your advice handle, Dialer, I am going to call you 'Corky' from now on.
That's right, just like the dude from Life Goes On.
Let's get some things out into the open, Corky:
-You are not a bad person for getting aroused at some really freaky stuff.
- You are aroused by really freaky stuff.

I looked that the website you sent me on a colleague's computer. I just didn't know where it would take me, and since I knew that my buddy Father Seamus O'Flanahan would have a very secure computing machine, I wasn't worried about spam bots or virus monsters. Whatever the hell you hacker kids are calling it these days. Ok. Truth be told, I just sent the link to my friend. He described it to me via an instant messaging system. That is where you type brief sentences to friends instead of talking to them on the telephone. Or in person. It keeps relationships brief and tidy.
Father Seamus, a Priest on the Catholic side of the street, says that you are going to Hell. But just between you and I, Corky, he says that to everyone.

So. Cork... You like it when the ladies wear the headsets... Ok... Here are some things that popped into my head:

GODMAN6969- What up, YesMan? How's Tricks?
YESANDY00769- Father! How the fuck are you? It's been a while. Turning as always. (Tricks) You?
GODMAN6969- DUDE! Still chasing tail. J/K How's the advice business?
YESANDY00769- It doesn't pay, but it sure is rewarding to help all these people. I'm sure you can dig it.
GODMAN6969- What do you mean? Help People? Whatever. I'm in it for the Benjamins.
YESANDY00769- And all that free wine...
GODMAN6969- Holy shit yeah. I'm kinda buzzed right now. It's still blood, you know. I haven't turned it back.
YES ANDY00769- You mean you used it this morning? I thought you were supposed to chug the stuff you don't use?
GODMAN6969- What, and waste it? This stuff is crazy expensive. In this economy, we are allowed to cut corners. Sometimes I make the parishioners drink Grape Crush. They don't really know the diff
YESANDY00769- MEssed up. Hey, I got a favor to ask.
GODMAN6969- Do it.
YESANDY00769- So this guy writes me a thing and sends a link to some site. Can you take a look at it for me? My computer sucks. And it might be a porn link.
GODMAN6969- No problemo. Send it now. Brb. I gotta pee and grab some more B.O.C.
GODMAN6969- Blood of Christ.
YESANDY00769-How very Blasphemous.
GODMAN6969- Your Mom is Blasphemous. Brb.
YESANDY00769- k. here’s the link, Padre.
GODMAN6969- I’m back. Holla! God Man in the HOUSE!
YESANDY00769- look at the link.
YESANDY00769- Stop using those stupid messaging phrases. You sound like an idiot.
GODMAN6969- Shutup or I’ll send you into purgatory. This link is so lame it hurts.
YESANDY00769- What is it?
GODMAN6969- It’s some screenshots of chicks wearing headsets. Did some 13 year old send this to you?
YESANDY00769- Yeah. I think his name is Corky.
GODMAN6969- Like the kid from the Obladi-Oblada show?
YESANDY00769- Yeah. He feels dirty about liking it. What do you think?
GODMAN6969- I’ve seen some shit in my day, but the little dude has a point.
YESANDY00769- ?
GODMAN6969- These are some hot ladies. j/k He’s going to Hell.
YESANDY00769- You always say that.
GODMAN6969- I mean it this time. This isn’t good porn. I put hotter stuff than this in the church bulletin. What are you gonna tell him?
YESANDY00769- Don’t know. I might send him some private links to other sites.
GODMAN6969-Word. I could send you my favorites.
YESANDY00769- He didn’t say he was into midgets.
GODMAN6969- What about Bullfighting Midgets?
GODMAN6969-LMAO. Seriously. Bullfighting midgets are cool.
YESANDY00769- Nevermind. I don’t want my readers to think that I’m all about the porn.
GODMAN6969- But you are.
YESANDY00769- True, but I don’t want to post links on my page. It sends the wrong idea. I’m still hoping someone with some connections will stumble across this site and give me money for being so clever.
GODMAN6969- Speaking of clever, I saw your Brother the other day.
YESANDY00769- Andrew?
GODMAN6969- No, That dude is Gay. The other one. Dandy.
YESANDY00769- Oh.
GODMAN6969-Yeah, he needed to interview a legit priest for a class.
YESANDY00769- He’s taking seminary really serious. My family is super proud of him. Well, maybe not Andrew
GODMAN6969- How come?
YESANDY00769- You know how he runs that lame ass little show on Monday nights?
GODMAN6969- Sure. Little bastard sends me facebook messages all the damn time for it. Like I would go and see little skits or some shit. They don’t even serve beer. Do you want some coffee with your stand up poetry? Hahahahaha
YESANDY00769- Right. The show isn’t that bad. I think you may be drunk.
GODMAN6969- I think you are correct.
YESANDY00769- So Andrew asks Dandy to host sometimes. He did it a couple weeks ago. Told him to do something about King Lear. Totally bombed.
GODMAN6969- WTF? King Lear?
YESANDY00769- I know, right?! Andrew said NEVER AGAIN.
GODMAN6969- What happened?
YESANDY00769- Dandy Took it the wrong way and punched him in the head.
GODMAN6969- Maybe you should punch Corky in the head.
YESANDY00769- So he starts looking at better porn?
GODMAN6969- Sure. What are his five things gonna be? You still do that? The five bits of wisdom for every question?
YESANDY00769- Yeah, I still do it. Don’t you read it?
GODMAN6969- The site is blocked by our servers.
YESANDY00769- And Porn sites aren’t?
GODMAN6969- Are you kidding me?
YESANDY00769- That pisses me off. How am I going to get the Catholic readers?
GODMAN6969- I’ll slip in some plugs on Sunday. When I’m reading the gospel. It’ll spice things up. With Christmas done, it gets boring until Easter.
YESANDY00769- Thanks. I'm not sure if Corky is going to get five things this time around. Maybe I'll tell him to look up 'YouPorn' That's a good site. They may have some ladies wearing headsets on it.
GODMAN6969- It's odd that Corky gets off on headsets. My secretary wears one, but she is ugly as sin. Maybe Corky could hook up with Mrs. Johnson...What kind of a name is Corky?
YESANDY00769- What kind of a name is Seamus?
GODMAN6969- One of Christ's ninja assassins... I think he was a disciple or something.
YESANDY00769- What?
GODMAN6969- Or he wrote the bible. Yeah.
GODMAN6969- Very. Hey, tell Corky that I think he should google the words ‘Free porn’ He will get the answers he’s in desperate need of.
YESANDY00769- I’ll do that.
GODMAN6969- I gotta go. It’s taco night at the Nun’s house.
YESANDY00769- They do that at my brother’s school.
GODMAN6969- You obviously didn’t catch the joke.
YESANDY00769- What? Oh. Gross.
GODMAN6969- It’s a good thing you don’t post our conversations. I would get into so much trouble.
YESANDY00769- Yeah…
GODMAN6969- And I would kill you.
YESANDY00769- Gotcha.
GODMAN6969- Take it sleazy, Yes-Mandingo. Seriously, tell the Headset nerd to get laid.
YESANDY00769- Will do. Go sleep it off.
GODMAN6969- Eat balls, my son. Peace out.
YESANDY00769- Later.
GODMAN6969- Has signed out of Chat.

So Corky, check out YouPorn. But don't do it at work. You might get busted.
I suggest you also take a look in a mirror and say 'At least I don't like Midget Bullfighters'
I'm glad The Good Father and I were here to help you. You didn't get any five things today because all you really need is to do more websurfing. The interweb is made up of 90% porn, 5% facebook, 4% other stuff and 1% YesAndy!
If you or your little friends have any more need of me, I'll be right here. At my computer. Wearing a headset and nothing else.
You sick fuck.
J/K, Corky. J/K.

Your buddy as we burn in Hell together,

Saturday, January 31, 2009

Manliest post about fashion advice.

My darling Pudding Pops,

I have been reviewing only the posts I have made that could be considered 'Very Awesome' and have noticed that they all carry that delicious moniker. However, I am a little remiss in the area of 'complete and total manliness'
I know what you are thinking(all of the time, mind you) and you are thinking this:
'But the Manliness is in the subtext. I have never met a man so full of man.'
To quote a rapper friend of mine, 'I feel you'
But today's post is gonna be chock full of beef, radical moves on my skateboard of fire and guns. All of those things are high on any man's list of things needed to be happy.
After you read what I have to tell Debbie, you will need a thousand wet-naps to wipe the hot advice-sauce off of your fingers, because this YesAndy! is on Nuclear Fire. (Hotter than regular fire).
Debbie writes:

Dear YesAndy!
I have never been what you'd call a fashionista, but having recently
entered a career as a secretary for a high-profile law firm, I feel
that it is time I started dressing a little better. As noted, though,
I just started this job, so I don't have much money yet. What is your
wardrobe advice for a brand-new secretary on a budget?

-Debbie D.
Newark, NJ

Dear Debbie (Yo, Woman!)
What in the shit are you yammering about? (Hell if I know)
If I were a Man, and bet your ass I am. I am the freaking King of them. The Zeus of Men. I'm trembling at my own power, I am so Manly.
Damn it. This isn't working out like I had planned...
Ok, Debbie. Here's the deal- You are not going to like this post one bit unless you drop your woman attitude. This is a MAN POST. YOU WILL ACCEPT MY MAN-VICE(The word 'Man' coupled with 'advice')
Today I take no prisoners and I don't care if I make you cry into your special K cereal (widely known to be the one thing all women eat).
I will be taking you on a rampage, and in my mind you are dressed like Raquel Welch in One Million Years BC.
(By 'Rampage' I mean an adventure where I treat you to dinner and a movie and ask your parents if I can see you again. Home before 9pm, I swear. No wandering hands.)

So you want to look nice at the lawyer-hut? Try soaking your hands in blood. Those things(lawyers) are vicious. And Jersey Lawyers are probably the worst. They talk funny. Not like Minnesotans who invented language and how to speak it properly.
But thank the gods you came to me for help, instead of dropping into a Contempo Casual or a Talbots. Their high pressure sales tactics rival that of The Radio Shack employee or those blood suckers at Claire's Boutique. I speak from someone else's experience, I assure you.
My fashion taste is rather upscale, but since I too am on a budget, I make shabby sheik look like it was stripped from Gianni Versaci's immaculate corpse. That made sense to YesAndy!
Here are some things to consider. Five of them:

1) The term 'fashionista' is a made up word from your head. I am the only one in this venue (interweb) that can make up words. (Thank you in advance, readers)
However, the word 'Fashionatrix' is one I use to describe this savvy YesAndy!
You will notice that the image you have of me in your mind's eye is correct. I do look nice.
Really really nice, in fact.

2) The best part of being at a desk all day is that you do not have to wear pants. That cuts your clothing budget in half, giving you more dollars to buy more tops. Now, I know that in today's modern office, there are positions known as 'standing' Even the occasional 'Walking around'. You may be asked to do this in your new job, Debbie. Politely tell the powers that be when they ask you to do these things to go to hell. Start screaming "I don't have to put up with this shit! I am a Man! I do whatever the hell I want! I will eat roast beef if it strikes my fancy!"
You may notice that I told you to scream out that you are a Man. Remember that my word is gold, and you did ask me for advice.
Your superiors at the Lawyer place will be confused and try to use their Law-talk at you. Remind them once again that you will eat roast beef. Even if they do not want you to. Roast beef is delicious, and they will want to end the conversation right then and there in case they begin to look foolish.

3) Only go to work on casual days. Or, since you are probably in charge of the office, consider making every day a casual day. Even YesAndy! likes to wear Kakhi pants and a tee shirt here at headquarters. And If I ever give myself any guff, I start screaming that I am a man. And then I head over to Arby's if I have a coupon.

4) Why is Arby's so freaking expensive?! That stuff isn't even real roast beef! It pisses me off that you have to do the 4 items for $5.99 or else your dinner is going to be like $10.00
And those chocolate pastries the have taste like crap. Avoid those. The cherry ones are way better. And they only send coupons in those 'have you seen me?' circulars every three months or something. You might get lucky and find them in the Sunday paper, but by then I'm way too tired to go out to Arby's in the first place. Whatever. Fuck Arby's.
What? Oh. Here's your fifth thing:

5) In this tricky economy, you really need to go shopping at thrift stores. They not only have really good deals, but they also have housewares and old records. I got a Queen album that I was looking for for like .50 cents! And I walked away with a pair of pants for a dollar. A dollar! It was like I was robbing the place.

Debbie, you are going to be just fine. I promise. Clothes do make the man, but you are a woman, so you need to find something else that makes you. I bet you don't even need clothes. Women are generally pretty attractive, and the ones who request my sage wisdom are among the prettiest in the land. Having never been to New Jersey, I cannot guarantee how good the Arby's are there, but the ones in Minnesota have free wi-fi now, and most of them look like hotel lobby's. Or would that be 'Lobbies'? I never could get that one. Maybe it's actually 'Arbies'?
I pretty much forgot what your question was, but I am glad to have been there for you.
Please note that you can steal office supplies and return them to Office Depot or Staples for cash money you can use to buy albums and old George Foreman Grills at the local thrift store.
Or clothes. You can maybe get women's clothes there. Good luck on your new job!

Have a fantastic Day, Debbie.

The Godfather of the FashionOstra (fashion and cosa nostra put together),

Thursday, January 29, 2009

Harpers Bazaar is not like a Bazaar in Morocco.

Dearest knights of the Coffee table,

Do not be fooled by the amount of product I am pressing out en mass.
The YesAndy! factories will have to take a holiday sometime, as I am the only worker, and I refuse to outsource my wisdom to the Indians. Dot, not feathers. Not that I dislike them both, quite the contrary, I enjoy both Curry and all of North America. Which they both invented respectively.
It's just that lately, I have been asked so many pressing questions, that I feel if I take even the shortest vacation, I will risk making you feel alone.
You are not alone, my flock. I am right here waiting to shave you and sell your wool to the highest bidder.
Speaking of shaving and curry and other things, it looks like our next 'Helpee' came to me just in time. A person named 'Fingers' writes:

Dear Yes Andy,

I left my house yesterday by foot, and in a neighbor's yard I found something interesting. It appeared to be a monkey's paw. I love wishes(good), but it was gross and I am not down with disease(bad). So I left it there and now I regret it. Did I make the right decision?


Dear Fingers,
Hell if I know, Man. I mean, if I were a Witch Doctor ('Which' I am. Pun intended) I would click and whistle many things to you regarding the evil that you avoided while at the same time berate your folly at the unlimited power that you passed by.
That's right, Fingers, Monkey Paws are sacred magic. Sacred, dark and evil magic.
Not to be confused with Monkey Blood, which everyone knows is in everything we drink with the exception of Diet Coke.
I am impressed with your knowledge of Monkey Paws, Fingers. In fact, I know of only one man who knows more on the subject than I do. My old professor-
Dr. Hestridge Turnbuckle Merriwether Thistlewaite Esq. III.
I say he was my professor out of respect, as I surpassed his knowledge which at one time when I was 11 seemed infinite. Sadly, when I took a very important exam in Smart School, my brain was pronounced the biggest and best. Thus making him redundant. He went mad with melancholy and jealousy, and was last seen in a carnival in the orient selling paper hats made out of stone.

The whole business was terrible, and I seldom like to delve into my past.

But you, Fingers, seem to be channeling his knowledge of the Monkey Paw. And I consider it destiny that you found me on this world wide superhighway. So many years later. If it wouldn't be too much of a bother, I will be referring to you from now on with a nickname I liked to call my dear colleague.

So, Dr. Asshole. You walked by a Monkey Paw and were afraid of the little cooties it had on it.
Nice going, braintrust. Did you ever even read my essay on the power that little ziplock sandwich bags hold?
No, you didn't, as it was only in the New England Journal of Fucking Medicine. And I doubt you have a subscription like I do.
See,they are tiny little plastic bags that you can put stuff in to keep them fresh and tidy. They are designed for two things
A- Keeping sandwiched soft and delicious
B- Monkey Paws.
So, Dr. Asshole, here are five things for you to consider:

1) When you come across a Monkey Paw, you pick it up. Just as if I were to walk next to a box carrying the bones of Christ himself, I would maybe stop a minute to check out how heavy the box was and maybe call into work that day because I had the bones of Jesus and unlimited cosmic power. Hell, even if it were a Jesus Paw I would take it. You don't find those everyday and there are only five in existence. You know what kind of paw I would NOT stop and pick up?
See number two:

2) ALWAYS SAY YES TO PAWS. Take all the Paws you can, and never ever question it again. The thing that is so great about Monkey Paws is that most people don't want to touch them, so not to say they are plentiful, they are attainable. Not like the Paws of the 'Tibetan Johnny Cock'. Those are more of a claw thing, and usually they are covered in elf blood. But everyone in the field of science and mysticism knows that claws trump paws any day of the week. But we are talking about Paws, aren't we, Dr. Asshole?

3) I was talking earlier about the attainability of Monkey Paws. Now, everyone knows that with the possession of the paw of a monkey, you get as many wishes as there are digits on the paw. However, what many do not realize is that you can easily make false monkey paws in your kitchen. I have, in my travels, come across many of them. See, the tricky thing about these fake paws is that you still get wishes out of them, but the wishes you get are evil wishes. The kind of wishes that teach you lessons about greed and stuff.

4) Please remember, Dr. A, that you may have avoided a fake Monkey Paw while walking around your neighborhood, you also missed an opportunity to play a game called "Reverse Monkey Paw Psychology" This game, along with Justice League Monopoly, Mad Gab and The Clarissa Explains it all Board game are among my favorite activities when with a group of close friends. All you have to do is ask the paw a wish that is the opposite of what you really intend. It's pretty simple. For example: If you want several Million US Dollars in small unmarked non consecutive bills, all you need to wish is- I wish that my worst enemy would get several million US Dollars...etc.
That way, the evil is put upon your enemies head, and all you have to do is break into his/her garage with a lot of duffel bags and a wheel barrow.
This game however does not work when wishing for sexual fantasies to come true, because you end up having sex with zombies or something.

5) Did you ever think that perhaps that Monkey Paw was the neighbors who you were spying on? Maybe they realized that it was an evil monkey paw and threw it out into the yard, hoping that some peeping Tom neighbor would get his come-uppance? I think you should invest in some binoculars and stick to the old fashioned 'looking out your back window with binoculars' and maybe you will see something interesting like a murder. However, do not overlook the fact that your neighbor could be sitting on a lot of cash in his garage, and the only thing between you and the almighty dollar is a small deadbolt lock and some zombie hookers. Both of which can be dealt with if you bring a crowbar.

So Fingers(Dr. Asshole) I appreciate you bringing me down memory lane. I haven't thought of that old son of a bitch since I was a pre-teen. Also, it is Winter, the monkey Paw would probably be well preserved in the cold. A trip to your local mercantile would get you the ziplock bags you need for future endeavors into the dark and interesting science of the occult.
I should also mention that they are great for organizing beads if you moonlight as a jewelry maker. So I would check and see if the paw is still there, and try tempting fate.
But don't be a fool and wish for more Monkey Paws. Those things are covered in wood ticks. Much like children.

Best Monkey Paw Wishes!

Your favorite fortune telling carnie,

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

I am your torchsong. And other things.

Good afternoon, agents of change!

The good news is that I am getting better at organizing all of my items on the old 'to do' list and you are the ones who will take home the spoils.
I think I can do 'Laundry' later tonight.
I feel I can change the cat litter while doing the laundry because the box is in the same room in my palatial stronghold that is the YesAndy! offices.
I know I can use my time to serve you better and answer the things you need answering.
Maybe we can learn something along the way.
Come, gentle Pilgrim, let us tally forth to dizzying heights of understanding. Together, hand in hand, we will own the night and remember the Titans and Bring it on again and again.
This next query comes from some manly man named Steve. He writes:

Dear YesAndy,

Sometimes I get the song "Girlfriend" by Avril Lavigne stuck in my
head for hours and hours. I hate it. What should I do?

Sincerely, Steve

Dear Steve,
Hell if I know, man. If I was a radio disc jockey (which I am) and you called in to try and listen to that song, here is how the conversation would go:

YesAndy!- Hey, this is YesAndy! The best DJ on planet Earth! Coming to you live from the sweet as hell studio that looks exactly like the bridge of the Enterprise AND The Millenium Falcon (Because that would be the sweetest studio ever) I'm spilling hot hits into your lap because I am the Bartender of sound! My martini shaker of tunes is overflowing with the tastiest music that make your ears drunk with... Music! Woah! looks like there is a 40 car pileup on a highway because that last rad-ass song I played made everyones 'music-blood' level five times the legal limit! I'm taking requests on the 'Yes-Line' Remember the number is area code six- tee- nine 696-9696..9 Oh yeah! I'm like the kool aid man busting through a wall, holding a briefcase full of shit you wanna hear!
First caller, go ahead!"

Steve- "Uh. Hi. I'm a freaking nerd who has never seen a woman. I would like to hear a song called 'I wish I had a Girlfriend' by some chick. Oh! gotta go! Xena And The View And Martha Stewart are all on at once, I have to go cry and think about unicorns."

YesAndy!- "Hell no, Steve!"

End Scene.

Steve. Steve. Steve!
What am I going to do with you? I can only take so much 'What the Hell?!' each day, and your question just used up a week of it!
There is a word we use in the advice giving circuit (which is just like the Rodeo Circuit, if you were curious) for people like you: Hopeless.
However, since YesAndy! is a kind and benevolent god of the 'WhatshouldIDo's?' I choose to help you scratch out the 'less' in 'hopeless' and give you 'more' making you 'HopeMore'
All copywritten catchphrases aside, I am glad you came to me for help and not someone mean like one of my brothers. Those guys are dicks and cannot be trusted like the Y.A.!-Man.
Here are some things that will help you with your problem:

1)To understand the song 'Girlfriend' you need to know what that word means. To do that, you need to talk to a girl, and use some magic potion to get her to like you enough to date you. I suggest going to a gypsy and having him/her brew up some number nine. Dig it?
I am not condoning the use of roofies to get a girl. If you do that, I will kill you. That stuff gives guys a bad wrap, and we already have to deal with those Frat boys and guys who use spray tanning and wear popped collars.
The best place for you to go would be a sci-fi convention or a renaissance fair. The women who go to those are willing to do just about anything. Seriously, they rule.

2) Avril Levigne is not a real name. That is a strange way of saying
'Avril' Which is French for 'April' which is a month in the calendar year.
'Levi' Which is a brand of denim.
'Gne' which is black forest slang from the 1500's for Gnome. And those are woodland people who wear pointy hats and build shoes or something.
So putting it all together, the song is written by a "Forest sprite who wears jeans in the Springtime"
I don't have anything more to say about it. The proof is right there.

3) "Hate" is such a strong word. It is used too much in todays society. However, do you know what word is used more than that? 'Hours' You used it twice in your question, Steve. I get it. But no matter what song I have stuck in my head, and trust me-they are usually awesome songs, they are not there for more than a few minutes. Maybe my brain is more powerful than yours. That could be the case. Actually, it probably is. I tested at a very high brain level in smart school. It is my cross to bear, Steve, and I don't want to make you sad.
In fact, let's just move on to your number four thing before you start crying.

4) Any song that runs through your head over and over should be a song that could be played as part of a soundtrack in a movie. A really good part in a movie. Like when they all start shooting each other and there are explosions. And someone is on fire. If 'Girlfriend' is one of those movies, then more power to you and the Gnome in Spring Jeans. But if I am correct, and I am, that song would play well during Steel Magnolias* and/or Circle of Friends. Maybe even that traveling pants movie with all the hot chicks in it. (not without irony, as it is about pants and the song is written by a Gnome). When I think of it, all those movies needed was a few scenes where they all start shooting each other and there are explosions. And someone is on fire. And now we have come full circle, and you are realizing the soothing help that I give people.
What was I talking about? Oh yeah, Number five:

5) Have you tried listening to more than just the one song, Steve? I suggest listening to Queen, Aerosmith, or basically anyone else. Hell, even watching tv will give you a nice Jingle every now and again. You ever hear the Menards theme song, Steve? It's like Mozart. Or that State Farm ditty? Did you know that Barry Manilow wrote that, Steve? Maybe you should start listening to Regina Spektor. She is way hotter than the Gnome girl. Less angry too.

So Steve, did we make a breakthrough or what?!
You are going to start listening to other music that doesn't suck, and I am going to watch Steel Magnolias tonight. Everybody wins.
If there are rules to this thing we call life, I think it's that helping people figure stuff out is what I am awesome at doing.
I think there are other rules, but I am going to go watch a movie.
Steve, watch your back, and while at those sci-fi cons, avoid the bondage rooms. If you dig Avril what's her face, you will get all shades of torn up in there.

Your DJ on the afternoon rush hour,

* Just wanted you to think about Steel Magnolias one more time. That movie rules.

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Now hear this!

Rest assured that tomorrow night you will receive an abundance of help for all of your problems.
But right now, YesAndy has to sleep.

Spread the word. The truth is coming.

Sleep well, howler monkeys.


Sunday, January 25, 2009

Call and response. I patiently wait.

Dear lovers,

I am in need of your need to gain wisdom through my eyes and mind.
Allow me to blow you away with what pops into my head without even trying.
I can and will help you answer life's mysteries.
All you have to do is email me.

in point of fact, I dare you to test the boundaries usually left for the once thought dead Gods. They are back, baby, and they have made me wicked smart.
Now, I'm not saying I am a god, but I do tell it like it is and grant wishes and bend rivers with my hands.
Also, I make a pretty good hot chocolate.

I look forward to being back in your life again. And I look forward to helping you even more.

Your future and your present,

Friday, January 23, 2009

And we're back!

Hello out there to all of you from the void of the world wide web!
The YesAndy! offices are located in Minneapolis, Minnesota, where it is currently a balmy Zero degrees on the Fahrenheit scale.
Zero. That means it is nothing degrees outside, and since I live in a spacious and luxurious mansion that was built before it was fashionable to live in old apartments that they call 'Condo's', my windows are thin, and my space heater is running on all cylinders.
To no avail, I am sad to report. It is cold in my domain, and I am a bit numb in the fingers and grumpy in the attitude.
That, however, will not affect my first advice post in almost two years.
I'd say 'welcome back' but you have never left. No, dear and faithful reader and seeker of the truth, you have been sitting outside in a sleeping bag on the sidewalk of my heart like you are waiting to buy tickets to a wrestling match just to see me pile drive knowledge into the collective minds of the planet.
All imagery aside, I have missed you, and want us to be good friends. You can trust me to never bullshit, and always enlighten.
That said, let us begin our new friendship with my latest query from a hot little number who calls herself 'Juicer'

Dear YesAndy!

If you bleed into food that a vegetarian (but not Vegan) is going to consume, do you have to disclose that information?

Yours truly,

Dear Juicer,
Hell if I know, but since it is so freaking cold in my house, I have no choice but to keep typing just to keep the blood flowing through my fingertips. You are in luck, since I value my digits, and am only assuming that you are a woman who wants me to tell you them. Get it? Digits? Like my phone number? The one you want to use to call me and have me whisper sweet nothings in your ear?
I might have been off the reservation for a while, but let me tell you that I am nothing if not more attractive, and I can tell you are interested in me. I'm interested in you, too, Juicer. But my number is unlisted, even though bill collectors seem to have it all figured out.
What did you want again?
Oh yeah, Blood.
That's a tricky thing, blood. And if I was a Hematologist (which I am), I would tell you to stop freaking out. It's just blood, woman, stop crying.
Did you cut yourself?
Are you a chef to the damned?
Who serves blood to people? What kind of restaurant do you run?
I know a lot of people who are vegetarian, and nine times out of ten, they do not order anything with blood in it.
And if they did, then they are a very bad vegetarian and don't know what that lifestyle means.
Here are some things that have popped into my very well shaped head, which I hope helps you decide to be more careful in the kitchen:

1) The worst kind of vegetarian is a Vampire. Those are vegetarians who drink the blood of the living(usually mammals) to survive the endless night that is their undead existence. They lie and tell you that they only eat vegetables, but what they really want is that crimson colored kool aid that keeps the body going. They drink that stuff like it's a taco bell soda fountain and they just paid for a water cup but fill it with diet pepsi. You see what I'm saying, Juicer? The diet pepsi is blood, and the damned vampires are freeloaders who should have forked over the cash and bought at least a small soda cup. I mean, I paid for a soda cup! Why the hell do they get to steal soda? I mean, I'm right there! I know what the water cups look like. They look different from my $1.59 small soda cup. Just stop stealing soda, Juicer. That's all I'm saying.

2) What is worse than Vampires? Actual legit Vegetarians. They don't eat meat or something. Good God! I'd rather be in a room full of Vampires than a room full of Vegetarians. You know one thing a vampire doesn't have that makes them at the very least bearable to be around? Pamphlets. Vegetarians wreak of pamphlets. They want to change you into being one of them more than a Vampire does. Even more than fundamentalist Christians with those papers that ask if you are saved. Holy crap do I hate pamphlets asking me to not eat meat.

3) What is worse than Vegetarian Vampire's with Pamphlets? Vegans. Sweet Sunny Day Christ, do those guys suck. Those are the vegetarians who have gone off the grid and seen the face of god and it has made them more bat-shit crazy than all of the Rush Limbaugh's of the world. They have seriously lost their minds. Those people don't just not eat meat, but they don't eat something that has been within a hundred yards of meat. Or has the word meat in it. Or has the letters M, E, A or T in the title.
And I'm pretty sure they smell weird. And most of them have dreadlocks and dirty clothes.

4) If a Vegetarian Vampire Vegan like you were talking about in your question has bled on anything you are about to eat, I am pretty sure you are going to die, Juicer. That, or become a right wing fundamentalist. I'm not sure. I think I have forgotten what your question was about. It is so damn cold in here.

5) If you really did bleed on some VeggieVampEgan (new term we should all use)'s food, I am pretty sure they will only want more of your delicious blood and you should quit your job and skip town. They are coming to get you, Juicer. And they have a lot of fucking pamphlets. Get out of there! The proverbial phone call is coming from inside the damn building! Run! But don't come here, it is zero degrees. Let's you and I meet on some beach somewhere, ok?

In the end, Juicer, if you bleed on someone's anything, be it food or even a sweater you borrowed, you should tell them. Unless you got the blood out with a lot of hot water or bleach.
I wouldn't suggest using bleach to clean blood off of food, as it is a poison and will kill people.
And if you do use bleach, please clear the history section of your computer so I cannot be linked to your trail of death.
Remember that eating meat is fun and delicious. And Vegetarian Vampire Vegans are to be feared. Out of irony, I suggest you make a pamphlet and pass it out to people waiting at bus stops to spread awareness of our common enemy.
I know you will do the right thing with my wisdom in your toolbelt.
Goodluck, Juicer. I love you with all my carnivorous might. As do we all.
And no, you should never tell anyone you bled on their food. That is so fucking gross.

Stay awesome!

Your meat eating buddy of the night,