Saturday, January 31, 2009
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).
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?
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
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?
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
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:
Sometimes I get the song "Girlfriend" by Avril Lavigne stuck in my
head for hours and hours. I hate it. What should I do?
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!"
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
Sunday, January 25, 2009
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
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'
If you bleed into food that a vegetarian (but not Vegan) is going to consume, do you have to disclose that information?
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.
Your meat eating buddy of the night,
That is a word problem of YesAndy! Proportions. At least for this golden oldie...
Note that this post is the last of the old ones.
Now we begin a new chapter in helping people help themselves by asking me to help them.
All we need now is for someone to ask for help.
Friday, March 23, 2007
I am your pole dancer, a dancer for money...
My Tasters of Choice,
I long for the day when no one needs my advice or has any questions. But until that day, I will always put you up on a pedestal and throw opinion rocks at you till you fall onto a pillow of understanding. I make you feel better because you make me feel better. Let's keep it up. Tell your friends that I can help them, or that I am an easy way to pass the time. Some of the messages sent to me are from people who have been in my presence. This could be you. It is a nice place to be, because I am so supportive and honest.
This next query comes from a girl named 'Misty Vapors'. While I know that there are about a million jokes running through your head having to do with strippers, I will rise above the nonsense and try to not take us down a road more traveled by Junior High School students… Just kidding. It's totally a stripper name, right? Here's her question and what I had to say so she felt like a natural woman:
dear mr. yes
Stop writing me. I really think you are stupid.
Awww, come on, I'm just pulling your leg! This is a place where we all can relax and make with the nice! Here's my real response:
Dearest Miss Vapors,
Hell if I know. In fact, seriously, what did you just say? I'm all for run on sentences and I think that they are awesome and cool and super sweet if you use them correctly, but sometimes I use them incorrectly and I feel bad but you have to understand that I never said that I would use anything that I learned in English class here in this advice forum. Comma splices are fucking rad too!
Misty, if I were a man of science (which I am) I would tell you first that 'shooting stars' are actually meteors, not stars. You are right, though, stars are balls of gas. After that, you went on some tangent about how you want to get laid or something. I can help you get laid, but I cannot help you with the astronomy lesson you want me to prepare you. I often hear after intimate 'astronomy lessons' that the ladies under my tutelage have 'seen stars' or 'felt the Earth move' but you have really made those analogies seem perverted and strange… I forgive you, but remember these five things:
1. Your dreams, as real as they may seem, are actually illusions that your brain is creating to get you to go back to school and take an English course. For example: at the beginning of each new sentence, start with a capital letter. Also, when referring to yourself, remember to capitalize the letter 'I'
2. I think in #1 I was going to say something about proper nouns. I forget what it was, so I will let you ponder that instead of having a number two.
3. I can dig that you are interested in science, Misty. I think that that is really great. I watch Star Trek sometimes and wonder if 'space' really 'exists'. That was pretty funny how I put quotes on the words space and exists…because we all know that both of those things go against God and all his glory.
4. Remember in #3 when I ended with something that seemed like I was bashing God and or his/her followers? I totally wasn't trying to do that. But to avoid a discussion about my religious beliefs, I will change the subject by saying that I think you may be addicted to sex, Misty.
5. I really am trying to help you, Misty, but I have to be honest with you: I spilled soup on my bedspread while I was writing #2, and I haven't been paying much attention to what I was writing. Soup is a pain to clean up, you know? Also, gas is not alive. That is ridiculous.
The universe is full of crazy questions, Misty. I'm sure that when we all go where we are supposed to in the end, we will get some sort of video that is not unlike a training video you have to watch when you work at a K-mart. In fact, I'm sure that when we are all dead, we are referred to by a nebulous form as 'Team Members' or 'Associates'. And God's sense of humor will be to make us all wear blue vests and help people find the automotive section until the end of time. Getting back to your rant about whatever, Misty: You are a special person who has a lot of potential. You shine just as brightly as any star and you are not made of gas, but rather hugs and sugar. And it is that fact that will help you get all sorts of sex that will make your life worth living.
I cannot believe I spilled my soup.
Stay Awesome, Misty!
Your Ron Jeremy of the night sky,
And I give it to you, as I am your only hope for the answers.
Friday, March 16, 2007
Three lefts make a right...
My Dearest Flock Of Seagulls,
Let that sink in for a moment.
The fact that a five and a half year old came up with the excuse doesn't take away from the fact that I helped a Mommy cat give birth to 8 baby kittens and I wrote 'Yes Andy Rocks!' on the side of a mountain just by staring at it. I did this just before I sat in front of my computing machine to answer a burning question from our dear friend "Righty" Of all the questions I have answered in the past, this one took me by surprise. Enjoy, and remember that there are no rules for this mortal coil, just because I haven't thought them up yet. Also, you will notice that the frequency of my replies will be limited to weekly installments. I'm only doing this because I have so many animals to help and stuff to stare at. 'Righty' asks:
Dear Mr. Yes, Andy!
There are times in this column when my usual 'Hell if I know' opener will not work.
Truth be told, I only started using that phrase to put you at ease right at the start. I am staggeringly intelligent and did not wish to isolate you. I wanted to develop a friendly relationship with you, and maybe with enough followers, have a catchy phrase to put on a T-shirt that people could identify with. Righty, I think you know where I am going with this…
The answer is No. Absolutely not. Left-handed people are an abomination, and go against everything that God designed in the utopia that is the universe.
To even think that Left-Handed people have the right to breed is to invite war and tyranny into what is the well-oiled machine of society.
Your 5 things:
1)As a writer named Andy, I am a man. I can only assume that you are a woman, Righty. A woman who feels that she has had all the right-handed men who know where ladies like to be touched. I assure you that is not the case. You would know if you have been with Yes Andy! That's right… Yes Andy is a 'righty' too. We can usually sense when one of our own kind is nearby. Right-handed people give out a kind of scent that is not unlike the musk a wild beast uses to attract a mate (if only for one night of intense love-making). I won't say that Yes Andy is flavor country, but if I were the sexiest man writing this column (which I am) I'd say that you stumbled on the best tasting man in the opinion giving field. Or an animal doctor. Which I am also.
2) I realize that I might be too hard on left handed people, or as the oppressed Jews in the Old Testament called them: Pharaoh. Yeah, I might be too hard on them. And Moses might have just been 'overreacting'.
3) I remember that one of my ex girlfriends is left handed. Not to use her misfortune as a point, but I heard that she has a baby now and it has a lazy eye. A lazy LEFT eye! Coincidence? I don't think so, Erica! Who's sorry now? Huh? I guess we all can't be as mature as you! Look at me, I'm leaving you for someone who is stable and has a future! My daddy owns a dealership! Yeah, have fun with your lazy eyed bat-child you evil monster! I don't have a heart to break anymore because of your lies!
4) In the defense of Left handed people, I feel I should look to the opinion of a 3rd party. Someone who is neither left nor right handed. That someone is Harry S. Truman, and he is dead now…. Ok, I jut didn't have a 4th thing to write. I'm sorry, it's late and I have had a long day of Animal doctoring…
5) Let's say that left-handers are the Deceptacons and Right-handers are the Autobots. Left-handers have a bunch of construction equipment that turn into a big robot. Lame. But the Right-handed Autobots(the good guys) have the Dinobots which are much cooler. Especially Grimlock who was the leader. All I'm saying is that the Transformer movie looks cool.
Righty, you know I'm just trying to hide the truth behind some flashy pop culture references and some funny bits about my ex-girlfriends ugly chud of a kid, right? We're sharing a few laughs and learning a bit about people who happen to be born with a birth defect. Being left-handed doesn't mean you are better in bed that right handed people. It means you are just 'ok' in bed. I'm super glad that your question could be answered by me. I also have to say that calling me 'Mr. Yes Andy' is making me feel old, so cut that shit out. And by signing with an 'XO' does that mean you want to hug and kiss me? if it does, then XO right back to you and all my readers. Keep those questions rolling in and tell the world that I am back with a vengeance.
Stay Awesome, Righty, or some Lefty will steal your wallet.
Your right hand man,
Sunday, December 03, 2006
My silver bells of Christmas cheer,
Saturday, December 02, 2006
A soapy lather...
Citizens of the planet,
The ninth installment. From back in the day.
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
It's pronounced: Pen-oose. It's french...
Hey Panda Bears,
The fact that eight people had need of advice is astounding enough.
And the fact that I have more help to give is proof that there are gods out there who love us. Because they made me.
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Putting the green in...Something green.
It's a little wild and a little strange…When you make your home out on the range… Hey Dude(s)!
I cannot get enough questions, apparently.
It's a good thing I had the wherewithall to help all these folks. I hope they still think of me from time to time.
Saturday, November 25, 2006
Self absorbed poppycock!
Goodevening Masters & Mistresses.
Dear Yes, Andy!,
Since you are a betting man...I'm curious...
what are my chances?
Hell if I know. In fact, I really don't know. Are you fucking with me? I could take this a million different ways, but I always come back to something sexy. They say that men think of sex every 20 or so seconds, I think this is silly, because there are times when I am in a room full of Nuns. It doesn't happen often, but I assure you, it has. And the last thing I was thinking about was doing the freak nasty with a room full of Jesus Penguins.
What are your chances?
I mean, with me? Pretty damn good if you keep stumping me with this gypsy mind fuck stuff.
I think I am blushing.
I know I am blushing.
I'm a shitty typist and even worse when it comes to grammatical correctness, and you make me go all sdfgoiuhlsrngisngij, sdhgsrihgsr, djfeiodididididi, dhfoidfgdsgfsdgfh: djgfisdifgsdgus&(*&(^%UJ! Did you see how many fucking commas I used in that last phrase?
YOU VEX ME, WOMAN!
But seriously, Poolie, everyone knows that I am a betting man. I make foolish and rash bets on most things. I never thought the internet would become as big as it did. I never imagined that that kid from 8th grade would be so fragile and actually break a bone. I didn't see American Idol becoming so popular.
If I were a handy man, which I am, I would build a love shack where the two of us could meet and drink martinis and eat chocolate off of each others stomachs. But I feel this way for all of my fans, and I am sure a hot little ticket like yourself has been claimed by a man much more virile than myself.
In the interest of science and continuity, I give you five things you can do to up your chances with Yes Andy!
1) Being a carbon based bi-ped of the female persuasion helps. You are well on your way to earning a wink and a smile from yours truly.
2) Believe that the only way to approach any kind of project is with massive amounts of passion. Yes Andy! is a very passionate fellow with interests that span the stars. I have never tried shuffleboard or made chocolate eclairs. I feel that anyone who could teach me how to do either is the future Mrs. Yes! Also, Chocolate eclairs are delicious and probably the best thing ever put on the earth to make us, as humans, happy.
3) Don't be racist. Racism is fucking lame.
4) Out drink me. While this is a frivolous activity, I appreciate a woman who can hold her drink. I like Jameson Irish Whiskey, and sample from its supple teat more than anyone should. This is not a good thing, but I don't want you to think that Yes Andy! is in any way shape or form a 'perfect man'. A perfect man does not exist anywhere in the universe. I will anger and dissapoint you, Poolie. Find me anyone who does not have baggage of anykind, and I will give them some of mine, as they are samsonite and of high quality.
5) Swear like a sailor and like kissing. Above all things, these are the ties that bind any brightly shining star to a path along the burning hunk of sweetness that is Yes Andy!
In all honestly, Poolie, I didn't know what you meant by your question. I could be way off base, but when you are as confident as I am, you have to assume the best.
You threw me for a loop, Poolie. Not many can do that. It might be the cocktail I have been enjoying, or it might be the ding dong of the doorbell of destiny... Who knows?
Yes Andy! doesn't like to talk about himself, but this is how I chose to answer your question. I wish you sweet dreams and handcuffs on the bedpost.
Stay Awesome, Poolie!
Your all you can eat buffet of passion (sans tapeworms),
Sometimes I am in awe of how much the world needs me. If I have a child, I hope it is with every single one of you, so none of you have to worry anymore.
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
I'll get you He-man! Said Ment-or...
Hello again, faithful flock of seagulls.
Remember, these are old advice. I've been gone a while.
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
I'll inspire you. I'll inspire you right to the moon.
Hello citizens of FunkyTown,
I'm gonna stop writing stuff before these older posts. I'm getting a cramp, and I want to make a drink.
Hope you are liking them, though. Newer stuff to come!
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
Are you testing me? Well, I pass!
I should try an be less long winded, but it's just how they wired me at the factory, you know?
Keep reading, and hopefully you are thinking of questions you know I can help you with.
Friday, November 17, 2006
Raging on the road to vengeance.
Hello, my apple dumpling gang.
This message comes from a girl named Benny. I changed her name to avoid litigation, in case she does what I tell her to do. I am an idea man. You choose the follow through. I have to note that the first two questions in this site were from females. I have to say that I am shocked, delighted, and still single. I did think that my first questions would be from guys, because they fuck up thier lives so easily and often.
And so I bring you help number two...
Dear, YES ANDY!
I have road rage and some days its worse than others. Everytime someone forgets to use their turn signal, All I can think about is running them off the road, snapping off the turn signal bar and beating them with it.
Hell if I know, but so far, I like your attitude. Attitude will get you places in this messed up world we live in. It will also get you 10 to life in a federal pen if you do what your first instinct is when drivers piss you off.
Rule number one, and this is before they teach you the ABC's or how to share coloured plastic toys: People are big fuck off jerks when they get behind the wheel of a horseless buggy.
If I were driving, and some jerk hole flipped the wrong switch, I'd pull a knife on them and cut thier belly. But I am not driving. You are. And since you don't have a knife on you like Yes, Andy! does, I will give you five ways to calm your shit down. Enjoy.
1) The calming effect of Pot is one that I endorse. In fact, when I smoke the reefer, I get sleepy and forget to drive anywhere. Or I start watching a movie, which you cannot do while driving anyway. Unless you are in one of those SUV's with the lcd displays in the seats. In which case you are part of the problem, and should be pulled over, not for smoking pot or watching a movie, but for being an asshole with lcd screens in your car. Donate money to charity, you dick. Pot is, and always will be natures way of saying: 'Dude, take a break. Eat a twinkie. You deserve it' Now, what was I saying? Oh yeah. Number 2.
2) Try counting to 300,000. While this is not an impossible task, you will find that is is mentally taxing and you end up angrier than you would be if the old lady in front of you is doing 35 in a 65 zone. This allows you to put things into perspective, and you end up happier somehow.
3) Own at least one album by the following bands, and keep them in your glove box to play at a moments notice. Queen, The Beach Boys, Aerosmith, Negativeland, The Rolling Stones. These albums have things called 'songs' on them. Songs are meant to be sung along to, and singing makes you happy. Even if you suck at it.
4) Red rope licorice isn't just a good idea on paper. It is a fucking awesome idea in your tummy. There is not one thing that can piss you off on your morning or afternoon commute that red rope licorice cannot make better. That shit is fucking unbelievable. Garth from Wayne's World had his shit together. Also, listen to Bohemian Rhapsody while you are eating it. That movie is funny.
5) Drive naked. This may be hard at first, but once it becomes part of your routine, you will find that drive time is sexy time. And who doesn't like times that are sexy? Or Wayne's World? Seriously?!
Benny, you can do other things too. Road bingo. Always a hit.
Or you could only drive on Sundays. Then you would get that Sunday drive feel without any artificial flavour. Here in Minneapolis, we have a huge parkway system that takes like two hours to drive all the way around. Moving here is always an option, because the drivers don't look at you differently when you are driving naked. They don't even make eye contact with you, it isn't polite.
I sure am glad I could help you and answer your question with detailed brilliance. Tell your other myspace friends that I'm here and that I helped you change your life for the better. Now go get naked and grab the keys!
Stay Awesome, Benny!
Your Dream Man,