Friday, January 23, 2009

Seven. The Seventh old advice. Just after six.


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!
Current mood:Right on.

Goodevening Masters & Mistresses.
I'm a bit backed up in questions, but I will try to tackle them all by the end of this weekend. Bear with me, Yes Andy! is but one man, and no man is an island. This one comes from Poolie. She asked a simple one, which I am going to answer to prove that you don't have to send me deep thoughts, nor do they have to be funny. I'll be funny enough for the both of us. Keep on asking!

Dear Yes, Andy!,

Since you are a betting man...I'm curious...
what are my chances?

Dear Poolie,
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?
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),
Yes Andy!

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