Add one more, and it's a baker's dozen. Thirteen!

Take ten, add four and take away one.
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.
I'm waiting...

-Y.A.!

Friday, March 23, 2007

I am your pole dancer, a dancer for money... Current mood:Tickled pink 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 when i sleep, i dream. when i dream, i dream i am a shooting star crashing into earth. but, is that really possible? arent stars just balls of gas? and if so can they come crashing into anything? and if they are gas, do they smell? or is the smell added later? and if i was a gas, does that mean i couldnt have sex? and if i couldnt have sex, is there a reason for living? and if im not living....well..hum...is gas alive? confused, misty vapors Dear Misty, Stop writing me. I really think you are stupid. Love, Yes Andy! 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' 'I' means you, Misty, and you are the best thing ever! Never let some mean old teacher tell you otherwise. 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, Yes Andy

The one called a dozen.

I'll have one dozen bits of advice from you, YesAndy!
And I give it to you, as I am your only hope for the answers.
-Y.A.!

Friday, March 16, 2007

Three lefts make a right... Current mood:Happy to be here. My Dearest Flock Of Seagulls, I have to be honest with you. I owe it to all of my faithful readers. I just deleted a paragraph containing flowing prose and tales of valiant knights all in the hopes of explaining why I have been gone for so long. I have to admit, I am a very talented wordsmith, and the things I tell you are not meant as mere advice, but rather law that you should pass to your children's children. I think that you deserve the real reason why I have been gone for so long. Why I am sure you thought that I had abandoned you. The answer is simple. As if a child had come up with the reason. In fact, a child did come up with the reason. I went to Asia to become an Animal Doctor and to learn how to shoot lasers out of my eyes. 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! Is it true that left-handed people are better in bed? xo, Righty Dear Righty, 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, Yes Andy!

Eleven is my favorite number.

This is number 11 on the hit parade of YesAndy! flashbacks. By now, you must surely have things to ask me, as my wisdom has only increased with time.
-Y.A.!

Sunday, December 03, 2006

Porky's Revenge... Current mood:Enjoying the spectacles My silver bells of Christmas cheer, Many questions are coming into the Yes Andy Headquarters. I have now taken to answer them in varying degrees of importance. While I do like the bland question now and again, or the random sexual fantasy descriptions, let's veer towards questions that have nothing to do with me. This is about how I can help you with my vast expertise on life. I'm shoulder to lean on in a world filled with people who were born without shoulders. Let's help out 'Porky' shall we? I think we will all find that to be comforting. Take my hand, and I will lead you to tomorrow.Here, read this: Dear Yes, Andy!, Every year I go on a camping trip with a big group of friends, and this summer a bunch of new people came. Sam and I share the annual tradition of stopping into town on our way to the park and getting a cartful of sausages, wieners, and other things that keep well in a natural casing. Part of the tradition includes finding room in everyone's cooler for the stuffed intestines. (The vegetarians are a particular target since the foot longs fit so snugly between their French rolls.) Well, this summer, as we were rummaging in some random cooler under the food tarp, some skirt taps me on the shoulder and says, "Just what do you think you're about to do?" So I turned around and told her, "Lady, I'm porkin' your box." Well, she didn't like that too much. Unfortunately, she's a friend of a friend, you see, and now every time I see her she snubs me. Yes, Andy!, what can I do, shy of apologizing, to alleviate this social tension? Sincerely, PorkyDear Porky, I'm going to go out on a limb here and assume that you are 13 years old. I'd start off with my usual 'Hell if I know…' but actually, I do know. You are not looking in the right place for help, because I don't tell people what they want to hear, I tell them what they need to hear. Porky, there are just so many things wrong with your message. I'll start by giving you five things to think about before you go on your next camping trip. Yes Andy likes camping by the way, but camping with you sounds super lame. This will help: 1) Ask yourself if Sam is a real person. I'm not gonna lie to you, Porky, I know a lot of people named Sam, and none of them exist. This reason alone is why I don't talk about Sam. Or any of the Sams I know. You would do better to avoid telling people your imaginary friend's name. 2) There are only so many things in natural casing that are available at the supermarket. None of these products should be the basis of any kind of 'tradition'. You might want to look into a potato sack race or a game of capture the flag during your camping trips. These are fun ways to institute a tradition that do not involve heavily processed meat product. You can also play the games with real people. Sam can come too, but tell him/her that you want to play with some of the other kids. At first, Sam will be mad, maybe even hurt. And if he/she tells you to hurt the other kids while they are sleeping, just remember that it is a natural reaction of all imaginary friends to try and weed out the competition. Killing is always wrong, Porky. Always. 3) Yes Andy needs to quote you now: "Part of the tradition includes finding room in everyone's cooler for the stuffed intestines. (The vegetarians are a particular target since the foot longs fit so snugly between their French rolls.)" Do you know any card games? A game of hearts or old maid is a fun way of starting a tradition. Sam might be telling you lots of things right now. I am not lying, and I am not trying to hurt you. I just think that there are lots of things you could do instead of trying to put meat in coolers to make some memories. Will you want to look back in 20 years at the time you got 5 extra ballpark franks into that igloo cooler, or would you rather remember that one time you were sitting by the campfire and you beat everyone at skipbo? And though I do understand the humor of 13 year olds, I think it is mean to pick on vegetarians. Even though their choice has assured them a place in hell. I kid, I kid. Seriously, though. Meat is awesome. 4) Calling women 'skirts' will never get you kissed by one, Porky. Also, you should think about changing your name, as no girl would ever want to be known as 'The girl who frenched Porky'. That kind of stigma stays with a kid. You should change your name to Chad or Cheryl. Then you will get freaky play from all the ladies. Unfortunately, Sam will try and exact his/her revenge late at night. Stay away from sharp objects, Porky. I think Sam is trying to hurt you. 5) Porking your box isn't funny. Not even when you are 13. Instead of saying that, next time say "I'm about to touch the hand of the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. That is if she will let me…"(because you always ask permission, Porky, no matter what Sam says).Porky, you said that the girl you said the porking your box line to is a friend of a friend. This means she is not your friend. Why are you so worried? If I were you (and I'm not) I would be terrified of being all alone at the next 'traditional campout' In fact, I would be terrified of being 35 years old and still listening to what Sam is telling me. You go to the next dance that they hold in your cafeteria. Meet a nice girl and marry her. But remember, if you take her camping and end up having sex with her, you will get killed by a masked killed. Whose name is probably Sam. Enjoy those Hot dogs, kiddo! Oh, and just apologize for being a creepy weirdo to the girl under the food tarp. You should have made out with her instead of being a knob. Stay Awesome, porky! Your Son of Sam, Yes Andy!

We have now reached ten people.

We made it to ten. This is amazing! I wonder what the future holds?
-Y.A.!

Saturday, December 02, 2006

A soapy lather... Current mood:Getting ready for a shower... Citizens of the planet, Looks like the word is spreading, and for that, I thank you. Answering your questions is like a really good cup of coffee right when you wake up in the morning. You know, when you actually take the time to prep the machine the night before, then program it to start brewing just as your alarm is going off? You make me feel like dancing, so I am the whiskey in the barrel around the neck of your St. Bernard. Also, I am drinking whiskey, so I am in essence- Drinking myself. Have a sip, won't you?This one comes from a woman named Brady. She's been burned. Enjoy! Dear YES, ANDY! I have had a problem with having a lot of razor burn under my arms and in other areas and I don't know how to get my skin to get used to it. Is there a way to shave without getting razor burn or anything that may help get rid of it? Thanks, Brady Dear Brady, Hell if I know, but if I were a guy who uses razors (which I am), I'd give my delicate skin a stern talking to. Using, of course, my razor sharp wit…Here are some things you can do to make your smooth parts smoother and your hairy parts not so hairy. Strap yourself in. 1) Use a super sharp razor every time you shave. Sometimes, you cannot find humor in shaving. Sorry. 2) I am a big fan of using lots of shaving cream or gel. In fact, if you think you have just enough, use more. Use a lot more. Use so much shaving cream that it looks like your armpits or whatever you are shaving has rabies. Want a fun idea to pass the time while you are in the shower? Cover your entire body in shaving cream. Pretend that you are a cake person, and your skin is actually made of icing. Fight the urge to lick yourself, as it is not really icing, and you are not in fact made of cake. 3) Speaking of things to do in the shower when you are bored, invite someone you find attractive over to shower with you. Have sex in the shower. You can also incorporate the 'cake person' scenario with them. You will probably have a lot of fun role playing, as the person you invited over could play the part of the "Naughty Baker" and the only way they can get 'clean' is by fucking a cake person…I don't know, I'm just throwing out ideas. 4) Try using hair conditioner as a shaving lubricant. It makes your skin soft, and might help reduce the burn. Again, I feel you have options. Funny or not. 5) Stop shaving altogether. There are people who are into that. Yes Andy! Isn't one of them, but I'm not the only fish in the sea. I'm just the only one who matters. Brady, I think you need to change up the brands you use for shaving supplies. But more importantly, you need to change your attitude. Have a positive outlook on things before you bet into the shower. You might find that your subconscious is making you shave a bit too hard or maybe too fast. Slow and steady wins the race, Brady. Relax a bit. Have a glass of wine, lather up and do it nice and slow. Take pictures to help you feel sexy. Or invite someone over and do a photo shoot. Yeah. That's the best advice. Do that. I'm glad I chose to help you, Brady. And I am looking forward to those pictures. Remember, change your shaving lubricant to a shaving lubri-can. Stay Awesome, Brady! Your Naughty Baker, Yes Andy!

Ninth old advice bit.

The ninth installment. From back in the day.

-Y.A.!

Tuesday, November 28, 2006

It's pronounced: Pen-oose. It's french... Current mood:Keeping mine in my pants... Hey Panda Bears, The people demand my wisdom, and much like city hall, you can't fight it. I am your public servant, and you are my masters. Whip me, beat me, and write me bad checks. You know the old saying. Anyway, this one comes from a bird that calls herself 'Poked and hating it'. Looks like my work is cut out for me on this one… As always, you ask, I answer. Ours is a forbidden love. But I will always call you in the AM. Welcome to your newest Yes Andy! Thing: Dear Yes Andy, I am in a play and have to simulate sex on stage, the man I must do this with has been poking me with his little soldier who is always at attention and it is making me very uncomfortable, what do I do? Signed, 'Poked and hating it' Dear Poked, Hell if I know, but if I were an actor (which I am), I would be worrying about how good I look in the sex scene. I am certain that all the women that write to Yes Andy! Are hot bits of lady. So I'm sure you don't have that problem. I tend to attract the attractive, you know? Much like Jesus did way back when. And like the Jesus, it is my cross to bear. Enough about me. You have a penis-poking problem. Have you ever read the bible or gone to Catholic School? Well, I know people who have done both. These people have told me that acting is evil and goes against God. I'm not sure where I'm going with that, but I have space to fill and you still have a penis-poking problem. Anyways, I think they might have been Baptists. Here are some things that you could try to get this guy's attention without making it all about the penis…poking problem… I don't think that will stop being funny to me. Enjoy! 1) If you are still in rehearsals for this production, you have many options. This is the first one: Be upfront about it to him. Don't beat around the bush (no pun intended). Tell him that he needs to masturbate before each performance so he doesn't get aroused during the scene. He's a fucking actor, he shouldn't be so method. Tell him to do this at home before he gets to the theatre. No one needs to see that in the green room. 2) During the sex scene, grab a mouse trap that you have secretly placed within arms reach. When the offensive little member hits you, let the trap spring into action. He will never get an erection around you or any woman again. 3) If mutilation isn't your bag, fuck with his head. You are a theatre chick, right? Right. Well get creative. Go to the kitchen and whip up a batch of fake blood. Place the fake blood in a zip lock bag and put it in your underpants. Then, when he begins the Penis poking problem..heh... you open up the bag and let loose the floodgates. Start screaming like he stabbed you and cry out "I was a virgin!" this will make other people laugh and make him lose his erection in a very speedy manner. Talk this over with your stage manager, so they can have some cleaning supplies at the ready. 4) That last one was kind of gross. If you are touchy about being called 'bloody mary' for the rest of the run of the show, you can try this: when his problematic penis starts poking you, stop the scene and punch him in the face. Call him a pervert and then cut off his dick. You may go to jail for a while, but you will get a lot of press and become the subject of a trivial pursuit question. 5) Tell him offstage just before the scene that you are really into him, and that you wish it were real. Also mention that you want to call him Cheryl. Tell him that it is your father's middle name and that you like it kinky and really fucking weird. I gave similar advice to a plant just yesterday. During the scene, whisper that you'd like to see him in a pretty dress with flowers on it, and use the name Cheryl before every sentence. 'Cheryl, I think that the war in Iraq is wrong' 'Cheryl, I think I forgot to turn off the TV before I left for rehearsal' 'Cheryl, I'm pregnant with your little Cheryl babies. We should call each of them Cheryl, Cheryl.' When he thinks you are sufficiently fucked up in the head, he will lose his wood, because sex with a crazy girl isn't worth it. I'm just kidding, of course it is. Poked, I think you need to take a few minutes and try to put yourself in his shoes. After all, he is just a man. Men are silly and think about sex a lot. And when you are acting like you are having sex, it's kind of like all the dry humping we all used to do in Junior High. You could talk to the director too, but I wouldn't make a big deal out of this. I really stand by my #5 suggestion. I know that you have been helped. And I will sleep better tonight with the thought that I have solved your penis poking problem. Damn. You're screwed. Just kidding! Cut his dick off! Stay Awesome, Poked! Your most valued member, Yes Andy!

Eight, Eight, The burning Eight.

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.

-Y.A.!

Tuesday, November 28, 2006

Putting the green in...Something green. Current mood:Digging life's garden. It's a little wild and a little strange…When you make your home out on the range… Hey Dude(s)! The train keeps on rolling down the track with this little ditty from the swinging streets of Uptown. It seems the world's most eligible foliage needs some guidance. And guidance he shall receive. IN ABUNDANCE.Enjoy. The names have not been changed due to the fact that it is a plant. Keep it coming, folks. I'm here for you. Dear Yes, Andy!, I have a problem that I hope you can help me with: I slept with a girl the other night and now she wants to be my girlfriend. But I can't be havin' a girlfriend, man. I'm motherfuckin' Steven Seagal, the swinginest Spathiphyllum in all of Uptown. I don't want no girl following me around and shit. What do I do? sincerely, "Peeved and Leaved" Dear 'Peeved and Leaved', Hell if I know, but if I were a botanist (which I am), I would sit you on my knee and give you an emotional pruning that you won't soon forget. So. You are a plant. Named Steven Seagal. Ok. I can work with that. And by the looks of things, so can all the ladies in fucked up sexual perversion land.If I live to be a 100, I won't be able to work out the logistics of how a plant can type; know its own genus name; sleep with girls and not know how to let her down easy. Thank the Norse Gods I am here at 2 in the AM drinking coffee and thinking how to help out. Here are some things you can do to make her think you are not 'all that' and that she needs to move on and work on her people skills. 1) Though your name is Steven Seagal, she might think that you are the actual Steven Seagal: Highly acclaimed movie star and martial arts enthusiast. Take a trip to the local Bollywood video and pick up 'Under Siege 2' Invite her over, and make her watch it. That alone will make her run for the hills, because you will tell her that it is your favourite movie. Everyone will laugh, including the studio audience, because we all know that 'Hard to Kill' was the fucking bomb. 2) Tell her that you have some form of plant herpes or cholera. 3) Pee with the door open. Most women do not like this, and it makes them think you are a savage beast. If this does not work, you should sneak into the bathroom after she uses it and put the toilet seat up. Every time. And then scream at her. She will get confused and after a while she will think it is her fault. Then you sit her down and tell her you are not into chicks that pee standing up. 4) Insist on calling her Cheryl. Tell her it was your Mother's middle name and it makes you really horny. Also, start calling every woman you meet when you are around this girl Cheryl too. After a while, start sighing loudly after you say the name. In fact, after a few days, start calling guys Cheryl. Then start barking or something. 5) Tell her that your sun rises and sets with her, but that you are super scared of the sun, because it is a giant ball of fire that threatens to consume your world. If she is nice at all, she will not want to scare you anymore. Being scary is no good in relationships. Steven, I know this may be hard for you to accept, but everyone has a shelf life. You might want to consider settling down and starting a family. I'm kidding, Steve! You are a plant! That's just silly. Everyone knows that plants are nature's whores. Plants are sexual predators, and you are just doing what your DNA tells you. I do suggest that you use protection and go to the clinic every six months. I am so glad I could help you, Steven. Remember: You are not just a plant, you are THE plant. Stay Awesome, Steven! Your fertilizer of the soul, Yes Andy!

Seven. The Seventh old advice. Just after six.

MMMM!

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.

-Y.A.!

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? 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), Yes Andy!