(this came in today as a lovely Mother’s Day “Go Ask Aunt Becky”)

For someone so seemingly irreverent, alternative and open minded, you truly revealed your small, narrow colors in your recent contribution to the “momversation” about letting your son wear a tutu outside of the house.

Why shouldn’t this be absolutely OK? Why wouldn’t you be an educated mom and teach your son that intolerance should be fought against, and not hidden? Why are you hiding your own homophobia behind a “not everybody is as open minded as our family?” stance.

An openminded family wouldn’t care that their son is making a statement outside of the house. They would support their independence and bravery. What if your son did turn out gay? I’m sure that – watching your blog as an older gay man – he would be horrified at your parenting skills. Something that I’m not sure you’re aware of.

Anyways, I don’t have a question. And I’m sorry if this sounds so angry – but it really pisses me off when I see seemingly educated moms spreading such misinformation in a public forum.

Dear Prankster,

Last I checked, I’ve never actually called myself, “irreverent,” or “alternative.”

And, I’m not sure you’re aware that my son has – several times, in fact – gone out of the house in a tutu. He owns and wears several different shirts clearly designed for girls and is currently sporting some pretty rad toenail polish.

Why should I care if he wants to wear these things outside of the house? Simply put, I don’t. I never have. I’ve not lost sleep about it and I don’t plan to start. The kid is awesome.

I’m not exactly sure why you sent me this email (three times, no less) but I’d guess that you have me confused with the moderator of the video. Either way, your email was not only unfair, but it was untrue. I’ll cop to plenty of “I’m a shitty mother” charges, but this isn’t one of them.

I would – and do – support any of his fashion choices and his ability to be himself, regardless of the social consequences. Will there be social consequences? I don’t know. But I’m aware that the possibility is there.

That said, I said (on the video and in real life) that I’d get my kid’s back no matter what happens and it’s true. If he’s gay? Fucking fantastic. If he’s not gay? Fucking fantastic.

I care about his happiness, not about who he chooses to love.

Not sure how any of this has to do with homophobia or anything else I’m not, but you remind me of a person I once met so entirely convinced that the world was Out To Get Him that he saw hatred and racism everywhere he went. In turn, people avoided him because he was such a fuckbag.

Turns out, you do reap just what you sow.

Love Always,

Aunt Becky

Hi Auntie Becky!

I hope you don’t mind my calling you that because I see only one aunt on my mom’s side because of distance, and the relatives on my dad’s side of the family except for my Uncle Steve and his wife Heather consider me the spawn of Satan. I also have one honorary aunt and uncle. So I have three people who allow me to call them “Aunt” or “Auntie.”

I would consider it the utmost honor if you were to contemplate being my fourth aunt I’m allowed to claim. My twin brother is allowed to claim the 13,000 or so (I would say 144,000 except that they’re Mormons and not Jehovah’s Witnesses) on my dad’s side, so your inclusion would help to even the score between my brother and me ever so slightly. Please don’t agree to be my twin brother Matthew’s Aunt Becky because absolutely nothing would be gained in the name of approaching equality if you were to do so.

I told you a convoluted story earlier that I assume reached your site (primarily because someting to the effect of “your message has been received” popped up after I clicked on the “ask” button) concerning multiple fractured bones, an attempted sexual assault, a broken prom date from last year, and another proposed prom date for this year. (If for some reason the message did not reach you, consider yourself lucky. It’s a truly depressing saga.)

I’m a bit unsure as to the format for receiving answers. Are questions addressed in your regular column on a more or less weekly basis, or does it happen more randomly, or do the replies appear somewhere other than at this site?

Are you able to answer most of the questions submitted to you, or are you so inundated, as was the late “Ann Landers” AKA Esther Pauline Friedman Lederer,*** that receiving a reply from you is a “luck of the draw” sort of thing, the odds of which are the approximate equivalent of getting one’s hands on one of Willie Wonka’s much-coveted golden tickets?

If I seem not quite in possession of the few faculties I ordinarily possess, it is because a therapist at my inpatient mental health treatment facility just gave me Klonopin because I had an especially vivid and persistent flashback nightmare. I’ve been granted access to my laptop while we’re waiting around for the Klonopin to kick in and have its usual effect of making me fall asleep.

I usually can’t have my laptop between the hours of 11:30 p.m. and 6:00 a.m. I’m not usually under the influence of mood-altering substances because my psychiatrist believes that the figurative demons that haunt me are best treated with forms of cognitive therapy.

He prescribes drugs only for extreme situations. An extreme situation is defined around here as one in which the staff manning the main desk between the hours of 11:30 p.m. and 6:00 a.m. are required to put down their People magazines, smartphones, or TWIGHLIGHT novels and deal with problems we adolescent***** patients are experiencing.

We are expected not to experience problems during these graveyard hours. We’re supposed to be asleep now so that the facility can maintain a light staff during these times and so that the staff who are inconvenienced by having to work these hours can be compensated for the incovenience of working the graveyard shift by being free to use their Smartphones, to read their books or magazines, or to sleep at the front desk in relative peace. They should not be supervising or dealing with crazy adolescent***** patients during these hours.

If we had any manners or any sense of decorum whatsoever, we would have the decency to schedule nightmares, flashbacks, and panic attacks between the hours of 7:00 a.m and 10:45 p.m.

The reason I am pestering you at this hour, in addition to the simple fact that I can, is that I am sincerely interested in seeking your opinion regarding the advisability of accepting the prom date offer that has been extended.

The boy who invited me deserves a timely response. This does not mean, of course, that either your customary schedule for the delivery of replies or your usual method of selecting which questions merit responses should be altered in any way. My emergency is not inherently your emergency.

If there is, however, a way I can be informed as to the likelihood of a forthcoming reply, as well as the time and site at which said reply might arrive if indeed my question is selected to be adressed by you or your staff of worker bees, such would be highly beneficial both to me and to the boy who was kind enough to extend the prom invitation.

This is, of course, assuming the prom invitation was extended sincerely and was not just one more big fat joke created for the purpose of making my otherwise miserable existence even more pathetic than it already is. The last comment, by the way, was facetious in part, although is also reflective of the level of paranoia that plagues me from time to time.

The boy is more nerdy than I, if it is possible to be more nerdy than I. The one thing in this whole mess of which I should be relatively certain is that his invitation is sincere.

Still, what should be and what actually are sometimes are not necessarily one and the same. The weird set of circumstances that have befallen me have caused me at times to question, sometimes jokingly but at other times with more than a hint or seriousness, whether the universe is truly out to get me.

In conclusion to this bizarre missive, which if read by any of those who have power to impact my course of treatment, may result in my inpatient treatment continuing until I reach the age of thirty-one, I have a simple request.

If you have an opinion as to whether a school prom is a place a person should go who was physically injured, had a prom date broken off as a result of the physical injuries, and then was physically attacked in an unrelated incident, with an attempted sexual assault thrown into the mix, followed by a brick projected through my bedroom window, the benefit of your wisdom would be appreciated.

If you find any or all of this difficult to believe, you are not alone. My therapist at this facility found the story so incredulous that she wouldn’t even take my parents’ words as adequate validations. My high school counselor had to vouch for the authenticity of my story.

Your loyal reader,

Alexis

Dear Alexis,

I should hope that I can adopt you, seeing as I think you’re not only incredibly hilarious, you’re Mormon, which means you might actually stand a chance at getting these tired bones into Heaven some day. And I will refuse Matthew’s request to be HIS Aunt Becky because, well, obviously.

I don’t generally have any order to the questions that I answer and unless the answer is something that eludes even my magical fingers, I answer everything I get. Eventually.

Also: I don’t believe I received an email from you before or I’d have answered it. Because we’re related and all that shit.

SO.

Should you accept a prom date after your hideously disastrous prom last year?

I say yes. Prom, I remember, was a lot of fun. Although, I missed one of the proms because I was too wasted to get there.

(this is me telling you not to drink or do drugs, lest you end up like Old Aunt Becky.)

That said, I can see how prom might bring up old memories and make you feel all flashbackish and that, of course, is no good.

So I think you must make a Pro/Con list and figure out if it’s better TO go than to sit at home and not go.

You can even COLOR CODE it.

(my inner nerd swoons)

Let me know what you decide to do. Hopefully, I’m not too late. I’d planned to write your question last weekend but was stuck, incapacitated on the couch, vomiting into a hat.

————-

Pranksters? Any advice for our Prankster friend? Should she go to prom after a vicious assault last year?

Also: in an entirely unrelated question, what constitutes an “emotional affair?” I’m not asking for me or anything, I’m just not sure I understand the term and I want to before I answer a separate Go Ask Aunt Becky.

Dear Aunt Becky,

Who is the Mormon-Faced kid from American Idol?

Oh you mean the one I talked about on Friday?

(frantically googles)

MORMON FACE.

That guy. Kris Allen. He’s the Mormon-Faced kid from American Idol.

Tell me I’m not right.

Dear Aunt Becky,

This is probably a stupid question, but…

I would love to post on Band Back Together, but I can’t figure out how. Do you have to register on the website? Is there some kind of “submit post” button I’m missing?

Am I just a huge fucking idiot who can’t figure out something totally obvious?

That is most assuredly NOT a stupid question, Prankster. It’s a weird concept and we’re working on a new site design to make it a little…easier for everyone involved. But I don’t have it up yet, so just bear with me. (also: April’s BB2G theme is up!)

So, you go to the main screen, Band Back Together.com, right?

Looks like this:

For the how to contribute guidelines, well, it’s a little hard to read, but that’s all the boring stuff about how to write a wordpress post (it’s a brief, semi-decent wordpress tutorial), disclaimers, all the other stuff.

It also has a brief explanation of how to register for the site, which you must do to post anything. This box is found on the sidebar of the blog. Your other WordPress accounts will not (unfortunately) transfer, so you must register here.

It’ll take you to a log-in page. Register there.

You can change your password at any time, but your username cannot, so choose something you like.

When you are done, click the Register Button.

You must use a valid email address.

Why?

Your password (a jumbled up mixture of letters and numbers) will be emailed to you. Once you log-in for the first time, change your password.

Once on the site, click “Profile” from the sidebar. From there, you have a ton of different options.

If you want a link to your blog, add both first and last name (can be made up) and blog URL if you want your posts to link back to your blog.

If you want a custom avatar, instead of the generic monster-y looking one WordPress will assign you, go here.

If you need more instructions for how to post on a WordPress blog, please go here, to the wordpress tutorial. Any other questions, let me know.

Dear Aunt Becky,

My (adult) sisters are fighting – the kind of clawing at your soul, crying wracking sobs because it seems like it’ll never be ok, echoes forever fighting that you hope never to be a part of, ever.  Of course, each thinks the other is to blame, and (of course), they are both a little bit right.  Each of them has done hurtful things to the other, and the repercussions of those hurtful things seem never ending.

One did apologize and try to stitch a relationship back together, but it was thrown back in her face; the other thinks she has done nothing to apologize for and feels our family is blaming her for sticking up for herself.

It is just one of those situations where I am totally helpless, and yet everyone expects me to have the answer.  I’d like to help them, they’ve both asked me for help, but I am completely clueless as to how to do that when everything I say seems – to them – as if I am taking sides.  I don’t want to take sides, I just want things to get better.

I thought you, or your Pranksters, might have some suggestions for helping two sisters, who I know love each other but are just so hurt right now, to come back together.

I really appreciate any ideas you might have ~ thanks!

Sighs.

Families.

Can’t live with ’em, can’t kill ’em.

Sorry to hear you’re being put in the middle of something that doesn’t have a thing to do with you. That’s a pile of bullshit right there.

Now, I’m sure the Pranksters will have plenty to say, but my advice to you is to make it clear that you are not taking sides. Unless you want to ally yourself with one of your sisters (thereby alienating the other), I don’t see any other alternative beyond declaring yourself neutral.

You’re not responsible for fixing any problems but your own, no matter how much you want to. Sometimes, the best thing to do is to stay back and let the fight take it’s course.

I’m really sorry I don’t have a better answer.

Pranksters?

Dear My Aunt Becky,

I am in my late 20’s and a virgin.  This is not something that has happened intentionally.  I am not saving it for marriage or anything like that.  It just hasn’t happened yet.

I have recently started dating someone.  We have gone on four dates, the most ever with one person for me.  I really like him, and kind of want to jump him.  The thing is, I feel like at my age I should know far more then I am going to. So I am torn.  Do I tell him of my condition before the fact?  I am concerned that if I do, I will scare him off, but if I don’t, he will just think I am exceptionally bad in bed, and it will scare him off.

What’s a girl to do?

As someone who has, in her day, had The Sex with people who did not deserve to stick their naughty bits in my own, I think that being a virgin is kinda awesome.

I’d be willing to bet that anyone who likes you will appreciate that about you.

If I were in your shoes, I’d go the honesty route. If it scares him off, fuck him. There is NOTHING shameful about being a virgin. Really, then he’ll know how to make sure your first time is special.

I bet he’ll find it charming.

Do let us know what you decide, Dear Prankster.

Dear Aunt Becky.

So this may not be a totally unusual situation but I need answers. The other day my friend turned 35 and was the recipient of lots of love and adoration. Her hubby and friends threw her a surprise party and he surprised her with a beautiful bracelet. I am green with envy..

I’m several years older than her and have been married for 13 years, my no good lazy asshole hubby has never surprised me.

What should I do to attain my life long dream of having someone throw my a surprise party and shower me with adoration and gushing for just one night?

Yours,

Unappreciated of South GA.

Here’s my advice: tell your husband what you want. In no uncertain terms: “I’d like you to a surprise party sometime, like my friend had. That would mean a lot to me.”

I know, I KNOW, it kinda defeats the purpose of a “surprise” party, but honestly, some members of BOTH sexes (myself included)(I have a vagina, just in case you were curious) can be pretty thick about that stuff. I’d, for one, be shocked if someone had been pining for a surprise party. Why? I’d rather saw off my toes than have one thrown FOR me.

Maybe that’s how your husband feels about them.

Also: some people are more thoughtful than others. Sounds like your friend’s husband is particularly thoughtful, which is a win for her, but hard to watch when you live with someone who isn’t.

Clue him in, see what happens.

And, if all else fails, go the Aunt Becky Route: throw yourself a party, buy yourself something exorbitantly sparkly and enjoy it because you bought it yourself.

Dear Aunt Becky,

I started watching Grey’s Anatomy last season so I don’t know whether it’s just the actress who plays Meredith or whether this is done on purpose but (excuse any spoilers) she doesn’t seem to be very upset about her miscarriage, neither does Derek for that matter.

I mean, she miscarried at an incredibly traumatic time for her but she seems to be very que sera about it.

Derek asked why didn’t she tell him so he could help her to get through it, but the line made it sound like she was already over it. And this was in the second episode!

A couple of weeks ago I was on your fabulous new website Band Back Together and i was truly touched by the stories I read from some women who did miscarry.

I don’t have any kids and I haven’t ever had a miscarriage so I’m curious about Merdith’s portrayal of her storyline and was wondering whether you could shed some light on it for me.

Is it just bad acting? Or is it just different for different people?

This is me, treading VERY lightly and asking other Pranksters to weigh in.

I’ve had two miscarriages in my life, back-to-back, actually, right before I got pregnant with Amelia. At the time it happened, it was a horrible hormonal roller coaster. When I got pregnant the third month in a row and started spotting right away, I flipped my shit. My progesterone, which hadn’t been a problem in previous pregnancies, was low. Insert suppositories, pray for the best. It was touch and go.

In that way, my miscarriages were traumatic for me during my pregnancy with Amelia.

While I experienced those two early miscarriages, I was sad. Now, I rarely think about them.

That sounds cold, but I don’t mean it that way. I got my daughter out of it. She wouldn’t be here without having had those two miscarriages.

Since I’m the last person on the planet to watch Grey’s Anatomy, I’m not sure what her reaction to the miscarriage was, but different people handle things differently. There’s no right or wrong way to grieve a loss – any loss.

—————-

I’ll be VERY interested to hear your reactions to these questions, Pranksters.

Dear Aunt Becky,

Do you make the Cancer is Bullshit shirts in men’s sizes?

Why yes, yes I do, thank you for asking. In fact, here are ALL the shirts I make. I’m considering doing a child-sized one too, because, well, cancer IS bullshit. I’m running a contest, actually, where you can WIN one of those fancy shirts.

Details here.

Dear Aunt Becky,

I keep telling myself that this question might be really dumb because it doesn’t necessarily involve me but I honestly have no idea what to do.

I work in a bakery in a local grocery store in a very small town. My co-worker (we’ll call her A), and I are somewhat close and I do consider her a friend. She has a habit that I don’t agree with, though. You see … she likes to flirt with and come on to married men (SO NOT MY STYLE). I figure if that’s her cup of tea then fine, since she hasn’t necessarily pursued anything more than flirtation. She is recently divorced and I feel like maybe she wants to explore this new-found attention from men, but I’ve given her the benefit of the doubt that she wouldn’t ruin someone’s marriage over it.

Lately, however, she’s been cozying up overly much to our store manager, or as we’ll call him, B (read: everyone’s boss) is MARRIED to another employee/manager of our store, who we can call C. C is not in the same department with A and myself but … I just feel like she is starting to cross a line. This man has a family, has a reputation and a career to think about … and while he doesn’t do anything directly to cross the line and indicate his interest … she sure as hell does. What is worse is he appears to be a sucker for the attention, and they do this on the clock … in front of me.

I know it’s none of my business and it doesn’t involve me but … at what point does it become inappropriate and at what point do I say something? I know that his wife, C, has noticed something strange is going on and I don’t want her to be blindsided or think that I was just okay with what was going on. Do I say something, or do I shut my whore mouth?

Sincerely,
KC

Oh KC, this is a tricky situation. I’ve thought long and hard about what you should do, and I can only come up with one solution. Keep your whore mouth shut.

Because if you open it, you can’t win. If you talk to A privately, you will no longer be in her good graces and working with an asshole coworker sucks a fat one.

Ultimately, B is responsible for how he behaves and how he reacts to her behavior (whatever her intentions may be) and that is between A, B, and C.

If you go to his wife and inform her that A is crossing lines with the way she behaves to her husband, B, you will be in the middle of it. I’m sure I don’t need to remind you that anyone stuck in the middle is bound to lose.

You’re very well-intentioned here, and I appreciate that, but ultimately, you have to look out for Number One: you.

Good luck, Prankster.

Holy Fucker Balls!

I am not a freak, stalker or murderer so please don’t be weirded out when I say, I think I have found my cyber soulmate in you!!! You and your site are full of awesomeness and even though I just stumbled upon you whilst looking for a donut recipe on Pioneer Woman, I am already a huge fan!

I have always felt like I have to censor myself while amongst my peers but now I have found a home where I oddly feel normal! Thank you for all you do and for your friends and fans that share their stories.

Shit, I am supposed to fit a question in here.

Hmmm, Is it acceptable to swear in front of your children? I do. However, I don’t allow my children to use profanity. My theory is, this world is full of bad words and other fucked up shit.

I’m kinda sad that you’re not a freaky stalker (would make life…more interesting!) but it’s full of the awesome that you found me while looking for donut recipes. I heart donuts. I heart donuts so much that it’s obscene.

My first words were “Fuck You,” (no seriously) so it’s safe to say that my parents never held back when swinging swears around me. CLEARLY.

I was allowed to swear as a child…providing I didn’t do it in public. There is, apparently, a limit to the permissiveness in the household growing up. But I’ll save that for another story.

That said, I do swear in front of my children. They, in turn, yell at me for it. No sooner can I say, “where’s that asshole (insert noun here)?” before one of them is hollering at me to say, “Holy Smokes,” instead.

If pressed, I’d tell my kids the same things my parents told me: “you can’t swear in public or anywhere it’ll embarrass us,” because you know, I’m clearly a role model. I heart profanity almost as much as donuts. Profane donuts might be the Next Big Thing.

Swearing – especially colorfully – makes life interesting. Consider it a LESSON you’re teaching your kids the ART of swearing rather than something you’re doing wrong. At least, that’s what I tell myself.

I’m sure I’m warping them enough in other ways.

Mental Note: Add Money To Kids’ Therapy Fund.

————-

As always, Pranksters, please fill in where I left off. What would you advise these Pranksters to do?

Hi Aunt Becky,

First of all, you rock.  I hate feeling like I’m being a whiner, since I know so many other people are going through hardships worse than mine.

But here’s my current crapola.  I have gone through a layoff, drained my savings, and been struggling to make ends meet since last summer.  I also battle depression, so when multiple areas of my life start crumbling, I have a really hard time coping.

I had a best friend that I’ve known for 14 years who has apparently decided to cut me out of her life.  I have attempted to contact her to no avail. I know I haven’t done anything wrong, and I do have a lot of other great friends, but this one stings.  I don’t have a great relationship with my family, and she was always like the sister I didn’t have.

I have no clue what’s going on with her, but I really hate feeling like I suck because she has decided to not be my friend.  I know deep down it’s her issue, but how do I just shut down that big part of me that cares, and say “Whatever!” and move on?  I am the kind of person that takes situations like this to heart.

Any advice about how to stop letting my self-worth be dictated by others?

It’s tough to handle the break-up of a friendship no matter what the circumstances, and when a good friend stops talking to you out of the clear blue, closure is nearly impossible. It’s a rejection without the courtesy “thanks but no thanks; fuck you very much” letter. A breakup with a friend can be just as hard (if not harder) a breakup with a lover.

(I have decided “lover” is much awesomer than saying “life partner,” “husband,” “wife,” “boyfriend,” or “hostage.”)

When I was planning my wedding, I had two maids-of-honor, both my good friends. All of the bridesmaids met at the seamstresses house to get measured for the dresses I was forcing them to wear. One of my maids-of-honor had been a bit…off but I hadn’t thought much of it. We were both extremely busy.

I tried to get in touch with her a couple of days later and she didn’t answer her cell. I called back a the next day: no answer. Like me (back when I had a cell phone able to make and receive calls) she had her phone glued to her ear, so I knew she’d been getting the calls.

Weeks went by and…nothing.

I haven’t seen her since.

It’s been six years and I still have no idea what happened. It also still sucks.

And I guess my rambly point is this: being dumped sucks. Being dumped by an old friend is worthy of feeling sad. Everyone feels like a loser when they’re dumped or rejected.

On the flip-side, maybe there’s something going on with her. Her own demons. The kinda stuff she needs to battle alone.

I wish you the best. When you’re feeling extra-sad, try to remember it really is her loss. Or buy a voodoo doll. Whatever.

—————

Dear Aunt Becky,

The bushes in front of our house are pokey Barberry’s that were planted every-other-style in terms of color.  Obnoxious. How do I make them go away “on accident” so the spouse is none the wiser?

(in my best Clint Eastwood voice) I. HATE. BUSHES.

Shrubbery is my mortalest enemy. My house was way over-landscaped by the original owners because people in the 70’s loved full bushes (heh). The people we bought the house from did absolutely no maintenance on the yard, which meant that it looked like a serial killer lived here when I moved in.

I spent last summer digging out the 9474632 moldy, ancient, ugly bushes. Now, I’m guessing, I must find something to replace them with.

(IF YOU SAY “MORE BUSHES” I WILL CRAM THOSE BUSHES UP YOUR ASS.)

I’m going to make the assumption that you’re going to eventually have to dig out the roots, because, obviously, but here’s the best way to kill bushes that I know of.

Cut off some the branches waaaaaaaay at the bottom of the bush, closeish to the roots.

Then, spray that “open wound” of the bush with weed killer. I happen to use Weed-B-Gone. Mostly because I own some and am too busy adding cats shooting lasers out of their eyes to my pictures to go find anything else.

If you’re trying to stealthily remove (heh) shrubs, it may take you awhile to kill them if you don’t just whack (heh) the whole bush down (heh) and douse those fuckers with Weed-B-Gone. You may have to do it a couple of times to get it to work.

Or get a voodoo doll.

—————

As always, Pranksters, pick up where I left off. Because I’m sure you have much sager advice than I do. (Obviously.)

Or get a voodoo doll.

Dear Aunt Becky,

I’m a fan, a kindred spirit, and I have a question.  I enjoy writing and have been encouraged by friends and sisters to start a blog to document my take on my daughter’s life. So here’s my conundrum…when I’m not working and parenting (for better or worse), I am a community volunteer who is heavily involved in my very small southern town.

Hell, I was just named Woman of the Year!

The good god-fearin’ folks here do not know me as the foul-mouthed, non-domestic heathen that I really am. (Did I mention that I have a track or two from Ice T’s Body Count on my iPod?)

So I want to know what I should do.  I don’t think I can truly be myself without, well, being myself.  But I fear exposing the ol’ “man behind the curtain.”  Your advice is appreciated.

Well, Prankster, here’s my advice, which happens to be something I’ve been thinking about a lot (for separate reasons):

You are the one in charge of what you tell the world.

I understand why you don’t want to expose the Real You, and here’s the kicker, you don’t have to! The Daver has gone over the reasons anonymous on The Internet is never quite anonymous, (and in my opinion, a waste of time, energy and brain cells on your end), but that doesn’t mean you can’t simply not mention that you have a blog to the very good Southern God-Fearing Folks you know.

The best bloggers I know capture a moment in time, a feeling, bring you into their lives – their real lives – without having to show you everything, and that’s what makes them a cut above the rest; they’ve managed to find that elusive balance between sharing enough and sharing too much (I mean, the minute-by-minute play-by-play of your day doesn’t typically make exciting reading unless you’re a circus performer or something).

Pick a pseudonym, don’t pass out business cards with your blog URL at fundraisers, don’t link it to your Facebook Profile, rise above gossiping about your neighbors, bitching about anyone in particular, and, if it makes you feel more comfortable, make access to your blog invite-only. If someone you know stumbles across it, well, they do. At least you’re not complaining about how gross Mary Jo’s Super Spam Casserole is.

I wish you luck, Prankster. If you take the leap, I’m sure you’ll do it well.

(and, um I totally want to be named Woman Of The Year by someone other than myself)

Dear Aunt Becky,

What the fuck? I need you! You are my mentor and I need your advice and the advice of your Pranksters.

Here goes: I began a blog back in June. I have a set of haters who are making me think maybe I need to close the blog and make it for only those who truly appreciate my…um…sense of humor…self…love of sex…and, of course, foul language.

At any rate, I would not sweat it but these haters are my fucking sisters! They creep around blog, look for shit about themselves so they can complain to my mother. Again…WHAT THE FUCK! Oh, these women are in their 50’s! Can you fucking believe that?!

My mom tells them to stop reading, but it bugs me that they still do.

I look forward to your advice because your blog is not only open but it is honest which is what I love!

Am I ruining my chances of having Mark Wahlberg read my blog if i make it “private”??

What do you suggest?

P.S. I know my spelling sucks so feel free to correct. Love ya and hope you are on the road to recovery.

Knowing there are people out there who read your blog for the sole purpose of picking each post apart to mock, criticize and laugh about is one of the hardest things to get used to. Sure, the Internet Mole People (trolls) who pop up now and again to say, “U Sux Whor,” can hurt the old feelers, but the ones out there silently waiting for you to fuck up so they can gloat and cheer; those are worse.

I can’t tell you anything beyond what I tell myself (especially when I pretend that I’m Jack Bauer working the counter-terrorist unit, and then I run around the house yelling, “DAMMIT!”): “don’t let them win.”

If you stop blogging because a couple of assholes are sitting behind their computer, wishing you ill, well, maybe it’ll make you feel better in the short-term, but in the long run, how would that make you feel?

When I do stop blogging, it’ll be because I am done. Not because a couple of asswipes – even asswipes who used to be my friends – hate me.

Sure it bothers me sometimes, just like it bothers you, but I’ll be dipped in pig shit if I let it stop me.

My advice to you is this: decide how much blogging matters to you. Decide how much it matters knowing your sisters are trolling your blog, looking for shit on you. Can you blog happily knowing that your sisters are there? Will you be unhappy if you close your blog because they’re being assjackets?

Which matters more?

That should give you your answer right there, Prankster.

I wish you luck. I’ve been in your shoes and I do understand.

In the end, I’ve decided that I have to do what I love, and if people are out there rooting for me to fail, well, they’ll be rooting for my failure whether or not I’m blogging it.

——————

Pranksters, I think this a great discussion topic. I look forward to hearing your opinion on both of these blogging issues. So please, weigh in.

And, should you have a question that you want my worthless opinion about, please submit it to the Go Ask Aunt Becky button at the top of the screen.

Dear Aunt Becky,

Wow. So, I just found an old flame on facebook. my current husband (#3) is the jealous kind. should i delete him as my friend or keep him as a friend? my husband has not seen that I’ve added him yet. More importantly is there a way to keep him and hide him? I still have the hots for him!

O! Prankster, my Prankster, as far as I’m concerned, The Facebook is good for one thing and one thing only: feeling smugly superior to ex-boyfriends. Since I have none as “friends,” and with the exception of a select few (read: Robert), I happen to think highly of my ex’s, I find Facebook mostly annoying.

Also: once I read that Facebook destroyed like 87% marriages. Although I could be wrong. Numbers aren’t my thing. And those statistical things are usually pretty skewed. Remember when they were all, “most accidents occur within five miles of your house?” And you were all, “HOLY SCHNIKES, IMMA DIE,” every time you went to get a delicious cheeseburger? (Maybe it’s just me)

Until you realized, of course, most of your DRIVING was within five miles of your house, so of course, most accidents would occur there too.

Really, that’s my long-winded way of saying this:

Delete your old flame. He’s your “old” flame for a reason. Then?

Run.

Like.

Hell.

No good can come of this.

Dear Aunt Becky,

I’m back again with another question for Aunt Becky and her Merry Band of Pranksters: I asked you before (that’s a link to her previous question) about my husband’s abusive behavior.

I know the answer to the question “Is it abuse?”

This time, the question is what do I do? I left, he can’t talk to me or come within 100 yards of me, but we have 50-50 custody of our 4-year old son. The ex has left bruises on him twice. I have had to take him to the pediatrician for. 50-50 custody.

I’m begging my attorney for an ex parte with the judge to change the custody situation. I don’t care about child support. I am afraid that he’s going to kill my little boy.

What do I do? Go to the family violence shelter and risk contempt of court charge and losing my job? Send him back and pray? Please help and pray for my baby. Please.

My heart sunk, Prankster, when I read this. Of course we’ll all pray for you.

I’ve dug around a little, and not knowing much about the law or where you live (don’t mention it, I don’t want this to get back to you), I’m not exactly sure what to do besides call the Child Abuse Hotline immediately. They have a 24-7 hotline staffed by counselors who can better navigate the law and how to protect your son.

This is the website for Childhelp.Org and the National Child Abuse Hotline is 1-800-4-A-Child.

Call social services and make sure that your child’s teacher is aware. Teachers are required to report abuse to social services as well and (according to a brilliant Prankster) may carry more weight with them.

Be sure to document the SHIT out of everything with pictures, doctors notes, you name it.

I wish I had any smarter advice but I have a terrible My Grain and can’t see very well and I don’t want to say something that’s dumber than dumb (read: my normal crap).

Prankster, I am sending you all the love and light that I can. Please be safe.

Pranksters, please, help this Prankster and her son (Prankster, JR) out with all of your brilliant advice and prayers..

So Pranksters, it’s time for the March Edition of the BB2G: Bringing Happy Back World Tour, which is like New Years Resolutions except awesome (New Years Resolutions = Bullshit).

So get your glorious asses over there and join up. Mostly because you get that glorious badge. Which isn’t QUITE as awesome as the Best Picture on the Internet, but close.

Dear Aunt Becky,

How should I handle a little effin’ biotch who recently made my sweet angel cry at school?

My daughter is nine and has a heart of gold. Everyone she meets always compliments me on her lovely sweet personality and how she would not hurt a fly. Well yesterday, she told me about a girl at school who say behind her in assembly and made some really nasty comments about my child, calling her an ugly cry-baby with a big head!

My child just doesn’t understand this type of cruelty. She made me so sad when she looked at me confused and said “but Mommy, she doesn’t even know me!”

Please help, I’m so incensed with rage I’m trying hard not to head out and find this little shit and pinch her effin’ head off!

If there’s anything that pisses me off more than bullying, I’m not sure what it is. Do you remember when we were kids and we had kids that were total assjackets to us and the answer was pretty much a standard *shrugs* “kids will be kids?”

I do.

Or, at least, I remember my brother going through it. He’s a lot older than me and I’ll never forget watching my big brother – my strong, smart, tough big brother, who I thought the world revolved around – as he was tormented, endlessly mocked and beaten down, because he had a stutter. Oh yeah, bullies and I, we’re like peas in a pod. If peas in a pod want to watch each other burn to death in a fiery blaze of bullets.

Anyway.

Yeah, so back then, no one dealt with bullies. Now? The schools take bullying more seriously. AS THEY SHOULD.

My eldest was the target of a bully in Kindergarten and the school actually ended up suspending the child after the bullying continued. Ben’s emotional range isn’t quite as normal as a typical child (he’s autistic) so when he was being bullied, he was less upset and more confused by the whole situation. I, of course, was the one who was flaming pissed. Ben’s about as kind and gentle as they come.

So, what do you do about it?

Well, first, I’d try and talk to your daughter about what happened with the girl, let her know that it’s not her fault, and that you are, of course, 100% on her side. Kids don’t always know that you’re on their side unless you SAY it, and if you’re acting angry, sometimes they think that you’re angry at THEM.

Tell your daughter to talk to an adult the next time it happens. A teacher, you, another parent, a sibling, anyone. She needs to tell an adult that she’s having problems with a bully.

The second thing she can learn to do is to stand up for herself without getting upset. The bully wants to get the victim upset. Tell your daughter to not let the bully see her respond emotionally. She doesn’t have to be an asshole back to the bully, but she doesn’t have to take whatever the bully is throwing out lying down. She can respond with a joke back or a firm, “Whatever,” and then get out of the situation. If the bully doesn’t get the reaction that she wants, she’ll stop doing it.

If she can learn to do that (which is extremely hard, I know) it will do wonders to foster her self-esteem down the road.

The third thing she can learn to do is to stand up for others who may be targeted by bullies. Sometimes, you just need SOMEONE on your side. I think every single one of us understands how THAT feels.

As for you, Prankster, I’d call the school if the bullying persists and see what their policy on bullying is. I imagine that your school now has some policy on bullying in place, what with all of the proof that bullying in the early days leads to all kinds of problems in later life.

Now, I’m giving you the link to a book that an actual online friend (I have friends? WOAH) wrote about bullies. He sent me a copy which I gave to my nine-year old son, Ben (the one who’d been bullied) and Ben has read it no less than 879 times. Seriously, he loves it.

It’s called The Skinny on Bullying and it’s been heartily endorsed by my son. So, there you have it.

Now, Pranksters, I know you’re going to have a honking buttload of better information than I do to give this Prankster, so please, share away.

Today, Pranksters, is the last day to vote for the 2011 Bloggies.

Mommy Wants Vodka and Band Back Together are both nominated, and I hate to ask you, but, uh, could, you please, uh, vote?

Dearest Aunt Becky,

Do I tell my boss that I am moving to Far Away City, USA on a Friday or a Monday? (I am moving for my husband’s job)

I have asked The People I Know and no one gives me a solid answer.  If no one can do it, then Aunt Becky surely can.

I’ve given this much thought, Prankster, and the proper answer is Friday. Because on a Friday, you can find people to go out and celebrate your new-found freedom with. On a Monday, people will simply say (dejectedly), “Oh…congrats,” and you’ll be lucky if you can find someone to come over for pizza because they have to work the next day. There will be no tomfoolery or mischief or shenanigans.

And Lord knows, that’s what you need when you’re about to move across country.

Hi Aunt Becky.

I was directed to your blog today by a friend of mine, and I saw your follow me buttons on the right side of the page, and well, I just have to say that I love them.  I was curious where and how you got them.

I hope you can share this with me, but if not, I totally understand.

Thanks

Dom

Dear Dom,

So, I have two sets of buttons on my sidebar, because one is, apparently, never enough, and WordPress doesn’t have a plugin that does everything I want, not exactly.

The one above is called Subscription Options and it’s simple to use and install. I did have to sign up for Feedburner in order to get the “email posts” option to work, but that seems to be the ONLY workable “email posts” plugin out there for WordPress that actually works.

I’d had another plugin installed here and Band Back Together that malfunctioned a couple of weeks ago. Instead of emailing everyone who’d actually signed up to have posts emailed to them, it emailed everyone who had signed up for the site. Classy!

This is the other WordPress subscribe option plugin I have installed right now. It’s called “fixed social buttons.” It’s good because it’s got all those annoying places you have an account all in a neat row. And, it no longer scrolls, which was annoying.

If you haven’t died of boredom (entirely possible), I hope that’s helped.

Dear Aunt Becky,

What’s that comment thing you have that emails me when you reply to my comments?

Dear Prankster,

This is another WordPress plugin called “WordPress Thread Comments” and while I directed you to the website with a link, it’s kind of in another language.

It’s a nifty plugin. WordPress does have a “nested comment” option already, but it doesn’t (I do not believe) email you the replies, which makes it less awesome than that plugin. The problem with that plugin is, as with all WordPress plugins, it doesn’t always work with every theme. I cannot make it work, for example, with the Mushroom Printing theme. That theme is glitchy as hell, though.

That’s WordPress for you.

I hope that helps. I’m not much of a “computer person.” I also don’t know why I used quotes on that, but now that I did, I don’t feel like going back to fix it because my mouse isn’t working and I don’t know why. Perhaps I should write to myself and ask.