Now THAT Was Awkward
Dear Aunt Becky,
Is Dr. William Sears evil?
Signed,
“The Baby Book” Makes Me Cry
Dear He Who Makes Me Giggle,
Now, dear reader, “evil” is a word that Aunt Becky uses sparingly and in reference to things like “butter,” and “dressing room lighting,” and even occasionally “Cosmo Magazine.” So I’m not certain if “evil” belongs in the same sentence as “Dr. Sears.”
That is, of course, unless you don’t co-sleep, don’t breastfeed your child until they’re 15, and consider using a pacifier on your beloved child. After all, YOUR nipple should be the pacifier. Then you might call him evil.
Because he is hyper-critical of mothers who don’t sleep in a family bed. Those who might use formula (his own wife breastfed their adopted kids! Get off YOUR ass and nurse yours!). Those who do not wear their babies. The un-crunchy (plastic?) set.
New parents, Fair Reader, need to be judged like they need another sleepless night.
Yours,
Aunt Becky
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Dear Aunt Becky,
I am considering constructing a room to hang sausage. As the Patron Saint of Sausages, what advice to you have for me?
xoxo,
Sausage-a-holic
Dear Encased Meat Lover,
First off, let me tell you how amazing it is to hear from a fellow lover of tube-shaped meat. There is nothing on the planet that makes me happier than a plate of grilled up hot-dogs or sausages, except, perhaps, a new Chanel Bag. But that’s neither here nor there.
I’m afraid, however, that I don’t have a whole lot of advice to give you.
You see, while I am an avid Queen of The Sausages, and my home may be known as The Sausage Factory, I don’t actually hang my encased meats in a room. I prefer, in fact, to allow the men-folk of my house use their beds rather than the rafters. I know, I know, Fellow Meat Lover, I am too kind.
My suggestion to you, my new friend, is that you go to Wisconsin. They’re known for their cheese and their weenies up yonder dere, and I’m imagining that they might actually know what a room full of sausages might look like. And not in the It’s Dinner Time At Aunt Becky’s House kind of way.
Smootches,
Aunt Becky
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Auntie Becky,
Why does my cat (sic: put her) butt (sic: in) face?
Love,
Felis catus
Dear Cat Fancy,
I can only presume that your cat, like my own, has a camera implanted firmly up his (or her, let’s not be sexist here) butt-hole. Maybe it’s connected to the CIA database, maybe it’s your in-laws spying on you, or maybe it’s for a sexy adult video site, I just don’t know.
But when your cat sticks his (or her) puckered poo-hole into your face, what he (or she) is doing is saying to you, “SPEAK INTO MY MICROPHONE.” Alternately, “SMILE FOR THE CAMERA.”
Please, avid reader, PLEASE be careful what you tell your cat’s ass. You never know who is watching.
Signed,
Just Because You’re Paranoid Doesn’t Mean They’re Not Out To Get You
Oh, just awesome.
Oh dear. All the secret’s I’ve told my kittehs’ butt-holes over the past few months are going to somehow come back to haunt my own butt-hole?!
I’m so screwed.
True story-I do know how to construct a meat hanging room. My husband, father, uncle and various other family members smoke their own sausage once a year (not nearly as dirty as it sounds). Will be pleased to step in as guest commentator, will even provide blueprints and a materials list.
Totally stealing this post idea.
TOTALLY.
Thanks for answering my cat ass question!
AHAHAHAHAHAH!!!
I’ve never been happier that I don’t have a cat.
CIA, huh…do you suppose it’s a wireless connection or are they going to come get my cat one day? I’d kind of prefer the latter.
So funny. Also my dog does the butt in face thing. And his butt is bigger than my face. I guess someone is looking for a close up of my nose. thank you for warning me. I will be more careful what I say in my dog’s butt from now on.
hehehe. I’m totally getting a cat just so I can reverse spy on the CIA.
And, my fiance’s aunts make their own sausage… They use their garage to place the meat for its hanging. I must say it turns out delicious! (I wonder if this is why they’re not married.. just saying)
Aunt Becky, thank you for answering the question that has plagued me for over 8 years now…WHY DOES SHE INSIST ON STICKING HER CAT-ASS IN MY FACE?!?!?!?!?! Now, I understand. And oddly enough, I posted a picture of my beloved kitty cat (her face, not her ass) on my blog first thing this morning. Now go look at it because today is my birthday and you love me!
I *knew* there was a reason I hated cats.
Spying bastards.
Hanging meat? I thought it was supposed to be crammed? Ummm…here I am again with the TMI. Whoops! π
Damn, I just told my cat’s ass the secret to cold fusion the other day.
Tee Hee…you always give me a good laugh π
eh. i hate my cat’s ass too.
It’s been years since I had a cat, and now I can’t get the image of her butt out of my head! To think of all the things Big Brother now knows.
Well, that explains why the baby monitor goes crazy every time the cat walks by.
I don’t know, I think that doctor sounds pretty evil!! I guess my cats aren’t spies, because they never stick their asses in my face. They do chew on my hair, though, while I’m sleeping. Freaks!
Can you add the What to Expect People to the list of evil? Apparently, if you are not a stay at home mom, according to that book, you royally suck and your child is fucked.
“breastfeed your child until theyΓ’β¬β’re 15” – bwahahahahahahahahahaha
Ahhhhh, *wipes tears from eyes*, that was funny.
Thus the origin of “it’s the cat’s ass!” Derivative of: cat’s pajamas, ca. 1920; better than sliced bread, ca. 1850. See, also: “Evil Eye”; “Butthole Surfers”; and “Opinions.”
Why are so many ob-gyns men? And then they want to dictate to women what they “should” do. Let them go back to school and experts on the male bits. Also, you reminded me of a TV commercial that always makes me laugh. There are various men commenting on this army surplus store called Ranger Surplus, and one of them says, “Dis store is da cat’s ass.”
I wonder if Dr. Sears has a cat.
Hey! Don’t be sending weirdos up here to My state, little Missy! π
I was supposed to breastfeed til she was 15 YEARS??? I thought 15 weeks was good enough. π I guess Dr. Sears forgot to tell my boobs that plan, especially after I went back to WORK! Rat bastard apparently never thought that women may OMG need to go to work so they can afford his stupid books. Which I have never bought or read, thank you very much!
You can’t make me laugh like this so early in the day.
However you must understand that I’m in love with all things butter, and that may be the only thing that could keep me from loving you.
Smile for the camera??? Bwahahahahahaha! You make me laugh really loud and inappropriately π
I don’t think butter is evil. Splenda is evil, but not butter.
now I’m worried about my frenchie with no tail!
See I never would have thought of that.
Paranoid much? However, I’ll never look at cat butt in the same way again. And maybe just a little part of me will wonder.
I love how we all got stuck on the cat-ass question. What does that say about us? (Other than we know that Sears is a quack and buy our sausages already stuffed). My cat thinks her name is actually “You-Stinkin’-Ass-Weasel-Get-Off-My-Pillow”. Needless to say, I’m sure she has some adorable pet names for me too: Feeding Bitch, Litter-Box Bitch, Catnip Bitch…sensing a theme here…
BWAH! I love Mail! Bag! Fun! Time!
Oh yeah, and Dr. Sears can kiss my butt.
It’s not the CIA, it’s Dr. Sears checking to make sure you’re following his parenting advice to the letter. If I had a cat, I’d be screaming “kiss this, Sears!”. We bought (stupid, stupid, stupid) his potty-training book for kids when we were training Cheeks. What a waste of money. Cenzo ripped it to shreds. Smart kid.