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6:00 a.m. - 2003-11-26

A VERY SPECIAL HOLIDAY EDITION OF "ASK ANDREW" WITH NO REFERENCE TO THE HOLIDAY WHATSOEVER

Dear Andrew,

My son has terrible diaper rash from all the diarrhea he has been having lately. I thought you may be able to offer some special ointments to ease his pain, since you have been through this stage yourself.

Thanks,

Erika

..........

Dear Erika,

Who da fuck says I ever had motherfuckin' diaper rash? First off, motherfucker, I resent the fuck out of you even SUGGESTING my ass is anything less than motherfuckin' perfect. Second, there ain't no pain in a diaper rash. It's a little motherfuckin' uncomfortable ... motherfuckin' sure. But once you get past the motherfuckin' initial stages, it's a motherfuckin' walk in the motherfuckin'park. A lil' Johnson & Motherfuckin' Johnson baby powder on yo' ass and ...

GOT! GOTDAMMIT!!

You tricked my stupid ass into motherfuckin' admittin' I've had motherfuckin' diaper rash!

You one sly ho' fo' a mama.

I's gon' have to remember dat trick. Sheeee-it. Learn somethin' new every motherfuckin' day. Ask a simple question...get a motherfucker to admit his ass looks like a gotdamned gravel road.

Sincerely,

Andrew


Dear Andrew,

Before the Wiggles made it huge internationally, they played in Australia, and they played around shopping centres in free concerts, no less. I saw them once, though I paid no attention, merely avoided stepping on toddlers as I tried to get to where I actually wanted to go.

However, I also saw Jeff, the purple dude, at the movie theatre once. He was out of his Wiggles uniform, but at that point a very recognisable face. I was about fifteen. I was with some friends, one of whom was my age but looked about twelve at the time.

Jeff winked at her.

Make of this what you will.

Rae

..........

Dear Rae,

Bitch, you be on my Christmas Card list! Heavy duty industrial strength props fo' heppin' me prove my motherfuckin' point that somefin' ain't right wi' dat crazy assed motherfucker. Motherfucker has prob'ly had his motherfuckin' johnson in more kids than dat fucked-up Michael Jackson motherfucker.

I am' TELLIN' yo' ass dat motherfucker kept starin' holes through my ass when I went's ta see them motherfuckers las' month. I may only be three, but my motherfuckin' gaydar be some advanced shit. And like my daddy tol' me when I's a tiny lil' motherfuckin' pup ... don't let no motherfucker with a dick ever touch yo' motherfuckin' dick, motherfucker unless he's got a Med School diploma hangin' on his wall and at that point ... marry the motherfucker.

Gotdamned Wiggles. I hate dem' motherfuckers.

Sincerely,

Andrew


Dear Andrew,

I've been reading your column and you are down, dude. Like totally phat. All the guys I go out with are so wimpy compared to you. Would you be interested in dating me? I am enclosing a picture.

A groupie,

Madeleine

..........

A'ight.

So check this motherfuckin' shit out.

I get's dis picture of dis FINE ASSED motherfuckin' babe wif dis email. I'm talkin' titties out to HERE and an ass you could eat for motherfuckin' days.

Da bitch is fiii-ine.

So I'm reachin' in my diaper as soon as I cop dis picture, and I'm jugglin' my boys down there, ready to beat it silly while I stare into her eyes.

Jus' as I'm about to motherfuckin' explode in my diaper, my ol' lady walks in and tells me to stop playin' wif my gotdamned peepee and it's not nice to do dat shit.

Dat gotdamned motherfuckin' bitch. She won't even let my ass pop a nut. I'm sick of her righteous assed bullshit all the time tryin' to keep my ass oppressed.

So I printed out the picture and took it to bed wif me and jacked it in there.

I love you, Madeleine.

You gotdamned right I'd date yo' fine motherfuckin' ass, bitch. I'd even give you a pearl necklace on our first motherfuckin' date. Dat's how much I want yo' ass.

See you in my dreams, slut.

Sincerely,

Andrew


("Ask Andrew" is the only Internet advice column for adults and written by a three year-old little boy with delusions of someday being a gangsta rapper. "Ask Andrew" doesn't want fries with that. When the working day is done, "Ask Andrew" just wanna have fuh-hun. "Ask Andrew" is not affiliated with or endorsed by any other advice columnist, but wouldn't mind being thrown a bone from Ann Landers every now and then to make this whole thing a bit more legit. Do not read "Ask Andrew" while operating heavy machinery. Ask not what your country can do for you ... ask Andrew. "Ask Andrew" is for amusement purposes only and is not intended as something you can base your whole life around. Seriously, this is a joke. Kind of like your life. Do not read this and think "Oh wow. I'm going to start talking like that on the subway or in my local McDonald's during rush hour." If Andrew hears about you copping his shit, he'll come to your town and pop your head like a zit. Hey. That was a rhyme. I'm a poet and didn't even realize it.)
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