Oh Where Oh Where

 Dear Auntie Belle,

Where have you been the last 8 years?

Oh Where Oh Where

Dear Oh Where, 

I went on a Sabbatical to the outer regions of Mongolia. There were men there, men who had needs, men who were well-endowed with, uh, intellectual talents. Yeah, that’s what they had. I studied under and around them until I could take no more. I returned to get my strength back but find I am already missing my Mongo darlings...uh, I mean colleagues. I learned so much from so many and so often. My breath is quickening now at just the thought of them! I returned to give them all a much needed rest. 

Auntie Belle

Penny For Your Thoughts

Dear Auntie Belle, 

My left shoe is a comfortable, all leather loafer, but my right shoe is a real pain in the ass. The right one keeps talking to me. It says “you’ll have to foot the bill, you’ll have to foot the bill.” I can’t get it to close its flap. 

This is giving my socks insomnia and they can hardly stand up anymore. 

Do you recommend extra starch, psychological help for one or all of us; or tan my shoe’s hide within an inch of its life. 

Penny for Your Thoughts 

Dear Penny, 

Listen to your right shoe! I have never had a right shoe lie to me, but those left shoes are utterly devoid of principles. Oh, and keep me afoot...er, apprised at what happens next.

Auntie Belle

Loco in Acapulco

 Dear Auntie Belle, 

l hope I haven’t disturbed your siesta My sister says she doesn’t want to be my wife anymore, but what about the children? What if they realize every stranger in town is their father, and not their dear Uncle Francisco. 

How am I going to pay the rent if my sister leaves me?

Loco in Acapulco

Dear Loco, 

your letter has revealed a septic tank of immoralities, abnormalities and sexual deviations, the like of which I have not seen for at least a fortnight. I have a solution for you though: You never have to pay rent again, meals and medical aid will be provided free of charge. Your only requirement will be permitting onlookers to study you. A few may harbor ideas of finding a cure for...your type, but most will just delight in pointing and laughing. You will also be required to engage in inventive and raw incest (we have some who love that sort of thing). Although you will have no privacy any longer you will soon find yourself a veritable porn star.  (Is your mother still alive, by the way? We could work her into the act, as well!) Keep me updated. Your new abode will be ready soon. 

Auntie Belle

Loco replies:

I forgot to mention, my mother IS my sister. She says no dice. But my grandmother (I mean Aunt Francesca) is available. 

[Neighbors point out Francesca is just Francisco in a dress.]

Check Out The New Buk Show - PART ONE!

<-- Check Out -->

The Buk Show!

Just a Phase

Dear Auntie Belle,

I am thinking of writing a book called "World Piece" about how no idea can stand. If you set up a dictatorship, the world conspired to crumble you, if you set up a lovey-dovey peace and joy commune, the world conspires to co-opt you.

Every idea gets the shitcan eventually.

What do you think?

Just a Phase

Dear Just,

I have no idea.

Auntie Belle

Next:

Confused Bukowski Reader

Smokey the Mohel

Dear Auntie Belle,

My neighbor smokes incessantly. I gather up his cigarette butts from his yard, my yard, the road and even from down next to the creek over by the firehouse. He leaves them everywhere!

So I use these cigarette filters for a variety of purposes. I oil the metal holes that hold my shoe laces on with them, I use three or four filters in each ear as ear plugs when I sleep; I clean my guns with them and wrapped in a hair net they keep leaves out of my rain gutters. I also make sculptures of topology maps out of them, and I can mix them with solvents and make a variety of plastics from soft to very hard. They can even be made into a polish that I use for rust-proofing steel!

My neighbor thinks I'm a loon and he has started hanging onto his cigarette butts, even turning them in to the recycling center (who won't let me have them.) He says I ought to get a life, but I had a life until he cut off my lifeline -- made out of his butts! 

No one else in my immediate vicinity smokes. And I can't start because I am kosher and cigarette filters are made out if pork products. Please please help me convince my neighbor to be a slob again.

Smokey the Mohel

PS: did you know that more than 2000 products are made out of pigs, from shampoo to bullets, wine corks, beer? insulin and collagen injections, glue, paint, shoe leather, bread; and that pig skins are used as sports equipment, to test chemical weapons, to practice tattooing and as deep fried dog chews?

Dear Smokey, 
So you circumcise filtered cigarette butts? Your neighbor has something you want; perhaps you have something he wants? 

PS You forgot the most important pig product - bacon.

Auntie Belle

Next: 
Indelible Dilemma

Heartfelt Chairman of the Emensans

Dear Auntie Belle,

I have noticed the generally underdeveloped emotionality of your letter submitters. Some are trying to adolescently provoke the readers and some engage in infantile teasing. Even your Mensan writer sounded like an uneducated bus driver (no offense meant to the general run of bus drivers who are warm, friendly and skilled at their profession.) Your Mensa writer sounds like what Mensans call a Densan. 

We of the Emotional Intelligence society hate to squabble. We do not ask that you improve on the badly retread Sophie Tucker/vaudeville patter that you call your responses. We do not assume that your audience will magically become adults. We do not expect your letter writers to start having normal lives. We are just here to remind you that we are better than you.

We, of controlled emotions, and rational decision-making ability would laugh at your pitiful blog if it were not endemic of the decay of society in general. We, the emotionally intelligent are a bulwark against the degeneration of social evolution. Those few who read these pages and realize they are above them, should contact us, the Emensans, The Society for The Emotionally Intelligent.

Heartfelt Chairman, Emensans*

*Yes, we are usually immense too!

Dear Heartfelt,
I dated many Emensan members and can testify that only in some areas are you ever 'immense'; you have fat heads, fat bellies, enormous thighs and morbidly obese egos. It's why it's become necessary for you to sit to pee. It's also why there are so few of you, and why you are a dying breed; so busy are your minds you have lost the ability to procreate and the genitalia necessary to accomplish that. Eventually, those who write to me will wipe the dribble from your chin as you decay in some old folks home. It won't even make headlines when the last one of you dies. You may discuss that at your next meeting, but it's far too late to do anything about it. 

Auntie Belle

Next:
Minnesota Mensa Member
  

Happy Hiram

Dear Auntie Belle,

One of my readers sent me a picture of herself pregnant (very far along) with the caption "looks just like Daddy."

Am I being set up and how do I prove that the kid is not my son?

Happy Hiram

Dear Hiram

Write back, and tell her you don't recognize that belly, does she recognize this:

Hiram's Belly

Auntie Belle

Next:

My Mum's Not a Sheila 

Feminist Spokeswoman

Dear Ms. Belle,

After I spent the late 1960's burning my bras marching in the streets and protesting against gender discriminatory bathrooms, here you come along calling women various names, telling them they are crazy and should murder their sister-in-laws, in other words mocking them and belittling them the same as you do MEN!!

What is the matter with you. Have we raised your consciousness only to have it descend again? Have we taught you to love you vagina just so you can swing it around at people like it was a cat? Have we preached sisterly love only to have you going around treating women as badly as men? Have you not read my book "The Feminine Mistake"? Are you wearing make-up right now and cooking dinner for someone who thinks this is your job because you are a woman. Oh no, a mean witch like you lives alone with a yard filled with broken down buggies and mementos of men who were more important than you. If you are still waiting on a man you need to read my book. Then you would realize that womanhood is the sacred vessel of political and emancipatory power.

Aschew men. Embrace your (lazy, stupid-ass and fallen ) sisters. Stop telling it like it is and start promoting your perfect species; womankind. Take words like slag, slattern, slut, ho, tramp, ding-a-ling and blonde out of your vocabulary.

Please return to the vaginal fold.

Helluvah Girly Brawn

Feminist Spokeswoman 

Dear Helluvah,
It is nearly 50 years later; your boobs sag to your knees - still happy you burned your bra? Meanwhile, mine are still perky.

Men fear you; they fear me as well but for an entirely different reason. 

As far as politics? The only president I haven't controlled, since the Great Depression forced me to intervene, is the current one, so I am arranging a small soiree to remedy that. 

Btw, I had such a lovely experience at that bathhouse in Greece, I attempted to re-live it at a bathhouse in Chicago. To my chagrin, I quickly realized it was a bathhouse for queers, sodomites, future presidents. I got pictures and videos, thinking Bruno would enjoy the film. Imagine our surprise when the biggest girl of the bunch showed up on television at the Democratic National Convention!

So, Helluvah, you do things your way and I'll do them mine.  

Oh, and don't bother signing up for that healthcare fiasco; Barry will realize what a huge blunder it was, and he will apologize profusely to Americans - just before he resigns in disgrace. He will count on me not to release those tapes, but Auntie Belle is ruthless. (And now you know why your book never made it to the best-seller's list; it was garbage that was written by a slut. There isn't a publisher of any calibre I don't own.)
  

Auntie Belle

Next:
Above The Law

Past My Sell-By Date

Dear Auntie Belle,

My car won't start, my egg timer is running fast and my pasta won't al dente. I need a reason to go on, and don't say buy argyle socks like you did that crazy guy. I am not crazy!

Past My Sell-By Date

Dear Past,

I hear the Kardasians will be vacationing in the Bahamas! As a treat, they are doing a one-hour special so viewers may vacation vicariously through them. You can look forward to that! But Kanye is awash with doubts; he may actually leave the country because of all the racism! Now don't all your problems seem trivial? 

Auntie Belle

Next:

Anon. 

A Big Gay Supporter

Ms. Belle,

Please stop referring to my gay friends by offensive and antiquated names. I have many friends who enjoy a back door adventure, or who really aspire to fish on fish action. You should not make fun of these folks as they are people too.

Please keep your humor in the future insulting to women, men, old people, children, the mentally challenged, Mormons, Amish folk, skanks and ho's, Greeks, Canadians*, inventors, popes, concentration camp survivors and their Nazi lovers, Mensans, morons, drunks and general ass wipes. 

Please do not make fun of gay people any more

Abscondita Cubiculum, President of 

People's Righteous Efforts - For All Gays

*You haven't made fun of Canadians yet, but I think it is overdue. 

Dear Ms. Cubiculum,
Bring me a Canadian sodomite, and I shall make fun of him until he cries like the girl he is.  

Auntie Belle

Next: 
Still Beating For You

Mrs. Looney Toons

Dear Auntie Belles (1 through 3)

I wrote you about my husband's tendency to fart very loudly when we have guests over for dinner. He also licks the clean forks when my back is turned and liked to wear a babushka and roam around the neighborhood collecting rubber bands off the streets. 

You replied,

Dear Mrs. Loony Toon,

If he fetches and comes when you call him, you don't need a dog. Statistics say you'll out-live him, then you can get the plastic surgery so you won't get those stares of pity and disgust in public.

Auntie Belle

But then I looked back at the screen and you wrote:

Dear Mrs. Looney Toon,

Your husband has security issues, so he married a dog.  Don't hump his leg until the second date, but if he's lucky, you won't get one.

Auntie Belle

BUT WHEN I LOOKED AGAIN you had written:

Dear Mrs. Crazy As(s) Your Husband,

You don't need to be pretty, Honey, and in fact, would lose him if you improved. Just learn to love yourself as you are, even the hump; change your name, dye your hair, wear a wig, shave your head, wear a hajab and tell people you converted to Islam; convert to Islam and close all other options. 

Auntie Belle

I am so confused, every day I look at your column and think about my question and you give a DIFFERENT ANSWER!!!

Stop answering the questions differently. You are confusing me. And my husband is now a refrigerator. At least he can make ice.

Mrs. Looney Toons

Dear Mrs Looney Toons,
Read Sybil, or rent the movie of the same title, starring Sally Field and Joanne Woodward. Btw, your husband isn't a refrigerator; he's a German Shepherd. And that isn't ice he's making.

Auntie Belle

Next:

Damned Confused

Still Beating For You

Bellissima,

Even having known your well seasoned charms and despite my desperate entreaties you call me a back of the door man  and a homosexual. If love for you is queer then call me the gayest man alive. I don't know who this Bruno is, but unless he is bringing news of you I have no interest in him. You should watch your words my dear because foolish minds will think you are not a true lady if you are so harsh. And if you lead my beating heart on much longer, you may find that I turn into a poof of smoke.
I am 

Still Beating For You

Dear Still Beating,
What exactly are you beating, my dear? And Bruno is my chef; he has a fantasy about cooking a tender, young man. I have been preventing him from acting upon that, but I recently purchased a gigantic black cook pot once used by a tribe in New Guinea for…ceremonial purposes. He's been dying to give it a try. And I would adore having you for dinner sometime? 

Auntie Belle

Next:
Your Heartbroken Lover