Letters I Sent to 'Dear Abby,' But Were Never Published for Some Reason
DEAR ABBY: I'm a college sophomore and have been dating my girlfriend, "Lady Jaye," for about three months now. We spend almost all our time together, and she lets me put it in her pooper, like, every night.
Things are going really nicely for us, to be honest. I mean, she doesn't like it when I play video games all that much, but usually she just goes into her room and watches something on TV, so it's not that big of a deal.
That's it. I don't really have a question, per se. Anyway, thanks for reading. -- CONTENT IN WINSTON-SALEM
DEAR ABBY: It has recently come to my attention that Boomer, Lieutenant Junior Grade aboard the Battlestar Galactica, is, in fact, a Cylon.
I find this to be very deceptive of her and downright dangerous considering the fact that Boomer, by all indications a sweet, spunky and overly excitable Asian girl, is posing as one of only 40-some-thousand remaining humans in the entire galaxy. I feel that it may even be necessary to alert the rest of the crew to this shocking fact.
I do, however, wonder what the mindset of most of the crew must be for them to have not seen the many signs pointing to the fact that Boomer is indeed a robotic minion sent to destroy the human race. For one thing, they completely gave away the fact that she is a Cylon at the end of the mini-series last year. How can they be so dense? Please tell me, what's the best way to break the news? -- ANXIOUS IN ANNAPOLIS
DEAR ABBY: I've been having a problem with my family these last few weeks, and I'm not sure how to deal with it. They seem to have some kind of a problem with my love of heroin. But I've told them on any number of occasions that I really, really like heroin. Shouldn't they want me to be happy?
I'm now torn between my love of heroin and my family, who insist that I smoke PCP with them instead. Please, Abby, tell me how I can resolve this issue. -- TORN IN ST. PETERSBURG
DEAR ABBY: Hey, what do you think is the best Led Zeppelin album? I know, I know, you're going to say Led Zeppelin IV. But, you know, Presence is a really underrated album. No kidding. You should give it a listen sometime.
Oh, and have you heard the new Outkast? Hot shit, seriously.
Anyway, take it easy. -- CHILLAXIN IN CHARLOTTE
DEAR ABBY: Here's a question for you. You know those multivitamins you can buy at the supermarket? Do those actually do anything? Like, nutritionally?
The reason I ask is that I just started taking a new brand and ever since the inside of my mouth has tasted like sour cream 'n' onion Pringles. I mean, in one sense that's not so bad, I guess, but I really like sour cream 'n' onion Pringles, and I'd hate to ruin that taste for myself, you know what I'm saying? I did notice that these new vitamins have a lot of iron in them. Could that have something to do with it?
Also, I've been feeling kind of tired lately. Could you prescribe something? Something good, for once? -- FATIGUED IN FT. OGLETHORPE
DEAR ABBY: BIN KIDNAPPED BY ROUGE AGENTS. CANNOT TALK LONG. U MUST GET TO COORDINATES ON MAP ATTACHD. PLZ DO NO LEAVE ME BEHIND, FATE OF WORLD RESTS IN OUR HANDS. -- BOUND AND GAGGED IN SAN FRANCISCO
MY DEAREST ABBY: Hello.
I have stared at the picture of you attached to your column, which is published in newspapers across the nation, nightly. And I must admit that on more than one occasion your photo has brought me the sort of ecstasy one can only reasonably expect from their true love's sweet touch. That is to say, I've blown many a load to it.
But I do not write merely to flatter you. Nay, I must insist that you, Abigail van Buren, and I, who can no longer hide behind a generic phrase describing my emotional state and the city where I live, run away into the moonlight, drinking champagne and laughing the laughter of truest love.
You know as well as I that this is no mere empty request. I am sure that you feel much the way I do, the way you stare seductively off that page, as if you are staring only at me, the man who will finally deflower you, a woman who must certainly be well into her 60s.
Give me this chance. Give me the night. Give me your love. Dear Abby, let me bone the shit out of you.
Sexfully,
MW
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