Not a good idea.

Let me say this about that.

I am sick and tired of people who give advice in  “Advice Columns”.  It’s usually some dried-up old prune giving advice to a whiney-ass woman who has discovered that her man actually prefers to sleep with someone who has a pulse.  It generally goes something like this:

Dear Ann:  “My husband has been ignoring me lately and I don’t think he loves me anymore.  It’s true that I have let myself go and I admit that I fly into a rage whenever he tries to watch his football games.  I have been trying to control my ‘gorilla-farts’ at night but I do love my pork rinds and beer before bedtime.  The last time we had sex was during the Kennedy administration but I just haven’t been in the mood.  He seems really pissed that I maxed-out all his credit cards, but he has been really cold since my older brother moved in with us after he was released from prison.  Ann, do you think a new hairdo might help my problem?” … ‘Confused in Detroit’

Dear Confused:  “I am shocked that you must endure living with such an ogre.  None of your problems are your fault.  You should begin each morning by looking into the mirror and repeating ‘ I am the perfect woman’.  Your future happiness can be insured by buying my new book entitled ‘ It’s not my fault’ for the low price of $69.99.  Now indulge yourself with that new hairdo.  You go girl !! ” … ‘ Ann Panders’.

WHAT A LOAD OF CRAP !!!

Why is it always the guy’s fault?  Has there ever been a single ‘man/woman’ relationship problem – in the entire world – that wasn’t the guy’s fault ???  I think us guys have been getting a…    bum rap and I’m doing something about it.  To wit: I have started an advice column just for guys.  So far, the response has been nothing short of spectacular.  Let me give you a few examples.

Dear Shambo:  “Last weekend, my buddies and I went to play some golf.  By the end of the first nine holes I had double-bogeyed every hole and got so pissed that I threw my clubs into the lake and walked off the course.  I drove home, and being a few hours early, decided to see if my wife might want to join me for lunch.  But when I walked into the house, I heard her moaning and calling for some guy named Troy.  Turns out, she was having torrid sex with the pool-boy.  Shambo, how can I address my problem?” … ‘Confused in San Jose’.

Dear Confused:  “The solution to your problem is obvious.  Try placing your feet a little closer to the ball  and keep your head down during your tee shot.” … ‘Shambo’.

Dear Shambo:  “I wrote to you a couple of weeks ago for advice on how I could be more successful in picking up women.  You suggested that I stuff a large sweet potato into my bathing suit the next time I went to the beach.  Well, I tried it and found that the only thing that happened was the women broke out into uncontrollable laughter.  What gives?” … ‘Confused in Miami’.

Dear Confused:  “Next time, try putting the sweet potato into the front of your bathing suit instead of the back.” … ‘Shambo’.

Dear Shambo:  “I was born into a wealthy family, so I have never had to work for a living.  In fact, my biggest problem is fighting off the bordom in my daily life.  I have tried many things to combat my bordom such as driving race cars, flying stunt planes, bungee jumping and bull fighting, but nothing seems to work. Do you have any suggestions for me?” … ‘Confused in New York’.

Dear Confused:  “Try juggling snakes.” … ‘Shambo’

Dear Shambo:  “I am the proud father of a 12-year old son.  He is beginning to ask probing questions about adult life and I believe I should begin giving him some fatherly advice.  Do you have a ‘Philosophy-To-Live-By’ that I could pass along to my son?” … ‘Confused in Memphis’.

Dear Confused:  “Yes I do.  I have found that the following philosophy has served me well:  ‘Your body already has the correct number of holes’ “… ‘Shambo’

And, that’s all I have to say about that.

Shambo