Welcome back.

By public demand and as part of my punishment for revealing my hometown's shocking lack of public urinals I'm still saddled with doing community service. So, to service the community, in a non-sexual way according to the judge, I'm offering my infinite wisdom and miniscule compassion to help people with their problems, and then I'll laugh about them behind their backs.

Here's the first letter.

Dear Uncle Vox.

I'm a massively successful blogger who has won the respect of pajama clad loners all over the country. Yet a group of bloggers led by this bunch insist on spreading filthy lies about me. They accuse me of doing all sorts of horrible things like blending puppies into smoothies and strangling hobos. I must insist that I do not blend puppies, kittens occassional, but that strictly for nutritional and not entertainment value, and I haven't killed a hobo since college.

How do I get these wankers off my incredibly successful back?

Sincerely Glenn R. Uncrowned King of All Bloggers.

Sounds like a sticky wicket, as an effete 1920's British dandy would say.

I say that you have two choices and both begin with the letter 'L.'

  1. Litigation
  2. Letter bomb

If you go with number 2 don't tell the judge I gave you the idea, I don't need any more grief. Tell him you got it from a video game, that should get you off.

Now the next letter.

Dear Uncle Vox.

I'm a blogger and I have a mystery that only a true brilliant and radiant genius like you can solve.

Why don't girls like me?

I have my own blog? That alone should be getting me some action, why isn't it working.

Sincerely Damian G. Lonely in Long Island.

I have a simple suggestion that might help.


Trust me.

Some deodorant might help too.

It may not make you the next Rudolph Valentino, but is should at least keep their eyes from watering when you enter the room.

Now the next letter.

Dear Uncle Vox.

I'm a respected syndicated columnist and blogger and that's garnered me a lot of attention, and not all of it's good. Recently I've been receiving what can only be described as 'love notes' from someone called Remulak MoxArgon. He's another blogger and he's apparently developed a crush on me. Despite the fact that he's the best looking man on the blogosphere (second only to you Vox) I'm a married woman, and even though he's an interstellar conqueror, I find the way he constantly mispells my name a pain in the ass.

How do I let him down gently and not get our planet vaporized?

Sincerely Michelle M. Bothered Blogger.

I happen to know Remulak, and I know that he can be kinda sensitive. I once tried to correct his spelling and he shoved a brain parasite up my nose.

Thank god it was my nose, if you know what I mean.

I suggest you invite him over, get him drunk and then have him wake up in a cheap motel room with a hooker. It seems to calm him down.

That's all for tonight. But before I go I just want to plug a project run by a friend of mine, someone who helped me set up the new look for my site. If you don't like the look, blame him.

He's participating in National Novel Writing Month and he's doing his novel on a blog. It's a Sci-Fi adventure called THE WARLORD 2: JUGGERNAUT.

There, I plugged his site, now maybe he'll stop bugging me.


Damian G. said...

Hey! I don't... (Sniff, sniff)

Well, gol-ly! You're right! Soap is the answer!

Thanks, Uncle Vox!

The Conservative UAW Guy said...

Excellent job!!!