For Fat Agony Aunt (Love what you’ve done with my name),
A neighbour (yuk) has stopped to chat at the gate on occasion when walking their dog. (A friend of the husband from years ago) the last twice he has spoke about an open marriage … they are naturists and have just returned from their villa in a naturists villiage in Spain. Yesterday he asked the husband (he hasn’t said these things to him) if we would go for supper next week, p.s. they have a hot tub. Question: what if he brings holiday snaps out … or strips for natural hot tub?
Freaking Out About The Freaks
Dear Freaking Out About The Freaks,
You mean you’re not into a freaky deaky neighborhood partner swap? All the good kind of neighbors are open to buck naked and hairy hot tubbing and sharing their spouses like their favorite casserole recipe. Aren’t they?
Oh, I’ve just been informed that this is, in fact, not normal behavior and you have every reason to be a little put off by being stopped by them for fear they will show you pics of their wrinkly parts!
So, this is what you do…
You get to them first. Be a bigger Freak a Leak by showing them your holiday pics at the even nude-ier naturalist village (just print pics off of some nudist site that don’t show faces, only bare asses) and maybe even ask them their opinion on homemade German dungeon porn. Without a doubt and in no time they will be the ones avoiding you, you freaky dog you. *wink*
Or…not and you will have created an even more awkward situation, but it could be fun trying.
In all honesty, I’d just try to avoid them like the plague. Figure out their schedule of leaving the house and never leave your house at the same time. You know, be a real mature adult about it.
I feel like you need to update us on how this all transpires. Write back, Freaking Out. We all want to know if you got roped into nekkid hot tubbing or not.
Love, Your Aunt Fatty (who thinks this conundrum is really hilariously amazing. Sorry not sorry)
Dear Aunty Fatty,
I have an umh ‘delicate’ problem. My cute little fur baby has gas. All the time. Bad, smelly, horrible, silent bombs. Help! Should I collect it to fuel my car?
Dear Watering Eyes,
ABORT! ABORT! ABORT!
Just kidding, you can’t just pack up and leave your beloved shit-smelling fur baby.
So, story time.
My aunt and uncle had a dog once who had the most rancid farts, they could legit melt the varnish off furniture. They were so bad, you could taste them hours later. (This dog also loved to eat all of the bad things that made him fart, then puke, so he could eat his puke and then fart puke-smelling gas bombs. It was a vicious, noxious cycle.) Yet, this was one of their most beloved fur babies.
Moral of the story?
No matter how many nose hairs they singe, we still love them. We make accommodations to make them and ourselves as comfortable as possible.
What I would suggest is to first make sure it is, in fact, your defenseless fur child. In all likelihood, it could be the dude at home. For years, Aunt Fatty’s own father got away with blaming, at least, half of his farts on the poor dog.
If it is your poor pup, just cover your nose and mouth with a pillow or spray some essential oil air freshener (my favorite is Fuck Me, My Eyes Are Burning) to cover the horrific smell, while reminding yourself that your fur baby eats the crumbs you drop on the floor and sometimes they make your life easier by eating their own poop. Sacrifices.
Your idea of collecting the gas to fuel your car is genius. I’d legit start working on how you can make that happen (hook a fatty up if you ever become rich and famous on your fart fuel).
Love, Your Aunt Fatty (who is retching a bit)
Dear Aunt Fatty,
How do I ask my boss for a raise to allow me to buy lunch for my co worker everyday, because she can’t remember to throw away her Tupperware? There’s enough penicillin growing in our staff fridge to cure a small country’s syphilis outbreak. Please advise.
Worried About Contracting Syphilis From the Staff Fridge
Dear Worried About Contracting Syphilis From the Staff Fridge,
Ah, the joys of workplace refrigerator sharing. I bet the microwave is an equally horrifying place.
Honestly, I wouldn’t even waste your raise on some chick who has zero regard for everyone at your place of employment opposed to having their food mingling with mold spores.
I’d pack my damn lunch in a mini cooler that I know isn’t growing bacteria and forget the cesspool of contagion that is your kitchen at work if it were me.
Yo, this is $13 on Amazon! Snatch it up before it’s gone!
You will almost certainly look like a construction worker lugging your bulky, plastic job, but it’s better than getting the plague from your hazmat work refrigerator.
Love, Your Aunt Fatty (who is really sensitive to smells or just the thought of smells so she repeatedly dry heaved writing this response, as she imagined how nasty that heathen’s two month old leftovers probably are)
I know ya’ll are a messed up group of people (who isn’t messed up in today’s world?), so get those questions in!
Contact me here, my weirdos!