Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Dear Albrecht

Friends, I am pleased to announce the addition of a second staff member here at Hats and Rabbits: Mr. Albrecht Soothspitz. (That's him in the picture.) Anyway, I am mostly pleased. He sort of forced me to let him write an advice column on account of he followed me home from a backpacking trip in Europe. He had been lost in an old forest for centuries when I came upon him. He followed me into a bar and got some dirt on me and threatened to use it if I didn't let him guest post. Anyway, welcome Mr. Soothspitz. He will be contributing as he receives requests for advice. Please feel free to ask Albrecht for advice via our "contact" page. Our first letters:

Dear Albrecht:

My daughter just started dating a young man and I believe he might be addicted to "huffing" paint. His nostrils are always rimmed with a strange shade of violet. I want to point this out to my daughter, but I am afraid I will alienate her. I don't want her to get the sense that I am trying to run her life. She is sixteen years old now and I want to give her some space. What advice can you offer?

Signed,
VACILLATING OVER VIOLET


Dear Vacillating:

It seems to me that your daughter has all the space she needs right between her ears. Why don't you flush Sammie Sniffer's nose out with turpentine and lock your daughter in the larder like we used to do in the old days? And slap a chastity belt on her for good measure. (Not sure how easy they are to get these days, but I can give you the address of a bloke I used to use during the Renaissance. Crap. That wont help you. Just put her in the larder and be done with it.)

Albrecht.
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Dear Albrecht:

I know it used to be considered rude for a man to offer to shake the hand of a woman whom he is meeting for the first time. Does this remain proper etiquette in today's world?

Signed,
RELUCTANT SHAKER

Dear Reluctant Shaker:

Who am I, Emily Post? At least try to stop being an ass.

Albrecht.
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Dear Albrecht:

My friends send me Christmas cards every year, but one of these friends has an extremely ugly pair of kids. I mean, to the point where I don't want to hang the card on the fridge for fear I will lose my appetite going in to get lunch. Any advice?

Signed,
AESTHETICALLY OFFENDED

Dear Aesthetically-Offended,

Hang the thing up then invite your friend over for lunch. Let him go to the fridge for a stein of ale. Let this progenitor of hideous beasties reap what he sowed. If he is forced to vomit on his own feet after laying eyes on the contagion he has unleashed upon the world, maybe the message will get through to him and he will pick a nice nativity scene for next year's card.

Albrecht.
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Dear Albrecht:

I am a professional athlete. Lately, people (and a little prison sentence) have been indicating to me that I ought to trim back on some of my less than appropriate habits, including strangling/electrocuting dogs. But, damn it, I dig the occasional sadistic romp. Moreover, all of my friends, growing up, did these things, too. In your neighborhood, you might have played "games," but for us, it was all animal suffering and other various innocent larks. I am who I am. Furthermore, I didn't ask to be a talented athlete. I feel no obligation to be a role model for anyone's kids. Please advise.

Signed,
TIRED OF THE JUDGEMENT.

Dear Tired:

As you can see from my picture, I come from an era where people were brutally tortured for nothing more than thinking the wrong thoughts. Go eat a lump of cancer, you immoral, psychotic, mud-brained sack of elephant mucous. Your obscene salary (unhindered since your prison discharge, I'm sure) is built upon the backs of the entertainment-starved parents whose kids watch you play. You step out of line again and I will find you and put you in a medieval doghouse the likes of which you have never known.

Albrecht.
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Dear Albrecht:

I am an elderly man who has always placed the utmost energy and intensity into fashion and appearance. I am currently in need of a walking stick. I am a city-dweller and want to pick a sophisticated cane that broadcasts my savoir faire to passers-by. Any suggestion on types of wood, construction or the like?

Signed,
IRVING LEAN.

Dear I. Lean:

I like to carry a walking stick with a rapier hidden inside so I can quickly impale foppish cretins like yourself when they ask me asinine questions. (Of course, you should check the legality of this in your state. In medieval Stankburgen, impaling annoying strangers was common or borderline encouraged. Your modern metropoli might have slightly different customs.

Albrecht.
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Dear Albrecht:

I am a 55-year-old man. I am happily married but I work with a woman who is 28 and to whom I find myself deeply attracted. She is buxom and moves with the seductive grace of a Rubenesque ballet dancer. When she comes over to my desk to give me papers or to discuss work issues, her perfume and the soft curve of her bosom just about drive me into a sexual frenzy. I can't stop thinking about her, but I don't want to cheat on my dear wife, Connie. What should I do?

Signed,
TEMPTED

Dear Tempted,

Call me on my cell.

Albrecht.

(Disclaimer: The  opinions stated by Albrecht Soothspitz are not in any way shared or endorsed by the management of this site. He's clearly not "right" in the head.)

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