Dear Uncle Howie:

My life is a wreck right now. First, my kid broke into the new guy's snack bar and got away with who knows how much beer. Then, he gets all hammered on the beer and decides to ride his bike around the trailer park in the middle of the night. Long story short: my kid is currently being detained at a work camp out in the hills someplace.

That ain't the worst of it. During my kid's arrest, my husband ran out into the driveway in his underwear and got into a knock-down drag-out fight with the cops who was busting my kid. Another long story short: my husband is currently locked up in the county jail.

What would you do if you was in my situation?

Distraught

Dear Distraught:

Hey, I know you! You're that big gal who lives in the quintuple-wide in space #68. Wow, so Timmy's at a work camp and Pop's in the slammer, huh? That sucks. You know what I'd do if I was in your shoes? I'd go and boink the new guy's lights out in space #43. I mean, think about it. You weigh, what, 400 pounds? That guy owns a food business! In case you still can't put two and two together, how's this? If this snack bar's a-rockin', don't come a-knockin'!

Dear Uncle Howie:

You're not gonna believe what happened. I got attacked by a gigantic blob. I'm not kidding. This huge monster of a fat chick showed up to my snack bar and threw me down behind the counter and I swear, she raped me. I didn't think it was possible to rape a dude, but she managed somehow. When I asked her why she picked me for that godawful attack, she said you told her to do it, and that I'd like it. I'm only gonna ask you this once, you redheaded rape-instigating motherfucker. Did you sick that monstrous fat chick on me?

Smashed Flat

Dear Smashed:

No way, dude. It wasn't me.

Dear Uncle Howie:

Can you do me a big fat hairy favor? Keep a eye on my wife while I'm locked up, will ya?

Caged

Dear Caged:

Uh, sure.

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