Dear Uncle Howie:

I got all sobered up and everything at a juvie farm out in the hills. While I was there, somehow I ended up being a heavy metal rock star. Far as I know, I'm the only sober rock star, heavy metal or otherwise, on the entire planet Earth.

What would you do if you was in my situation?

One Man Trashcan Heavy Metal Band

Dear One Man Trashcan:

Hey, I know you! You're that Feral kid who just got back from juvie camp.

Hey man, being a sober rock star, particularly a heavy metal rock star, is just fucked up. I suggest you make a beeline to Elvis' trailer in space #54 and get your mind sufficiently altered so you can continue to generate a rock star's income. The way your ma runs barefoot and nekkid through money, you're really gonna need it. She's got a great-big monkey on her back right now, and that monkey has the face of Ben Franklin.

Don't jeopardize that income of yours -- your parents are gonna need it for gas to fuel them nice nonbeater vehicles you bought them, and also for booze and dope and other trailerpark necessities. Start working on your next hit now -- you've been elected to support your folks forever.

Dear Uncle Howie:

Willy and I are back together! Willy and I are back together! I knew it would happen, if I just waited long enough. Of course, both of us are still in the nuthatch, but we are living as husband and wife in here, sharing the same bedroom after lights-out when he sneaks out of the unstrained-male section into the unrestrained-female section and slithers along the floor into my bedroom.

The only problem is, there's this one great-big mean nurse named Eva who drags Willy back to the unrestrained-male section every time she catches him in my room. Willy tied a string to my finger and we had some kind of Pagan wedding that he officiated himself, so we're legally married. How can I convince Nurse Eva that it's okay for folks to sleep together in the nuthatch when they're married?

Happily Married

Dear Happy:

Hey, I know you! You're that crazy cat lady in space #8. I was wondering why old lady Beadle was going up to your trailer twice a day. Now I know -- she's feeding your cats while you're in the nuthatch. I knew Willy was locked up, but not you.

The only advice I can give you is don't piss of that nurse named Eva. Every one of the neighbors here in the trailer park (and there's a lot of them) who have done time in the county nuthatch says Eva's the one who lights all the inmates' cigarettes in the walled courtyard outside. Get on her bad side, and you go through nicotine withdrawals. So just hang in there and wait until you and Willy are back home before you officially start living as man and wife and consummating your marriage loud enough for the whole trailerpark to hear.

Dear Uncle Howie:

Hey you redheaded juvenile-delinquency instigating redheaded motherfucker. Did you encourage my recently sober kid to fall off the wagon?

Peeved Pop

Dear Peeved

No. You can thank Elvis for that.

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