Uncle has got a hankerin' to do some good in the world using nothing but folksy wisdom, years of hard earned life experience and his left typing hand (the right one is otherwise ocupado).

The point is to really help those lonely pathetic types that frequent these kind of cry for help forums.--Hence, I am fully engorged to announce my deep pulsating entry into the world of unwanted advice columns for big babies and the mentally incompetent!

Of course, you've heard of such advice givers as that ancient, useless, meddlesome hag Dear Abbey (is that crone dead yet?)... and also that one angry gay guy who insults people about their sex lives--but now your Uncle is throwing his pork pie hat into the ring and offering his all night services!--ladies welcome, gentlemen have to sneak around back.

Do you have questions about relationships, sexing, cooking with dutch ovens, woman time menses, squirrel de-meating, and or how to pleasure yourself jail style with a bag of Jello, etc...I can help! Drop me a line. Uncle knows best, don't you dare tell anyone what goes on here--you're Mommy would just be mad at you. It'll be our special secret.

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Have you ever noticed how Massachusetts looks like a drunk Possum passed out against a dumpster?

Were you my piano teacher?

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-=- You eat one lousy foot and they call you a cannibal. What a world. -=-

Stephenie Meyer.  Seriously.  What the fuck?

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It was such a waste of everyone’s time and money that even the Tokyo stadium’s rape robots apologized– something they were programmed specifically never to do.

Dear Finn,

Well, I don't "tinkle the ol' ivories" myself, never played a lick in fact... but I HAVE given lessons to many an eager young student in the past and they always seem to remember me!--So, it is entirely possible that I helped you learn your fingering as a supple young boy. As I recall, you used to twinkle the hell out of that star.

We'll have to get together and play dueling "Chopsticks" like I taught you!

XXOOO(  O  )xx00

Maestro Terwilliger

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Have you ever noticed how Massachusetts looks like a drunk Possum passed out against a dumpster?

Dearest HC,

Stephanie Meyer? Oh right!--the heavy set gal with no discernable writing talent who cashed in when she wrote the "Twatlight" series! (I had to "Google" it.)

Well, never underestimate the ability for young girls, gay men and unfulfilled housewives to pick up on the promise of romance in the arms of a mysterious vampire lover. Why are the pale undead so alluring? I don't know...mayhaps it's the icy cold penetrating eyes of a bad boy lover who has been learning the secrets of a young woman's heart for centuries and it's not until he met you that he remembered what it means to be human. Or maybe it's the visceral danger that he could sink his hot fangs into your neck at any time, penetrating you so forcefully...and yet, so achingly gently at the same time. Literally marking you... claiming you as his own for all eternity. And he would do anything to protect you, HC...anything...

I don't know...I've never read the books or seen the movies. Besides, I'm team beastiality. I mean Jacob!--Team Jacob.

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Have you ever noticed how Massachusetts looks like a drunk Possum passed out against a dumpster?

Are you one of those artificial intelligence bots?  Am I?

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Legend, oh legend, the third wheel legend...always in the way.

Two feet,

 I have an artificial colon from when I was, ironically,"in the shit" in Nam--the rest of me is all too real.

 You could very well be A.I., like that creepy Haley Joel Osment in that one movie...the name of which escapes me.

Letter Close,

Terwilliger_UnitJ11-32M

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Have you ever noticed how Massachusetts looks like a drunk Possum passed out against a dumpster?

Most of the other girls have gotten their periods. When will I get mine?

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Kill Whitey.

Hello A.A.,

Well...the answer is right in your name--your anger is probably causing a lot of tight clenching in your uterine walls and your balls. I suggest forcing yourself to watch a full episode of 'The View',  this should help your estrogen levels reach full maturation, allowing your Flux Capacitor (which is what makes bitchy monthly visits possible) to finally release some "ketchup with your steak" and start attracting all the lesbian vampires!

Then, just sit back and an enjoy a feminine flow so all fired mighty, that Moses hisself might show up with forty jews to try to part it!

I should tell you, however, that as a proud American lady, you do have the option of having your "Aunt Flow" outsourced to India.

Give me a call if that doesn't work...I think I have another way to jump start it for ya.

U.T.

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Have you ever noticed how Massachusetts looks like a drunk Possum passed out against a dumpster?

Everyone calls my girlfriend a "butter face", yet when I rub toast on her cheeks, it's still dry.  I fear I may be taking a metaphor too far, but one little part of me says "no man, you got the right idea, your girlfriend indeed has butter in her face and you need to USE that shit!".  Luckily my girlfriend has been really patient with this process, and I feel like I'm so close to the solution.

My question is, how do I explain this situation to my wife?

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"He was cursed with a horrorshow of a face, like Guiseppe Archbold doing a study of mollusk tumors."

Dear Zmannzilla,

  If I had a haypenny for everytime I've heard this question I would have a full sawbuck! The Amish have a butter extraction method which is fairly self explanatory, but here is a diagram just in case...

As to your wife, just wait until you have collected your ugly girlfriend's butter and tell her casually about your folly over a toast and jam breakfast. --If I know anything about the fairer sex, it's that they're completely calm and reasonable...and that they love the smooth wholesome taste of rich creamery butter!

Hope your wife's not bitter, and this makes your butter better.

Sincerely,

I can't believe i'm not your Uncle

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Have you ever noticed how Massachusetts looks like a drunk Possum passed out against a dumpster?

ZMannZilla wrote:

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Everyone calls my girlfriend a "butter face", yet when I rub toast on her cheeks, it's still dry.  I fear I may be taking a metaphor too far, but one little part of me says "no man, you got the right idea, your girlfriend indeed has butter in her face and you need to USE that shit!".  Luckily my girlfriend has been really patient with this process, and I feel like I'm so close to the solution.

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Yes.

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Have you ever noticed how Massachusetts looks like a drunk Possum passed out against a dumpster?

Uncle T, do you have a recipe for ho'cakes?

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Chicken Feather Bed Bugs Bunny Hop Sing Out Side Street Walker Texas Ranger Cookie Dough Boy Wonder Years

I do have a recipe for Hoecakes:

• 1 cup self-rising flour


• 1 cup self-rising cornmeal, or from a mix (recommended: Aunt Jemima's)


• 2 eggs


• 1 tablespoon sugar


• 3/4 cup buttermilk


• 1/3 cup plus 1 tablespoon water


• 1/4 cup vegetable oil or bacon grease


• Oil, butter, or clarified margarine, for frying

It's best if you dry them on some paper towels...they can get pretty oily.

  Nothing funny here...I think I'm supposed to say something mean like, "I got this recipe from your mother last night...and she was as moist as a Duncan Heinz snack cake." -- But the truth is, that I got it from from doing a simple search for Paula Deen on the Food Network, she has a warm, folksy charm and a lot of butter laden recipes.

Those will keep in the fridge for up to two days! (Whore's blood syrup optional.)

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Have you ever noticed how Massachusetts looks like a drunk Possum passed out against a dumpster?

Why does Giada De Laurentiis of the food network make my penis self-rise? And what recipes can I concoct with this ingredient?

What recipes can you make with your penis?--Spotted dick. The British love a good dick dish.

Giada...yeah, she's okay if you like that whole "untarnished beauty" thing...not my type personally.

I tell ya who I like, that little round lesbian with the spikey blonde hair they got on their talking about "Diners and Divin' for muff". She's got an attainable prettiness and I feel that I could turn her around and set her straight in the back of that little red sports car she's always drivin' around.

Thanks for your ridiculous question!

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Have you ever noticed how Massachusetts looks like a drunk Possum passed out against a dumpster?

Dear Uncle Terwilliger,

I think I love you.  Is that wrong?

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“It is only with the heart that one sees rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.” - The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry (1945)

As far as I'm concerned, nothing is ever wrong... unless it involves two pieces of fried chicken as the "bread" of a sandwich.

  As your moniker is gender ambiguous, no telling if you can write your name in the snow or not. Can I write my name?---I can punctuate the hell out of it.

Either way, M or F...I'll stuff your pocket, Pita.

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Have you ever noticed how Massachusetts looks like a drunk Possum passed out against a dumpster?

DEAR UNCLE TERWILLIGER,

i have been dating a wonderful man, let's call him "Brad" going on 4 years now. the conversation is still as good as it ever was, "you won't get away with this," "dear god let me out of this trunk," "will i ever see my website again." no, the problem is our sex life. it's all one way. i'm always the pitcher and he's always yogi bare ass. and don't get me started on forbidden tonsil pleasure. whenever i try to switch it up and have him orally satisfy me, he consistently tries to bite and run for the barn door. it's getting so stale, i even went so far to mix it up and bring other people into the relationship. but he didn't seem to like Cletus or Zachariah any more than he likes me. what should i do?

--Plowing away in Poughkeepsie

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what if nigger meant kite

Dear Plow King,

 "Brad" sounds like a real catch! My advice to you is to not let a little case of "the biteys" get in the way of what is obviously the real thing!

 Try to remember the passion that kept you going in the beginning---the feeling you used to get when you watched him through his window with a pair of binoculars while nestled in his children's tree house and then listened to his breathing with a stethoscope through his bedroom wall until 5 in the morning. Remember the day you asked him for help jumping your car and the look of joyous surprise as you first helped him into your trunk.

I think you'll find that every relationship has it's ups, downs, crying jags, begging for the sweet lord's mercy, nipple clamps, nylon rope and ankle shackles...that's just the normal eb and flow of love. Keep in mind that Brad's mouth might still scream "Just let me go home you sadistic asshole!", but his heart may just be wanting you to give him the same level of attention from you that you used to give him. Do you still yoke his balls as much as you used to? Do you tend to his rope burns every month? Do you take the time to notice that he still pretends to struggle as much as he did when you first met? 

Why don't you give the old ball n' chain a treat and the two of you get out for a night once in awhile. Carelessly loosen his bonds and pretend not to notice when he makes a break for it, then you two kids run around your darkened farm all night...my guess is, he'll "let you" catch him by sun up.

Hope this helps,

P.S. I think we run in similar circles, as Cletus and I used to "drive up the dirt road" with the steel mill workers in Kalamazoo--do extend my regards.

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Have you ever noticed how Massachusetts looks like a drunk Possum passed out against a dumpster?

Dear Uncle T

 Ever since this Christian Service Center opened on the floor beneath my apartment I have lines of loud, assistance seeking people lining up under my bedroom window at 9AM looking for a handout.

 I work 3rd shift. I seldom get to bed before 6AM and these inconsiderate fucks wake me up about 3 times a week. 

 Here is a video from last Thursday when there was some kind of basket giveaway. I guess my question is Sarin, napalm or my finely aged urine?

Thanks. You rock more than Dear Abby for the most part.

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Kill Whitey.

Damn. Maybe this'll work....

http://s64.photobucket.com/albums/h196/Swamp_Lummox/?action=view¤t=DSCN0319.mp4

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Kill Whitey.

Still couldn't make out your vidya...

W.M.D.'s might not help you get your oh-so- precious beauty sleep as much as you might think; what with the screaming, countless rolls of duct tape on your end and general level of chaos. As is my motto in life, "When in doubt, whip it out." Pee on the poor!--it's practically government sanctioned to piss on those less fortunate!

 In fact, it's the American way.

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Have you ever noticed how Massachusetts looks like a drunk Possum passed out against a dumpster?

UncleTerwilliger wrote:

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As far as I'm concerned, nothing is ever wrong... unless it involves two pieces of fried chicken as the "bread" of a sandwich.

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