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This week, advice is being
given out by Westwood's only one man medieval monastery, Brother Pious
Fellatio, and Snatch Rider, a legend in himself, with an enviable soft
porn career in the late seventies.
Dear advice, I have
been going out with this guy for about a year now, and everything was
fine, until I came home and found him kissing the dog and playing with
its thing. He said that he had had these feelings for a while and wants
the three of us to sleep together. What should I do?
'Tis folly indeed to sleep
with the four legged one. In doing so you shall become one with the beasts
and the lord shall smite the for coursing against nature. Fie, thee shall
burn in purgatory when the judgement comes, the good lord will show little
mercy for a defiler of the hound. Cease from these bestial games, or your
fleshy spine will bear the weight of a thousand sinners.
Baby, baby. Let me tell you
a little something. Back in the eighties when my career was, how should
I say, not at its peak, I did some work with animals. And let me tell
you, some of the best love I have made has been in the farmyard; chickens,
goats, dogs cats, you name it, I've loved it. And let me tell you one
more thing honey. Even if you decline this fine opportunity, your man
is gonna be makin' some doggy love with out you. So get with the program
and love that puppy.
Dear Advice, It's like
a traffic jam, when you're already late. A no-smoking sign, on your cigarette
break. It's like ten thousand spoons--when all you need is a knife. It's
meeting the man of my dreams and then meeting his beautiful wife. And
isn’t it ironic, don’t you think?
Listen here wench, it's women
that brought evil into this world. Our world was a fine one, and the good
lord hath created a paradise, and then came you, foul harlots and bringers
of misery--forcing Eden the way of Beelzebub to a Babylonian den of iniquity.
Irony, why spake thee of this. 'Tis a construct of the devil and his kind.
Fie, he comes again to my flock. Let it be gone from this place, purge
the land of this scourge, or if not, all manner of beasts and pestilence
will rain from the skies
Baby, Baby, you sound tense.
You sound to me like you need a love meal. For an aperitif, a massage.
Then a large portion of serpent pie followed by some mmm, mmm creamy desert.
Then, baby, when you've had a taste of some of what I've got, you won't
care about anything except when you gettin' the next dose of my love medicine.
I'm the doctor baby, now come over here and I'll give you the special
injection.
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