Dear Mr. Man-ners:
I have a co-worker and he always smells foul. It’s like onions mixed with garlic mixed with dirty socks. I don’t know how to approach him about it. And then there are days when he wears so much cologne it just makes it worse. He’s foreign, so I don’t want to be insensitive.
Wants to Do the Right Thing
Dear Wants to Do the Right Thing:
Tell him he’s "not living in the jungle where water is in short supply." Okay, that wasn’t too sensitive—but it’s what I’d say! Another suggestion is to ask him "if he knows that turtles breathe out their asses" (true!)—and say he "must because he smells like a big smelly fudgy asshole!" Hey, if you wanted sensitive—you NEED to write to someone else!
Mr. Man-ners
Dear Mr. Man-ners:
I’m depressed and have thought about suicide. Life just feels too hard to live. Help! Sometimes I think my life is soooo screwed up that I should just end it so I can start over again (I believe in reincarnation).
Scared of Life
Dear Scared of Life:
More like “Scarred by Life.” I’m going to have to get me a new unpaid intern if I keep getting these depressing letters (Hell, it was so depressing I almost cut my writers with the envelope--and paper cuts hurt)! Anyhow, I’ve thought long and hard (sounds sexual doesn’t it—but if you were getting some, you wouldn’t be suicidal!) about your problem. The ONLY thing I can say is that life is NOT like a video game—if you’re losing you can’t just restart it—because UNLIKE a video game, even if you do start over, you won’t start over KNOWING what you know now. So get over it—and get yourself some help! And stop writing a wackjob humor columnist who's head if full of Freud’s theory on Mangina envy!
Mr. Man-ners
Dear Mr. Man-ners:
Did you know that Richard Millhouse Nixon’s name contains all the letters to create the word criminal?
Politician Watcher
Dear Politician Watcher:
It's called stalking! But, you’re right! And I don’t disagree that when you use an anagram, sometimes you come up with an apropos statement. Like when I mixed up the letters to your name. It contains all the letters to create the sentence; “Crapin Whale Tit Oil” (bet you didn’t know that!). If the crapin whale fits, or the tit oil fits, wear it! Hell, you letter stinks so much, your probably ALREADY did.
Mr. Man-ners
Dear Mr. Man-ass:
You’re so stupid your ass is the only manly part of you. You give dumb advice—and people listen to you. Well I won’t.
Hate Your Guts
Dear Hate Your Guts:
Interesting, very interesting. At least I have an ass--you're just full of shit! For someone who claims to NOT listen (how can you listen to a column, are you blind or deaf or just plain DUMB?) you certainly know a lot about my writing. And I KNOW better! Lame people with lame questions (or in your case, DUMB comments) ALWAYS read my column to see if their DUMBASS LAME QUESTIONS got answered. So I don’t believe you hate my guts—because I just made you famous! But if I ever see you I’ll spread your innards on the ground like they were road kill. Do you hear me Mr. Postal Service Worker (the letter arrived with NO stamp, how stupid do you think I am? NOT!).
Mr. Man-ners
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