Dear JT,

I’ve missed your columns. Where have you been? I’ve been calling and writing and talking to myself. Nothing. My whole life is all messed up. I have no one to tell me what to do. Please come back. I need your help.

Lonesome Loser

Dear LL,

Fucking great. Another needy bitch who wants me to do all the work. Do you think I have nothing better to do? So what if it’s my job to answer your questions. I was planning on finishing this fifth today and drunk texting my ex. She likes that, btw. I don’t care what the restraining order says. Besides, what the fuck is it to you where I’ve been? Maybe I’ve been in search of enlightenment. Maybe I was in a coma from a bad accident. Maybe I don’t enjoy hearing stupid shit day after day. Or maybe, I wanted to be left the fuck alone. In fact, since I specifically said, “leave me the fuck alone”, I would go ahead and assume that’s exactly what I want. I have enough of my own problems to care about yours. In fact, I wouldn’t even care about your shit if I was stoned and you were naked holding cupcakes.

You can still be naked and bring me cupcakes, I’m not dead, but don’t be expecting me to notice. OK, I might notice, but don’t be expecting me to care, that’s the point. I don’t care.

It’s apparent you don’t understand how this whole advice thing works anyway. You ask me a question. I consider answering it. I realize you’re a total idiot who’s never going to get a clue in my lifetime. I politely inform you that the best course is to go fuck yourself and we both walk away unsatisfied. Kind of like being married only slightly less annoying, and we both get to have sex on the side.

If any of this was confusing, here’s the plan. You need to get naked, bring me cupcakes, and fuck off. I need another drink.

JT

Dear JT:

I hate the new app that displays on Facebook where the fuck everyone is going …. so and so just checked into the grocery store. Why do they think we fucking care and is there a way to tell them to shut up? Would a nice piece of FB flair that says WHO CARES… suffice?

Fed Up

Dear F.U.

I’m sure you mean who the fuck cares! I know I sure as shit don’t. The only location important to me is where I am and even then, I’m only mildly interested. Why would I want to know where any of you are unless it’s to avoid your boring ass? Actually, your ass is not boring since you started that whole pole dancing class, but everyone else’s is so stop with the fucking I’m getting coffee, lunch, cat food, groceries and on and on and on, shit. I’m not your fucking wife and don’t need to know your daily itinerary. In fact, this is me so not caring, I skip your status every time I see that little square map.  Remember the old adage ”if you have nothing nice to say…”, Facebook version: “if you have nothing I find interesting to say, shut the fuck up!” and stop posting.

As to the original question, NO. No more fucking flair either.Do you have to compound annoying with more annoying? I also don’t want flowers or kisses or rainbows & teddy bears (Dori). And especially don’t be sending me a fake drink and declaring, “I just bought you a margarita”. You sure the fuck did not. I’m stone cold sober and that’s about the cruelest fake gift I can think of. But here, let me send some fake gratitude right back to you, assclown. I’m surprised you could take time away from your farm to send something in the first place. I swear, every application I block, twelve more pop up.

I think if you can’t incorporate my interests: booze, drugs, and sex, you have no business being on a social networking site.

JT

JT doesn’t like flair, but perhaps a nice dirty limerick would be in order. Send yours and other life questions to WTFWJTD@gmail.com. I’ll start with the limericks…

There once was a woman named Jill
Who swallowed an exploding pill
They found her vagina
In North Carolina
And her tits in a tree in Brazil

JT,

How can I contain this large, massage oil spill in Lincoln Park’s Colman pool? It is injuring wildlife, but the birds are really getting off together -so I’m quasi-reluctant to contain the spill. Your thoughts?

Slippery When Wet

Dear SWW,

Yes, I’m sure you are “quasi-reluctant”. As in, when they find out you’re the one who leaked K-Y Intense into the pool during ladies only swim, I imagine you’ll be forced to reluctantly clean it up. I do have to give you props for a pretty original idea. That was brilliant. But wearing a two-piece and laying at the bottom of the pool squeezing your bottle was creepy as shit. Don’t do that again, under any circumstances.

I haven’t quite figured out how you’re injuring wildlife though. Did you add it to the non-funblog’s sunblock and we have to watch the effects? Because that would cause serious, eye-poking, irreparable damage. Cramping and hurling just thinking of it and no amount of bathing with Dawn dishsoap is going to remove that image.

I’m actually starting to get a little up in arms about this whole oil debacle. Well not arms as much as other stuff and junk, which was kind of fun and shit at first, but four hours later and the pool still hasn’t absorbed the spill. Dudes are coming in now and if one more fucktard rubs up against me. My thoughts are, fix this mess and fix it right fucking now. And you can be damn sure I will be co-operating with the ensuing investigation.

JT

Got a nice “junk shot” photo you’d like to send to JT? Wiped the oil off your junk first, then send the pic to WTFWJTD@gmail.com.

Dearest JT,

The other night I had my first nocturnal emission since I was a kid. Let me clarify: one that I didn’t cause by myself. Is this unusual for someone who is well past 30?

Brgds,

Solo Wet Spot

Dearest Hands Solo,

I do not want to hear about your emissions. Not those during the day, not at night, not alone, not with someone. Not even the ones you fake to cover up for really being a bed wetter. What you do with that thing is of absolutely no interest to me. I may be a short, fat, German, but I am no fucking Dr. Ruth. I’m not even a real advice columnist. I am a real lesbian however, and would prefer you point that in another direction.

Besides, where the fuck is the request for advice in this post? I’m supposed to know why your body does shit in it’s sleep? And then what? Advise you how to do it more or less often? Fuck that. If I can affect people’s dream state, you can be sure I’m not headed into yours. I don’t care how big your man-boobs are.

Rather than wonder if you’re normal, let’s just assume you’re not. As a freak of nature who never grew out of puberty, take comfort in the knowledge you successfully got me to think about your dick for the last two and half minutes. I’d say you owe me at least a drink.

JT

What part of “she’s a lesbian” don’t you get? And you with the dick jokes…. Keep up the good work! Send your cock-related questions to WTFWJTD@gmail.com.

JT,

I am looking for a job. Would it be wrong in this day and age of huge unemployment and massive competition in the jobmarket, to just come right out and say I will provide sexual favors?

Desperately Seeking

Dear DS,

I was once responsible for hiring employees for a company. I can tell you right up front, in this economy, sexual favors are no longer nearly enough. You can try to jazz it up a little I suppose. Bring a friend along to participate. But anymore, I’ve seen it all. The funblog doesn’t even pay, and we’d still need you to add beer and a sandwich at the very least. Cupcakes and cigars for me. Well, maybe a sandwich for me too. I am kind of hungry. Can you bring vodka instead of beer though.

It seems you really need to be looking for a whole new approach. Something that differentiates you from the pack and says,I’m your best choice out of this whole field of sorry losers. Except, reviewing your resume, I kind of see we have a bigger problem. Twelve jobs in the last four months. You’re kind of an idiot aren’t you?

I’m now thinking freeway off ramps are your best bet. Will flash for cash. Cuz, besides the boobs, well actually, no, that’s kind of all you’ve got.

I am free for the rest of the afternoon if you’d like to practice.

JT

You can audition for the WTFWJTD Street Corner Carboard Sign and Boob Bridage by sending pictures of your funbags to WTFWJTD@gmail.com. Why not cc: Pete@westseattlefunblog.com while you’re at it!

To Whom It May Concern (including JT; excluding everyone else):

Where. The Fuck. Are you?!!!!

This is the biggest week in the history of the funblog and you’re nowhere to be found. We’re opening the door for KEXP and their Hood to Hood 2010 event, IN OUR OUR VERY OWN FUCKING BACK-FUCKING MOTHERFUCKING YARD!!!! Because West Seattle KILLED IT! The Funblog is cooperating with KEXP on this. This is HUUUUUUGE. We only know how to cooperate with YOUR MOM.

And you’re out of town…  You’re fucking out of town?

This better motherfucking fuckety-fuckin’ fuck be fucking good….

{{HUGS}}!!!,

Pete Seazle

(Full Disclosure: Fake Hugs)

Dear Mr. Seazle,

I understand that as a fake editor of a fake news site where I coincidently write a fake column, you think you’re all that and can talk to me this way. You can. Mostly because I really enjoy the word fuck and you showed an expert level in proper usage. But here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to fake give a shit. In case you’re not exactly sure what that looks like, it’s what your girlfriend does every day.

And another thing, FUCK YOU, you fucking fuck. Where I come from we don’t air our dirty laundry and personal “family issues” in a public forum. For instance, I haven’t told anyone that you prefer to wear pink stripper heels and lace panties while being the bottom. I always thought that was up to you to disclose if you were so inclined and I would never betray the sacred trust I thought we shared. If you had an issue with my fake work performance, you should have taken it up with me privately.

As to my being out of town. WHO. THE. FUCK. Do you think you are to question my allegiance to to all things West Seattle Funblog? Do we not have an Austin Chapter of the funblog because of you? I realize you don’t give enough of a shit about these people to show your fucking face, but some of us do take our fake responsibilities seriously. I’ve learned if you want a good performance out of your staff you need to do a little stroking. I happen to prefer the personal hands on approach over phoning in it like most dudes.

I’m beginning to think even your name, Mr. Pete Seazle, is a fake.

JT

Pete Seazle is hereby issuing one demerit. To Luigi Linguini. For not letting Pete know this was an approved vacation and subjecting him to this verbal bitchslap in public. Send your virtual hugs to JT at WTFWJTD@gmail.com.

Dearest JT,

I missed Saturday Night Live this past weekend, but all I’m hearing on FB this week is Betty White this and Betty White that. Now, don’t get me wrong, I like Betty White, but she’s no Bea Arthur. That bitch had nice cans.

Can you explain the Betty White hype?

Thanks,

In a Maude Mood

Dear MM,

Fuck if I know what the deal is. I mean, I admit when she was offering everyone a taste of her muffin I was a little curious, but I’m not going to run around screaming I love sweet grandma muffin. You know I do. A great muffin is still a great muffin, but the way some of these people are carrying on you’d think they’ve never seen her use an oven before. It’s like what, three, four days later and still with the Betty, Betty, Betty.

Now Bea “Maude” Arthur, on the other hand. Fuck yes! You know a grandma with that kind of mouth knew a thing or two about muffins. A woman who tells you exactly what to put in, and how much. The right amount of heat and the proper duration. Everything clearly splayed out for you. You know what you’re eating up front and you either take it and goddamn fucking like it, or walk away and shut the fuck up.

What were we talking about again? I’m hungry.

JT

Did you know JT’s favorite song is “Stuffin’ Martha’s Muffin” by Mojo Nixon. Stick that in your piehole. WTFWJTD@gmail.com

And in case you missed it, A Tribute to Bea Arthur…

http://www.westseattlefunblog.com/entertainment/a-tribute-to-bea-arthur

Wtfwjtd,

My dumb boyfriend says all lesbians like stickers and pets, but I think they just like beaver. What do you think?

Curious

Dear Curious,

This the kind of thing that keeps you awake at night? Pets I can see, I guess. Never met a lesbian that didn’t have one or ten roaming around the house. I think it’s in the handbook.

But stickers? Paper that has a picture or saying on it with an adhesive backing? No one told me about this rule. Is this cuz I put all that crap on the back window of my truck? Had nothing to do with liking them, I just can’t stand you driving behind me watching every fucking thing I do. I might need to play air guitar, or light something up. I don’t just have a random sticker fetish where I go around plastering everything I see with rainbows and unicorns. Where does your boyfriend even get this shit?

You’re kind of not a whole lot better, though. We only like beaver? Only? If I could pick one thing for that proverbial desert island, well yea. But vodka and pills are pretty fucking important too. And you know I love my cigars. And cupcakes. Chocolate cupcakes. And don’t even fucking talk to me in the morning without a latte in your hand.

You know, there’s a whole bunch of shit I like. What I don’t like however, is breeders and their stupid stereotypes about things they know nothing of. It’s simply a coincidence that I drive a big truck, am fat with shortish hair and happen to like flannel shirts and big comfortable shoes. And who doesn’t like female firefighters in uniform. They’re fucking hot already!

Instead of thinking you know who I am or what I like, why don’t you go home and enjoy your grocery store flowers and rented DVD. Maybe a walk on the beach holding hands and if you decide to put out, there’s got to be at least ten minutes of cuddling in it for you before someone wonders what the baseball score is.

JT

Want to listen to some Melissa Etheridge or just kick back and watch Ellen with JT? Email your availability to WTFWJTD@gmail.com.

Dear JT,

I sometimes find myself playing air guitar on my leg while driving, which is fun, but a trucker once saw me and made fun of me. Do I need to break this bad habit?

Guitar Hero

Dear GH,

Unless this is a euphemism for whipping your dick out in traffic, this is by far one of the more stupid questions I have ever received. But yes, break your fucking habit. I don’t give a shit about any trucker making fun of you, but I don’t want to see that thing while I’m driving in my truck. Not a fan of getting sideswiped either when your head rolls back and your eyes close.

Taking your intellect into account, I would also prefer you didn’t read the sports page, shave, brush your teeth, answer emails, or eat Chinese food with chopsticks. In fact, what are you doing driving at all? “Air guitarists” are either stoned or twelve year olds. Neither of which belong anywhere near me. That’s not true. If you’re stoned, you can be around me if you’re sharing, but not in the fucking car.

Are you stoned? Cuz I’m out again.

Call me.

JT

Wanna get high and listen to some Zeppelin? Go for it. But drop some weed off at JT’s first. Get directions at WTFWJTD@gmail.com.

Dear WTF:

While listening to one of my favorite Carpenter’s songs… I noticed that one of the lyrics is: “Why do birds suddenly appear, every time… you are near….” BUT: I have also seen “The Birds” by Alfred Hitchcock and so am confused as to the message here. Can you help?

Confused

Dear Confused

I’m in a really bad mood and this is a really dumb question. What message? Where? That a word or phrase can’t express or symbolize two different, yet similar things? Have you been to school? Fuck that, have you been outside? I can’t imagine you weren’t called an asshole at least once today. You can talk shit, but that’s entirely different than actually spewing feces.

Or were you wanting me to explain Carpenter lyrics and Hitchcock movies? No big mystery there, pardon the pun. The birds are, well actually, just birds. In one they want to be close to you presumably because you’re so wonderful. In the other they want to be close to you presumably because you’re fun to attack. So? Apparently you can’t trust birds. Maybe they want to sit there and look cute. Maybe they want to poke your eyes out. More than likely, they just want to shit on you. Welcome to the real world. We all want to do that.

Why don’t you let me know when you’ve moved on to Captain and Tennille lyrics and then we’ll delve into your psyche and get somewhere really interesting. In the meantime, you may want to know that new music and movies have come out since the 60’s and 70’s. You should have a listen.

JT

JT wishes you were a bird as she has a pocketful of Alka Seltzer with your name on it. Email further stupid questions to WTFWJTD@gmail.com.