Why did Sally want to become a chicken?
She grew tired of life and just wanted to spend her remaining years on a farm,
Why did the chicken cross the road?
She didn't. She was run over by a truck making her nice, tender and juicy.
You are so wise and always give great advice.
I need to ask you a personal question. I recently asked a guy I found attractive out on a romatic date. I have been single for a while and I'm not quite sure what to do. Can you help me?
Dear Gentle Reader,
First dates can always be awkward. And one must always be prepared. Dear Rory has several tips to make the date a SUCCESS!
Tip #1: Throw his cellphone into a river or a glass of water. Just say it was an accident.
Tip #2 Order the most expense thing on the menu. That way he knows you are "Down For The Pushing"
Tip #3 Wear a female condom because you never know what is going to happen and who wants an icky icky baby throwing up on you all day and all night.
Tip #4 Douche front and back. Most gentlemen like anal. (this is important)
In no time at all you will be married or crying into a bucket full of ice cream if you do not keep that flower(s) fresh and clean.
Happy Hunting! I wish you all the best.
You are so wise and I need your advice now more than ever.
How can I decide if my writing is finished? Should I walk away? Go get a drink? Throw it away and start all over? Sincerely, Carrie S
Dear Carrie S,
Yes, this is one of the most difficult of questions, as most of my gentle readers know. Dear Rory spends maybe one or two hours a week trying to help people with my wonderful advice! It is so hard being a creative person *sigh*. I feel the pain. I just love humanity and want to help.
Is it good enough? Is it strong enough? I always find myself questioning that.
First of all you should always have a drink in your hand. ALWAYS!
It keeps the creative juices flowing and brings happiness to your heart (aka liver).
Secondly, who are you writing/painting/making art for? The answer should be yourself.
It's hard to know when a piece is "finished". As a rule of thumb, Dear Rory will make a painting in a night and then call it good, then sign it. Once signed, it is done. One's mood changes so much from day to day that it changes the piece.
Keep it as it is, and start something new!
All My Love,
P.S. keep creating!
Where can I buy one toe necklace My wife is laughing she does pedicures and wants one for work
With all my Love,
Dear Gentle Byran,
I am so happy to hear for your wife's love of amputated phalanges. She is absolutely in the right line of work to give pedicures!
Sometimes fingers and toes simply fall off. It happens. And there is no better way to use them than to make a necklace!
But sometime you can only "accidentally" cut off a few fingers or toes without looking suspect.
Luckily Dear Rory did minutes upon minutes and found you a solution. For the low low price of $3, you can buy your wife the gift of her dreams that she will treasure forever!
You are welcome.
Dear Gentle Readers,
Yesterday Dear Rory had a few cocktails (probably about 17) and grew bored of the the bar. I decided to go "get some fresh air" and go exploring.
While Dear Rory elegantly stumbled around the neighbor hood; there a sign that said 50% sale at the Levi's store. Hence:
After this Dear Rory found his favorite nail shop and decided it would be a wonderful idea to get a pedicure .
Then a pedicure sounded like a good idea. Sure, why not? The manicurist then asked if I wanted "color"? Dear Rory said yes. Red,
So lovely! Enjoy.
I am sure Hemingway, the cat that is not our cat, had something to do with the car break down. (he has thumbs and and wants more jungle adventures):
He is so Precious!
Dear Rory's car, Thurston, has been a bit of difficult beast to deal with always. After pouring thousands of dollars into his repairs and mantience in the past few months(we want to keep him healthy). His heart (the battery) decided to die.
The words are best told in my husband's story:
Oh Thurston, why do you have to be such a little bitch?!
Today was a fun one! After discovering that his poor little heart had given out (dead battery), our friend Randy tried to give him a jump in the garage today, to no avail. It's also not possible to simply buy him a new battery and swap it out, as his computer requires calibration to the new battery via BMW's diagnostic tool that full service shops utilize.
So it was obvious that he would need to be towed to our regular mechanic, which in and of itself isn't a huge deal. A quick call to roadside assistance was made and after informing them that he was inside our building's garage with limited access for tow trucks, I was reassured that one of the proper sized trucks would be dispatched to scoop him up. Instead, what looked like a 40' platform truck arrived.
Well, alrighty then, we can make this work. After I single handedly held 4 lanes of traffic up on Clayton St, he was able to back into our driveway. The next fun move was getting Thurston out of the garage. If only I knew how much fun that was going to be, I probably would've just given up then and decided against ever driving him again.
As I eased into the driver's seat and placed him in neutral, the friendly (/sarcasm) tow truck driver positioned himself at the hood so that he could start pushing him out while I steered. This had just begun when the tow truck driver disappeared from my view in a flash and I realized we had some sort of a problem on our hands. I quickly put the car in park and upon approaching where he used to be standing I realized that he had slipped in some accumulated oil/grease from Thurston's engine and was now howling in pain with lacerations on both of his arms and an alarming amount of blood beginning to run from them. I quickly ran to the trunk to retrieve a roll of paper towels (pro-tip: ALWAYS keep a roll in your trunk for just these kind of accidents) so that I could fashion makeshift bandages which were secured with a roll of scotch tape from my mobile office supply kit.
It was at this point that a friendly neighbor parked farther in the garage (and who we were now blocking not only with Thurston, but with the tow truck driver's platform truck in the driveway) began to voice his displeasure with his path being blocked. Apologies were thrown about and we resumed our project of removing Thurston from the garage, which was highlighted by the fact that there were now 2 large bloody handprints on his hood from where the tow truck driver was pushing him backwards. I managed to complete the 90 degree turn out of the garage without incident, but due to the grade of the driveway and our current speed, it seemed prudent to apply the brakes and have the tow truck driver complete this part of the process.
I probably should've warned him that I was going to brake, but the windows were rolled up and without a battery, it certainly wasn't possible to roll them down, so brake I did. Evidently it was a little harder than I thought, because I then saw the tow truck driver's hands slide up the hood, smearing his bloody handprints as the car came to a rather sudden stop in the driveway with his face grimacing at me through the window shield.
With the car in park, we now changed places, but not before I had wrapped the steering wheel in more paper towels and covered the hood of the car with them so that I could resume the pushing part.
It was during this process that another neighbor, approaching from Clayton St. joined in the chorus of neighborly displeasure at her lack of access to the garage, but at this point I was kind of done with apologizing and may have forgotten to do so.
The rest of the event went off relatively smoothly, with the tow truck driver spending the next 15 minutes very methodically securing Thurston to his truck for the drive to our mechanic. The neighbors loved this part!!!
Once Thurston was properly buckled in for his high-flying ride to the mechanic, I once again stopped 4 lanes of traffic and he began his journey towards a new heart.
I know that I've made fast and furious friends with 2 neighbors that I've never seen before and hopefully, never will again.
So the take-away from all of this is you can never have enough paper towels and you should always keep at least a roll or two in your trunk!
(not pictured, the pile of bloody paper towels that I removed from the car steering wheel, car hood and driver's arms before giving him a fresh roll for his drive to the mechanic.)
Dear roryian (Dear Rory),
I was dancing with a girl in a club and we made eye contact. After some time we danced and I got the courage to show her my feet.
Soon after she pissed all over my shins and exposed toes, does this means she likes me?
Dear Gentle Urine Covered Reader,
Dear Rory understands your confusion as many of our other readers have been in the same situation.
Dear Rory has many questions. First of all is she German? If the answer is yes; then she really really likes you and wants to have the "sexual relations" there on the dance floor.
Secondly, is she a cat? If so she, is marking her territory and wants to have "sexual relations" there on the dance floor.
Third, is she over sixty? If so her diaper may have fallen off, and she really wants to have "sexual relations" there on the dance floor.
In any case, in the word of South Park Caytlin Jenner "Buckle up buckaro; you are in for a wild ride."
And the answer is YES! She likes you.
Best Advice ALWAYS,
Dear Gentle Readers,
Dear Rory made it back from Montana in one whole piece! (mostly)
I lost a toe, my mother went overboard on cleaning and yard work.She never stopped. And every single store we went into thought we were all insane. No jokes there. Everyone stopped and just stared at us.
esides the toe, I still have it in the freezer and I am planning on making a necklace! Please donate all you can. Dear Rory pays $5 a toe.
We had a lovely time painting tree stumps.
Playing "Captain Rory"
Everyone is lucky to still be alive. And seeing wild life!
It's a moose. For the most part (mostly) it was a lovely trip. Please enjoy my fashionable outfit to protect me from insects.
Dear Rory is happy to be back in the city though.
Oh and I won $500ish on my first roll on a slot machine! Dear Rory is wise, so very handsome and just cashed out!
Dear Gentle Readers, travel travel travel. Dear Rory will be at his family's lake house/cabin for the next week. They swear they have wi-fi, but Dear Rory finds this claim to be a bit dubious...
So Dear Rory will most likely be offline for the coming days.
As I pack the cat that is not our cat, aka Itty Bitty Shitty Kitty is very upset that we are leaving and and has been sitting in our luggage.IDear Rory does not know if he wants to come with us or shit in our plants out of anger.
Dear Rory thinks he is planning to murder us. Yes, it is probably murder.
If you do not hear from me in the next month, call the police because the cat killed me in my sleep.
Wish me luck.
Dear Rory loves gardening. There is no better way to fertilize your new garden but with a freshly severed head! (or five)
Sometime heads are the perfect way to start a new garden. Head are full of important nutrients to get get your garden growing! (Plus get rid of that stupid slut whore that paid $60+ million for an ugly ring down the block) She deserves it.
May your garden bloom with your love!
I'm the owner of an amazing bakery that is doing quite well with a great reputation and a steady stream of customers.
All of that is nice, but I just find myself bored with it all. I feel like I need to create something new to keep me interested, but I haven't come up with the new "cronut" and I'm beginning to get frustrated.
Do you have any fun ideas that I could give test at my shop?
Bored with Baking,
Dear Concerned Baker,
Dear Rory knows and understands your conundrum. The last time I tried to make a bacon flavored cronut, my kitchen exploded in flames. It was a disaster; my cat caught on fire and ran around the house catching all of my drapery and the upholstery on fire... Such a shame. $30,000 later most everything has been fixed. Expect the cat, he is dead.
So to avoid death and massive furniture costs Dear Rory recommends to keep it simple. And you are in luck! Dear Rory saw a wonderful infomercial last night as he was eating ice cream. (ice cream = cocktails)
Just like Grandma used to make.
Nom Nom Nom.
You Are Welcome,
Dear Gentle Readers,
I have recently been accused of being a "Serial Killer" on the Facebook. I am shocked and amazed that I am the killer in this group. ( it is obviously the lady wearing plaid in the middle)
Dear Rory does not harm animals, nor does he like them.
Yes, I could kill you and take a bath in your blood. That sounds like fun!
Come into my kitchen and I will chop you up into little pieces. Shhhh... It will be over soon.
I have recently inherited quite a bit of money (I'm a fucking MILLIONAIRE!) and am back on the market for a new girlfriend. I am very specific in what I am looking for in a potential mate. She must be 5'2", to match my height, know the "Swedish Slide", the "Norweigan Nookie" and "The Finnish Funnel".
This is non-negotiable.
Please send your advice,
Dear Dirty Dave,
Thank you for writing in. I am glad to hear you are back on the market and looking for someone new. There are so many fish in the sea, and nothing catches a fish like a million dollars as bait.
After speaking to your one ex-girlfriend who only gave you a "handy" in the back of your shared cab; she told me you were a "Shit Stain" that doesn't tip and smells of tacos. But a very nice guy in general.
The only solution to your problem is to immediately fly to the beautiful Nordic countries you mention, bring a hard copy of your bank statement and get to fishing!!!
You have so much to offer, like your money, money and some more money. Did I mention your looks and money. You are golden my friend!
Eat those Norweigan berries to your delight.
All My Love,
My husband has consumed two pints of ice cream in the past two days. I find it shocking and am concerned, What should I do?
Dear Gentle Rory,
This does seem to be a very concerning situation. Two pints seems to be excessive in Dear Rory's opinion.
Is his health OK? Is he lacking calcium? Does he need the fat? Is he feeding his tapeworm?
This could be a very dangerous problem. Tapeworms are vicious and angry creatures that are well known to crawl out at night and eat arms, legs and cheeks. (They really love the face as I have been told)
After exhausting research, Dear Rory has found the solution! It's simply a lock that not even a stoned/drunk adult could open:
Best of Luck.
Tonight I had a hook up at the grossest apartment I've ever been in.
I didn't even want to sit down on anything. and the smell of mildew and mold... I can still smell it in my nose, you know? as soon as I could get out of there politely, I wrote a long text to my bestie to describe the situation, clicked send. then, horror. realized I had texted the guy whose apartment
I had just left. I feel bad. my text was scathing. what do I do?
Dear Gentle Reader/Mega Asshole,