Yes, you have all read or perhaps even wrote to many agony columns. I felt that the blog would be lively if I have one of my own. An agony column. But wait, I won’t do it. I have zero knowledge of human psychology and the most I can offer to the sufferers (especially if they are hot babes) is a shoulder to cry on.
To take on this arduous task, I looked around and finally found the right candidate, Brother Bailvan Bairavan (BBB). Besides his burly feature, Bairavan is a caring person and is the right person for this column. Besides, I owe him some money. We shall now go on air. I will read the letters, and BBB will offer the solutions or advice, or even some cookies to calm you down.
BBB That’s right, you yellow bellied scumbag. Now, lets get back to the business. Read your first letter for today.
Me Here’s one:
Dear BBB, my name is A (though my friends teasingly call me Idiot). I fell in love with B (whose real name I cannot reveal unless you don’t mind stupid names like Bolinda). B is not in love with me. In fact, B is in love with my dog, Aristotle, which, last week, ran away with my neigbour’s cat. Oh, dear BBB, what can I do? I can't peel the onion properly these days and the stress is too much for my family that my mom OD’ed on caffeine the other day because we can’t have onion in our cooking.
B Listen, you twit. I don’t give a rats’ ass about your B or your dog, but I think it is against any religion for a cat to get hitched with a freakin’ dog. You freakin’ buzzard (ed. cleaned up version of you F***king B****rd)! And get a freakin’ onion peeler or something. Get this bugger outta here!
Me That was very helpful, BBB. Thanks. Next letter:
Dear BBB. In case you can’t see me, I am a girl, age 18. If you do see me, I am sorry I lied. Otherwise, things are okay at home except that I find increasingly annoyed with my brother’s addiction to Eminem. He listens to it day and night. I can’t stand it, especially the song Stan.
BBB Dear girl age 18. It just so happens that I like Emimen too, mohahahahah. And you know what, I think you are weak. I think you are jealous that your brother got better taste than you. And I suggest you take your Britney Spears CDs and shove it up you know where.
Me. Take it easy, BBB. You shouldn’t impose on , aaaaarrgh! What the hell is that? Okay, okay. I’m okay. I’ll read the next letter:
Dear BBB. I have a good relationship with my boyfriend, Max. Everything is fine. We have dinner together almost everyday. He is nice, kind, gentle and caring. A perfect boyfriend. But…but…he hasn't proposed to me yet. He never talked about marriage. What am I to do? The problem troubled me so much that I find myself constantly driving in reverse gear. Please help me, BBB.
BBB That’s easy, girl. Put the freakin’ gear back to one. What the hell did they teach you in driving school, huh?
Me Errr, BBB, she’s talking about her boyfriend. Remember? The Proposal?
BBB Yeah, right. Here’s the deal girl. If he ain’t approachin’ you, why not the freakin’ hell approach him instead. It gives you more power ain’t it, instead of whining like a little girl. Neneneneneneee! Come here, I want to pull your ponytail.
Me Haha! That’s err…funny, BBB. What you really meant was probably different, right?
BBB What’s the matter? I run the show, bub.
Me Yeah. But you know. You got HELP this people, not make the situation worst. Your right wing attitude….aaaaaarrrgh, somebody help meeeeeeeeeeeeee……….
Thus endeth BBB’s short career...unless someone got budget for sequel.