Hello Everyone and Welcome Back to the Worst Relationship Advice on the Planet, dictated by the chicken and hereinafter referred to at times, although not solely, (unless indicated within Part B, Subsection II.a of Section 4, within the latter part of the First Addendum) as WRAP - as in, "That's a WRAP." (It's my new catch phrase. What do you think?)
Today's letter comes from a chick who seems distraught for absolutely no reason. Plus, I think she's crazy, but don't take my word for it. See for yourself.
Dear Big Chicken,
My fiancé, while adorable and hunky, is quite the womanizer. He is constantly sleeping with friends, enemies, my mother, etc... He keeps telling me that he can change, that he is fully capable of amazing change, he just doesn't feel like it right now. And then he tells me to stop coercing him into being faithful. He says it's a turn-off - like when people turn perfectly good ground beef into meatloaf instead of hamburgers. Then he goes on and on about hamburgers. Then he says he needs to go get a hamburger, but instead he ends up sleeping with my friend, Jennifer. I just don't know what to do. Oh, and he dresses up like a large chicken.
Sincerely,
Anonymous
Dear Anonymous,
Thank you for your letter. In order to address your topics in the order of importance as I see it, I first need to tell you that you didn't actually include a question anywhere within the text of your pathetic attempt at control of your boyfriend.
That being said, I have no qualms, since I am a big, magnanimous, column-writin' chicken, about addressing your concerns as stated above.
First, I think he is absolutely right about the hamburger.
Second, I didn't realize Jennifer was available. Sweet.
Finally, you are quite obviously an overbearing, controlling person who is probably hated within every social circle of which you are a part, and do you think that your boyfriend could help me make my chicken suit? I didn't realize it would be so hard!
Z'Chicken.
Send your relationship questions to me at zbigchicken at gmail dot com, or don't, and just wait for my unavoidable Unsolicited Advice.
That's right, you heard it here first: unavoidable. Remember the times when the only certainties in life were death and taxes? Well, welcome to the wave of the future, my fine feathered friends, 'cause I am adding Unsolicited Advice to the list of certainties. You can thank me later, but first, could someone show me where to turn off the italics?
Thanks. No, that wasn't it. Ahhh, here it is...
thanks.
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