by Trixie Kitsch on July 3, 2012

I am a 40-year-old man who has never had a good day in his life. I have no friends and my job is so boring. I pray each night that God will take me, but every morning here I am. Is there a trick to liking this horrible thing that is called my life?
—Norman P.

Dear Norman P.:

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My mother-in-law gave me an electric-green rayon sweater for my birthday. It’s like she deliberately gave me the one item of clothing that clashes with every skin tone. I think she spent a lot of money on it. What should I do?

Dear Daughter:
Stuff it in a glass bottle filled with gasoline, light it, and throw it at her house.

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I would like to get a house pet, but I simply can’t tolerate the conventional kinds (i.e., dogs or cats). Dogs are too needy, make all sorts of demands, and act like sex slobs around company. Cats are too snooty and spooky. What do you think of pigs as possible pets? I hear that some people find them just as companionable as dogs or cats. What are your thoughts?
—Single Gal

Dear Single Gal:
How about a man as a pet? They too are needy, make demands, and act like sex slobs around company, but unlike most dogs or cats, they have opposable thumbs and can lift heavy objects and do yard work. They don’t require a license and become quite docile after neutering.

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I’m a 24-year-old laborer who is trying to make a better life for himself. I want to attend trade school so I don’t have to dig ditches for the rest of my life, but I don’t have the money and I don’t qualify for scholarships and grants. The guy at the loan office laughed when he saw my credit record. Now it looks like I’ll be digging ditches until I’m 45 to save enough to go to school. I really don’t want to join the army, but I will if it’s the only way. Any alternatives for me?
—Loser For Life

Dear Loser:
Commit a felony. Then the state will enroll you in all kinds of educational programs. And you get to watch TV and work out for free, too.

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When you buy your groceries and the bag boy says, “Paper or plastic,” what do you choose?
—Just Curious

Dear Curious:
I ask for plastic. Since I don’t have any children, my legacy will have to be landfill.

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Trixie Kitsch is the nom de plume for Lisa Agnes Hammer. She was born in 1961 in Dubuque, Iowa, and studied fiction writing and fine art at The University of Iowa. Her writings have been published in The L. A. Weekly, The ICON and Julien’s Journal. Her first book, Dear Trixie: Bad Advice for the Stupid, was published in May of 2011 by Gasogene Press.

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