2003newsletters

Here's another pathetic schmuck:

Lou - (California transplant)

I've always been really lucky in love in the past. I've never been without at least one girlfriend at all times since I was in gradeschool. But since I moved to California from West Virginia, I've had no luck at all finding me a decent heffer. I have resorted to paying for sex. Do you know any good street corners in particular for finding hookers? I'm thinking maybe I might find one lookin' for a relationship.

Signed, Desperate, but a Real Catch -

M. L. - (Dontmakemegetarestrainingorder, USA)

Do I look like a pimp to you? What makes you think I know where the hookers hang out. I'm afraid you have misunderstood exactly which services I provide. And another thing, aint' no hooker you find gonna be lookin' to start up a relationship with you unless you're filthy rich. Considering what I can make of your background, I doubt that's the case with you.

Lastly, dating your cousins and sisters and various other relatives does not make you lucky in love. Therefore I suggest that if you really are lookin' for companionship, you move back to West Virginia where some women obviously don't take offense to being called "Heffers".

Mistress Lushuss - Advice Goddess!

We're gonna start off the year with a doozie:

Jerry - (New Jersey)

I always party hard on new years eve, but this time I think I may have really done myself a big bad. New years day I woke up in a dumpster in an alley, wearing nothing but a bra and a party hat? I seem to have had each and every protruding body part pierced... multiple times. I tried to catch a cab, but none of 'em would stop for a naked, stapled, swollen man. I did finally get a ride... from the COPS. Seems there's a law against public humiliation. Well, when I got home, my girl was real mad and she left me. How did it all hit the fan so fast ...Help!

Signed, Riding Sidesaddle -

M. L. - (Definitely not Jersey)

I guess the real question at hand is, How many times were you dropped on your crazy, lumpy head when you was a baby? Obviously the drugs and booze you're mixin' aint a winnin' combination. I'm afraid you may have to get used to sitting down from now on when you pee. As for your girl leaving you, alls I can say is, find someone a little more adventurous. But the good news is, I've heard of a couple of nightclubs in Jersey where you may find yourself quite the hot little ticket. I'll send ya the names and addresses.

Mistress Lushuss - Advice Goddess!

Welcome to our "Why Inbreeding is Bad" Issue:

Jo Donna Billi Bob Thornbaker- (Who Cares)

H'lo Miz Lush. Mebbe y'all cud hep me out abit. Mun name is Jo Donna Billi Bob Thornbaker and muh bro Billy Bob Joe Don Thornbaker rekamends you hylee. Muh problem is thet ah dont look like the rest of muh famly. They all has these grate big ears and nozes and six toes on the lef foot --- Ah dont! Ah has itty bitty ears and noze and only five toes on each of muh feets. They iz alla time sayin thet ah iz the isshoo of a eyetinerint preechur man what went thru the Holler bout 15 year ago. This jus makes me feel unwantid, ugly and lef outa all the famly fun. They think ah iz ugly and wont even have no rolls in the hay with me! Some big city boys come thu here last week an they said ah wuz a Babe, whatever that means, and they sure were hot for the hay... iz that good or bad? Pleeze hep, ah iz loozin muh self steem.

Waytin fer yer hep, Jo Donna Billi Bob -

M. L. - (Anywherebutthere)

In a calm collected tone I am tellin' you to JUMP ON THE NEXT CITY BOY WHO COMES THROUGH YOUR TOWN AND RIDE HIM ALL THE WAY TO CIVILIZATION. It's not like that family of yours can catch ya, trying to run with all them extra toes. Not to mention the wind resistance created by those flappin' elephant ears of theirs.

Mistress Lushuss - Advice Goddess!

Welcome to our "Viva La Summer Vacation" Issue:

Lurla- (Utah)

I was wondering who does your beautiful hair stylings. I myself was blessed with a rather thick dank head of hair. And no matter what I do, I can't seem to find the right style. The humid summer weather sure doesn't help any either. My husband Jiggy says my head looks like a knappy, dirty punching bag. I swear I've tried everything. Jiggy says he's about to go and take the hedge clippers to my head. Should I let him?

Signed, Dread, Locked -

M. L. - (Somewhere Slightly Ripe)

What's your problem? Anyone threatening me with something sharp is holdin' themselves wide open for a groin rupture!

Me personally, I just back-comb, back-comb, back-comb. When my hair finally gets so dense and matted I can't back-comb anymore, I just slap on a wig. And as for your husband... I think you should go and shave his head and hot wax his eyebrows off while he's sleepin'. That'll teach him to mess with ya.

Mistress Lushuss - Advice Goddess!

The Mistress Lushuss' Beautiful Memories Issue:

I was gonna answer a letter today like I am supposed to, but all the letters that I've been getting are just piles of putrid, whiny, boring, crap. So instead, we're gonna talk about something interesting for a change... ME!

I was born to royalty, they were extraordinarily unfortunate derelicts, but royalty just the same.

My parents gave me up for adoption when I was just one year old. (See above orphanage picture). Thank God, because that was the incredible foundation for the fabulous creature you see before you today. If Ed and Shirl hadn't adopted me and taken me into their trailerpark bosom and raised me as the Goddess that I am, who knows where the world would be today.

Unfortunately this was only to last a short time. A few years later Ed and Shirl were blown up, along with the trailer, in a freak propane / chicken incident. So I took to the streets with my half sister to avoid going back into the child welfare system. Things were really pretty sucky for a while, but we survived, clawing our way to the top of the heap.

To this day, I never look back in fear of my past. Because if I did, I wouldn't be where I am today. And I certainly wouldn't be sharing my awsome powers of guidance with y'all.

Mistress Lushuss - Advice Goddess!

Hemorrhoiods, You Know I Love'em!:

Will- (Texas)

My goat has hemeroids. Real Bad... I'm not really sure what to do about it. Since she lives in the house with me, she keeps ruinin' all the furniture. I don't really wanna tell her she ain't allowed on the couch or at the dinette cause the last time I did she slapped me retarded and told me she was gonna go home to her mother. I mean ...well... actually she ain't my goat, she's my wife Erda. But the problem's still the same. I'm thinkin' about buyin' some of them plastic furniture cover thingies.

Signed, Will from Texas -

M. L. - (Righthere)

First off, you got a real problem if you're confusing your wife with your goat. What's that all about... Well maybe I don't wanna know.

Second, you know what... they actually sell ointments for this very problem. So next time your out joy-riding in your tractor, burnin' up the highway, why not make a trip into town, stop off at the general store and buy some. In fact, you can probably make a fun little game out of the hole thing. She can make barn yard sounds while you apply. For some strange reason, I have a feeling that'd be right up your alley.

Mistress Lushuss - Advice Goddess!

Gender Bender Schmender:

V.- (Obviously and Ignernt town)

I want to know how you got so smart, learnin' all them secrets to succiness. You remind me of a friend I see occasionally. Did anyone ever tell you you look like a turnvestite type a person? How did you get your modelin' job on the inter net t.v. screen. I'm not sure what you were tryin to learn me with your fancy technical stories, but I'm sure they are making as much sense as this letter. Ya all have a great day.

Signed, Your Buddy V. -

M. L. - (In a tin-can sweatbox)

To get the ball rollin'... you sound like you have some sort of attention deficit problem. You been eatin' too much boiled peanuts I think. I can't hardly follow your letter. And by the way, I like the way you sneak that insult in between the compliments... Bitch.

As you can surely see by my very first ballet recital photo above, I am a delicate flower that is all woman (and then some). What is the secret of My Success?... Let me think... NONE OF YOUR DAMN BUSINESS. I haint come this far just ta let some uppity city girl steel the show.

Hugs and Kisses...

Mistress Lushuss - Advice Goddess!

A Star is Born:

Big Shirl- (Brainerd)

First off, I wanna say how much we enjoy your column. There's some real pearls of wisdom there. I was wonderin' if you ever get out this way. A little birdie told me you have a stage show and we'd love to see that. You'd definitley be welcome out here in Brainerd, we're bored as crap.

Signed, Waiting with baited breath -

M. L. - (An exclusive trailer park)

Don't...... Stop...........................Dontstop......... I'm always glad to meet a fan. Usually from a distance is better. So thanx for sending a letter instead of showin' up on my porch.

To answer your question; right now I'm not doin' any shows. I've been concentratin' on this here Advice Column. I figure I can help more people this way (unless they're ugly or just plain stupid or something, then screw 'em). So in the mean time, you'll have to be content with hearin' from me monthly right here. I have enclosed a childhood picture of yours truly from the "Child Welfare Talent Fanfare" show that I starred in so many years ago. I was so damn fabulous even then...

p.s. My adopted Mama's name was Shirl too, before she blew up!

Mistress Lushuss - Advice Goddess!

I just love these kinds of letters. People are constantly dumbfounded by my voluminous talents. You should see their faces evertime I take the stage. And anytime I can talk about me, I'm thrilled to bits. Talkin' about me is always better than hearin' from some goofball with some stupid problem. I've always been my favorite subject...

The Mistress Lushuss' Beautiful Memories Issue - Part 2:

Besides, I recently lost alot of your letters due to a unforseeable lava-lamp accident. They were all just a bunch of crap anyways, so lets get back to something more pressing............

...Viva La Moi

Early on in my life I realized that I was meant for more than street livin'. I just couldn't take all the dirt and urine. So one day I made up my mind to get me some education. Not having any money at the time, I decided to sell my half-sister Flo to a carnival that was passin' through town that summer so's I could pay my tuition at St. Ignauseous School for Girls. The sisters welcomed me with open arms and after hosing me down, gave me clothes and a place to sleep.

Since the money I got from the carnival wasn't quite enough for that first year of school, the sisters let me work off the rest of my tuition by stringing rosaries for the convent. It was blind Sister Mary Myopic who taught me the tricks of the trade.

This all went very well during the few months it took my sister to escape the "Freak Show" and track me down. Of course once the sisters found out what I had done they gently suggested that the chaste holy life of convent living was not for me. So, the sisters and I parted ways and Flo and I made amends with our pasts. Even to this day, Flo and I have to laugh when we hear the carnival is in town. Well, maybe It's more me who laughs, she just kinda twitches a bit.

Mistress Lushuss - Advice Goddess!

Since the May 2003 release of the "Mistress Lushuss' Beautiful Memories Issue", y'all can't seem to get enough of me. So I felt another installment would be the perfect way to wrap up this last section of newsletters featuring a pictorial tour of my fabulous youth. So here is another chapter in my story.

Welcome to our "Freaks, Geeks and Weirdo's" Issue:

Herman K.- (California)

Will you go out with me? I am totally and completely obsessed with you. I downloaded your pix from the net and have plastered them all over my bedroom and bathroom walls. I think about you every waking moment. Why haven't you answered my letters. People say I look alot like you so I'm going as you this Halloween to the West Hollywood Halloween Carnival. I've tried to find out where you live but have had no luck so far. Can I wear your panties please.

Signed, Massively Fixated -

M. L. - (Somewhereyoullneverfind)

Maybe I should be flattered but I'm not sure that I am. The reason I have ignored your previous letters is in an attempt to shake you and your gross obsession. Truthfully this is the first letter that you have sent that is fit to print. So finally, I will answer your question...

No I will not date you, probably. I have no intention of ever meeting you in person, perhaps. And you definitely cannot wear my panties, maybe. And finally, the next person who intimates that I look like a man will get themselves bitch-slapped into next year...

p.s. Did you notice my sexy new Halloween picture this month?

Mistress Lushuss - Advice Goddess!

The Mistress Lushuss Beautiful Memories Issue - Part 3:

I remember vividly, one Christmas eve (before the afore mentioned tragic trailer explosion) sitting around the Christmas tree listening to my adopted Great Granny Hirty tell tall tales of Christmas' past. Granny told fantastic stories of Christmas whimsey and fantasy. The one I remember best is the one about the escaped mental patients pretending to be Santa Clause. They would break into peoples trailers and eat the bad little children alive. Of course we never believed a damn thing she said so this didn't stop us from slipping stool softener into her Christmas moonshine flask.

Well that night Granny noticed that my half-sister Flo wasn't payin' proper attention. So, Granny Hirty jumped up from her rockin' chair where she had been leanin' her toothless chin on that horrible knobby twisted cane she used, and whacked the hell outa poor little Flo. This was normal in our home but Christmas made it worse. Every year Hirty decorated her cane with frilly red ribbons, Christmas bulbs, and rusty old fish hooks.

Flo and I spent the rest of Christmas Eve waiting in our bedroom for Santa to come bring us presents as I picked splinters out of her scalp......Merry Christmas Everyone...

Mistress Lushuss - Advice Goddess!

Since all y'alls letters were just too flippin' depressin' for me to deal with, I decided in the interest of my faithful readers, as well as myself, not to answer any of them but to flush them down the toilet. So, instead I will treat y'all to another installment of my life's story. Just consider this an early Christmas present.... Your welcome!

Cat Pee and Jealousy:

Crystal Blue Doolyburd- (Won't admit where she's from and I can see why)

Howdy... My Granmama luvd sum stupid song and thats how I git my name. Anyhoo, my problem is my cat Sankel. He keeps a folloing me arund. He meows at me an iffin I sits he's on me like a fly on s**t. He bites me and humps my leg and smacks me wiffin his paw. Last night when I comes home wif my boyfrend, and he wint to kiss me, Sankel torn into him lik someone opinin a berthday prisint. Whot is the matter wiff Sankel? Whot can I do cuz I luvs him but I luvs my boyfrend mor. I'm almost fifteen and knot maried yet. Plese help me!

Signed, Ready to hitch -

M. L. - (Not safe for me to reveal)

Wow, it's been a long time since I had to decipher hardcore hill-speak! Reminds me of my days with crazy ol' Uncle Rhubarb. But I digress...

Having spent a considerable amount of time with backwoods boys myself, I'd really have to say I'd go with the cat instead. He'll keep you warm on cold nights without farting under the sheets so much or droolin' on your pillow. Besides why take a chance ot birthing some three eyed baby anyways. Get outa the gene pool honey. Seriously.

Mistress Lushuss - Advice Goddess!