Dear Amber…


3rd Bunker on the Left, Compound

Dear Amber,

  Some of the other deities and I have a bet on about whether or not your advice column and itself is some form of advanced satire or not.  On the one hand, a lot of people are laughing at you, but on the other, your advice for mothers of masturbators is completely in line with My will.  So it’s a tough call.

  We’ve all agreed not to turn on the omniscience, (those of us who have it), to decide this bet.  Although I’m tempted to switch it on just for a minute to make sure that Smertrios isn’t cheating.  You can never trust those Me-Damned, filthy, foreign deities.  We’re all meeting at the Mt. Olympus Bar & Grill next Wednesday to lay Our final bets before turning on the omniscience and settling up.

  That’s why I’m writing to you.  I figure, since you’re the advice columnist, you’re the go-to person when readers ask, “Is this shit for real?”  Personally, I’m leaning toward “For Real”.  Your advice alone parallels My will so closely when you say things like;

“Masturbation will make your daughter very comfortable exploring her body, and it will not be long until she begins to envision other people partaking in the deviant behavior with her.”

  That is so dead-on.  There is nothing that gets up My left nostril like masturbation.  I’ve lost count of the number of people I’ve had to smite for it over the years.  It’s pretty much the only thing I have time to smite for these days, but don’t spread that around.  And you’d be surprised at the identities of some of them.  Jimmy Carter?  Monkey spanker.  Benny Hinn?  He’s dated Palmela Handerson, (and, by the way, Benny Hill – hardly at all, go figure).  Stephen Baldwin?  Plays one-handed baseball every single time no one is looking, and sometimes when they are.  You ladies, too, of course.  Michele Bachmann hits the slit.  So, surprisingly, does Barbara Bush.  She shuffles her iPod at least three times a week.  There’s also, and I can understand why you didn’t mention it – you.  You’re almost constantly slamming the clam.  When you’re not doing that you’re turning Japanese or double-clicking the mouse.  No matter how many times I smite you for it, you never seem to even cut down.  Remember when you slammed your finger in the car door that time?  That was a Righteous Smiting from Gawd.  Remember when you lost your car keys and found them a week later in the freezer on top of the ice cream?  That was a smiting, too.  The time that dog chewed up the shoe string on your left sneaker was Divine Retribution for having a knee-trembler, as well.

  Admittedly, I’ve never been very good at spotting satire.  But it’s very important that I’m one of the winners, (hopefully the only), of this bet.  If that hack, Allah, gets it right and I don’t, there will surely be weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth.

Wish You were here,


P.S. – Please don’t print this postcard and your answer in your column, as that would ruin the whole point of getting inside info.  Just keep in mind that it’s not only My Will, but it’ll be a poke in Allah’s eye as well.


15 responses to “Dear Amber…

  1. That bet’s a no-brainer. No doubt, James Dobson and Tony Perkins are jealous of Amber – they’re not nearly as articulate as she is. I suspect they got really hot and bothered when they read her advice on masturbation.

  2. Now if ‘twer a male masturbator, these work wonders. So do these

    But, of course, ya’ll are omnipotent, so you may have already known this.

    Oddly, I don’t think the Victorians came up with an anti-masturbation device for females.

    • Wow, (((Billy))), that’s… that’s… I dunno. Astoundingly horrific. No anti-masturbation device for females?! I’d hardly call that fair.

      • You sound surprised. You were unaware of the Victorian anti-masturbation and anti-wet-dream devices? One of the nice things about being an historian is that I come across things like this occasionally. And for some reason, they stick with me.

        • Just surprised that no one came up with something for the ladies, really. But although I’d heard of the anti-masturbation devices, the thought is still horrifying. I’m just glad my folks didn’t know about them when I was growing up.

      • How about THIS for a female anti-masturbation device?

  3. (((Billy))):
    As I recall, a number of Victorian ladies regularly visited their doctors for relief for hysteria or some other nonsensical condition. I also read that doctors sometimes found the manual stimulation required to achieve their relief rather tiresome. Those were in the days before the miracle of batteries, I guess.

    • I’ve also read that doctors at the time thought that women had no natural sex drive and it was unnatural for them to enjoy the sex act itself. Of course, they also thought that lower class women were oversexed and drained their men which is why they remained poor instead of bootstrapping themselves up into the middle class. I thought that hysteria, at the time, was considered a symptom of either too much sex, too much thinking about sex, or too much touching.

      Good thing we live in a day in which the human sex drive, and the pleasure of sex, is considered normal and natural, right?

    • “…found the manual stimulation required to achieve their relief rather tiresome.”

      So, times haven’t changed as much as you’d think, huh?

  4. Benny Hinn? He’s dated Palmela Handerson


  5. I’m guessing is an elaborate satire, but my experience with such things is limited.

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