Take my advice!


This is a new feature where people will ask for my advice and I will give it to them. It can be about anything. I do this on my friend David Lawrence’s radio show every once in a while, but that’s mostly a test of my improv skills where I make shit up. This is actually stuff I know a lot about and can help you with. So if you need advice, just ask me and then I will help you. Like this girl:

From: Becky

Date: Nov 27, 2007 9:45 PM

find me a guy

Date: Nov 28, 2007 10:32 AM

Dear Becky,

I’ve been thinking alot about this. You need to improve your image. Go to a nudist camp. That way, when you meet a guy, you can say, “I just got back from a nudist camp”. This will start them thinking about you naked and add to your allure. Also, the same goes with lesbians. Even if you don’t like it. You know what you should do? You should try and hook up with a chick in the dressing room at Victoria’s Secret. Seriously. Then you can tell a guy about it and he will propose marriage right there. Like you were trying on bras or something and the saleslady will come in and help you and you just start kissing. Trust me, I know you think I’m kidding, but this will work. It will create a buzz about you that guys like. Like some guy will say, “Oh yeah, that girl Becky, she seems nice” and the other guy will go, “Nice? Are you kidding? That bitch is crazy! She hooked up with some chick in the Victoria’s Secret dressing room!” Then those guys will get a boner and want to have sex with you. Problem solved!



  1. Richard “Boner” Stabone was a character masterfully portrayed by Andrew Koenig in the classic family television series “Growing Pains.” Despite the inappropriate schoolyard speculations about where this nickname originated, it was revealed in a flashback episode that, upon meeting little Dicky Stabone on the first day of school, Mike Seaver thought “Dicky” was a stupid name, and instead innocently formed the nickname by adding an R to the last four letters of Dicky’s last name. And so “Boner” was born thusly.

  2. Hi, Ginger!

    Eric, you’re on the Lawrence Welk Radio show? I thought that show ended in 1957. I guess my Grandma is a big fan of yours then. I like your stuff too, but only in that reflexive, ironic way, kinda like the swing music comeback of the late 90’s. I’ll be into you for a few years until the next recycled, regurgitated fad comes along and erases you from my memory. But you will always be my Squirrel Nut Zipper! XOXO

  3. My aunt and uncle own a timeshare at Lawrence Welk Resort, north of San Diego. They are big timeshare people, but the benefit for me is that they can go there anytime they want and use the pool and hot tub. There’s nothing like being in a hot tub with 3 topless old ladies you met just half an hour ago.

  4. Eric, I need your advice!

    Should I continue getting my wacky Uncle Steve fake I.D.’s? It makes me uncomfortable. I love him a lot, but it makes me feel bad when he says we’ll go play basketball and then I show up at his house and all he wants to do is cut the front pockets out of his jeans while I hand-wash his bed sheets(Boy, he gets a LOT of nose bleeds). It’s happened 6 times this week! He also lives out in the mountains in a little cabin and half the time I have to walk or ride my bike there because he’s always stopping by at 2 or 3 am and taking my car without asking. And sometimes, not often, but sometimes his basement smells like rotting meat.

    He’s been pretty strange lately, and I am starting to get a little suspicious. Is my Uncy Steve secretly dating a woman that he thinks I won’t approve of? What should I do?

  5. So I was hoping some of you funny people would be my friends. I don’t really have anything to say about Eric F.’s “improv advice” he lists above. Although it did teach me that apparently, all men love lesbian nudists. In their imagination. (In real life they are problematic.) How do I know? I am one. So yeah, you know that makes you want to hit me up now.


  6. Where am I? I don’t know who I am. All I know is I woke up on the sidewalk with the most horatious bonar I’ve ever seen. That’s right, all around me were piles and piles of manuscripts from 19th century Scottish minister and author of books and hymns, Horatious Bonar.
    I would check my ID, but just as I came to, I felt my wallet being tugged from my pocket, and I had a strong taste in my mouth of ginger ale.
    Can anyone tell me who I am, what this all means, and what I am to do with this abundance of Bonar?

    Pile of Bonar, Sidewalk

  7. Dear Confused,
    I’m pretty sure you know what to do with an abundance of boners. Pace yourself, though, so your jaw doesn’t get tired.

    PS. Thanks a lot for the $3 and the picture of Scott Baio.

  8. DEEAAAMMMMNNNN PIT PAT! You just got burned son!

    A snappy comeback isn’t going to work this time. You just totally got served, and that means there is only one way to settle things between you and Ginga’.

    Dance off!

    That’s right homies, meet me behind the Krispy Kreme at 11:00 tomorrow night. I’ll bring the cardboard, you bring the sweet, sweet moves.

  9. Uh-oh, Pit-Pat. You may be out of your league here. It’s a little known fact that Ginger Ale spent several years of intense apprenticeship under the tutelage of Michael “Boogaloo Shrimp” Chambers, aka Turbo from the successful Breakin’ film franchise. Ginger has not only mastered the Windmill and the Worm, among many other vicious moves, but can also devastate you with her unparalleled Pop ‘n’ Lock skillz as learned from her previous master, Fred “Rerun” Berry of “What’s Happening!” fame. You are going up against a veritable ninja of street dancing. I suggest you relent, sir, or it’s on!

  10. Eric, while we await this evenings dance-off that is going to take place behind our local Krispy Kreme (I’ve decided to name the dance-off “Donut Dance-Off Under The Starzz), I could really use some of your advice. I feel that you are now especially qualified since you have now been mentioned in a magazine article. I can’t remember, is ‘WIRED’ a methemphetamine aficionado rag?

    Anyways, I could really use some advice man. You failed to offer me any on my above posted problem, and because of that, my Uncy Steve tried to kill me while he had his weiner tucked back between his legs! Yeah, it turns out he’s a serial rapist and murderer. What kind of shit is that? It really caught me off guard and sort of upset me, nearly being murdered and all.

    Sorry, I know I’m rambling. I have the tendancy to do that. Thats actually why Uncy Steve tried to kill me. He said, “Will you PLEASE, shut THE FUCK UP!?” Then he tucked his penis and tried to stab me with a fire poker. We were both naked at the time, that’s how I could tell that he tucked his weiner. But that’s a story for a different day. I’ll probably just tell my Priest, not any of you. Why am I typing? Oh, yeah, I had a question! There I go rambling again!

    Ok, here I go. I usually take a 15 minute long shower every morning, and every time, I finish up with a crotch-then-anus-wash. I don’t use a washcloth or scrub brush or any other sissy shit like that. I use my bare hands, and I get in there good too. I scrub(or “hand” as I call it) for 3 to 4 minutes, rinse off, and then get out and dry. Here’s my question. Should I rewash my hands after I am done scrubbing my crotch, taint and asshole? Or does the hand rubbing back and forth against my unmentionables(crotch, taint or asshole) get my hand clean enough? I don’t want to go spreading around any more fecal matter than I already do. Know what I mean?

    Please help!

  11. Let me field that one for you, Eric. Even in my mentally compromised state, I can certainly help you with your query, Meems (I can’t do so much about your queer-y, though. OH!Who got served now, sucka?). Firstly, you must make sure that you dry youself with something which does NOT have feces on it already. Assumimg you have accomplished this, simply smell your hand after your shower. If you’re still not sure, just rub your eyes really good for about two minutes. If you never get pinkeye, then you are more than sanitary enough for your next shift at Jack-In-The-Box (r). If your hands are TOO clean, your manager may prefer that you pet a monkey or change a baby before you clock in. Then you can feel free to spread the fecus matter like the hoe you iz (oh, snap)!
    As for the “contest” (I use quotation marks to relay my disdain because you can not see me making them in the air), well, I may not have my memory, but my skill remains.
    Since my awakening, I have been “working the furnishings” like nobody’s business. I have virtually shredded six ottomans only today! I can even polish your spice rack like a can of Pledge (r). All I can say is “Bring It” (now I an holding my palm outstretched, that you may converse with it)!
    See you tonight! I will be the one with the flourescent light.

  12. By the way, Mimi, one more question about “youself”.

    How long IS your taint?

    OK. I’m going to the kitchen to make a sandwich. Anyone else want anything?

  13. Hey Pit-to-the-Pat, those were some sweet dance moves you did last night. I personally liked it when you did that kick flip right at the end of the Reba Mcentire song, “White Cuntry Bitch”. I’ll be honest, when Reba decided to do a rap album, I had my doubt’s. But damn, that white country bitch can spit mad fire yo! Oh, and you licking that old guys face right after the kick flip was unexpected and creepy, but I liked that shit a lot.

    To answer your question, I have a pretty small taint. Last time I measured it(last monday), old Suzanne was exactly 1 1/2 inches long yo. Yo, she used to be longer, but I got really drunk one night, got a hold of an antique can opener from the 1920’s, and the rest is history. And by “rest”, I mean long taint.

    Oh, and I don’t work at jack in the box yo! Jobs be for women and weak ass bitches son!

    P.S. My new girlfriend Moesha said it’s ok for me to talk like this from now on yo, She’s from a “hood”, and she says it makes her think about home yo! So expect mo’ of that in da future yo! Lata Bizzels! YO YO YO!

  14. No. “cuchi-cuchi-goo” is actualy a brand of Brazilian crotch wax. It is also how some described the waxy buildup in Bill Maher’s panties after his marathon screening of “The Passion of The Christ”.
    I always just tell babies to shut the fuck up before I give the something to REALLY cry about.

  15. It’s a date!!!

    Lateley I’ve been hangin’ out behind the Krispy-Kreme. Come peep my moves, and if I like what I see we can get it on.

    ..Take it from me!!

  16. Pit-Pat–are you still holding the flourescent light? (I am NOT holding my hand outstretched so that you may “converse” with it).

  17. Hey, Cluckin’ Kate,

    Thanks for putting your avatar up and making me look like an asshole. It was a lot funnier to think of the generic Fisher-Price(r) Little People(tm) as a target. Now it just seems like I’m a psycho. Like I’m a psycho. A psycho.

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