Dear Addled is a shameless rip-off of the Dear Abby column that still runs in some newspapers. Abby fields letters from her readers and dispenses advice on a range of subjects.
While I am not sure if the New York Times runs Dear Abby’s advice column, they would like to advise you that “Voting Has Been Made Difficult, Elect Trump And You Won’t Have To Bother With It Ever Again.”
Dear Addled,
Hi, this is Mark from Florida,
I got kind of a dilemma. I was lucky enough to order a pair of those Trump Gold Never Surrender High-Top Sneakers which is really nifty, but the problem is I have a local two-on-one basketball tournament in April. The thing is they’re saying the shoes won’t ship until July or August. Any thoughts on what I should do?
Dear Mark,
Whoa, for a minute you had me going there.
I’m sure this was a typo, but you said it was a two-on-one tournament?
I think you meant a two-on-two tournament, unless you’re participating in the Bridget Ziegler Open Invitational two-on-one, you devilish baller. If that is actually what you meant, you need to contact her husband, Christian-In-Name-Only. Video tape of your court action, if you’d like to call it that, is an extra fee. There are also some court fees involved. And some attorney fees, too. Oh, hell with it, bring bond money.
And, if I’m wrong, and this is the kind of play you’re into, check out the Madison Cawthorn Five On Five Or Whoever Shows Up Congressional Free-for-All Tournament, which is sponsored by the Freedom Caucus, where nothing says freedom more than giving the uterus indenture servitude and an early curfew.
By the way, don’t try contacting Madison. He’s retired to obscurity. A guy name Matt has taken over, but rumor is he’s going to change the format to a gender-specific youth league. FanDuel shut down betting on which gender, saying the odds got too lopsided — 3 gazillionandrising to 1 — and that depending on the outcome it could potentially bankrupt them. Rumor has it they decided to throw in the towel when both the Dali Lama and the Pope ponied up bets and announced, “It’s a Girl!”
However, if that tournament is still going on in its original format, you do have to be a GOP Party Hardy member to be included in the pairings, or threesomes, or the Jumbo Jamboree Take It To The Mat Everyone And Last One Standing Is A Prig. It is double elimination, which for a lot of us older guys is hard, since it seems we’re pretty much eliminated after just one round and ready for some pizza and a defibrillator.
Now if it’s actual basketball you’re talking about, well, I think you’re out of luck. It does appear that those shoes will not be shipped until mid-to-late summer. They’re coming from Portugal via a pipe dream and the usual issues with Trump Organization payment issues. “The check is in the mail and DeJoy runs the Post Office.”
You know, why don’t you trade those in for a nice Trump NFT? There’s a really cool one showing him wearing those shoes. He’s hauling ass up court to file another appellate plea to have all cases against him delayed until crack cocaine with Codeine #3 is approved for over-the-counter use. As for those shoes, I’d say for Trump you’re just another Mark.
Addled
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Hi Addled,
My name is Dean Phillips. I am a U.S. House Representative from Minnesota, and I am currently running as a candidate in the Democratic Presidential primary against Joe Biden. My problem is kind of twofold. People aren’t taking my campaign seriously, they think it’s a joke, and I can’t generate any name recognition. What would you propose I do?
Dear Dean,
First, I’d like to apologize for not answering your letter earlier. The reasons for the delay are a bit complicated, but in large part it was because I was laughing so hard I ended up needing a front end alignment for my rib cage. Plus, I had to have my lungs relined. I went with leather this time. The rest had to do with my doctor’s staff trying to figure out how to code that stuff for the insurance company. It turned out triple sixes did the trick. The devil is in the details, I guess.
Second, you’re who?
(Columnist’s Note. I had my assistant sober up and check this guy out. At the time we went to press we were aware of the following: His staff had basically turned off the lights for the campaign, but because no one knew exactly who Dean Phillips was, no one told him it was over. So, yep, apparently he’s still running. But, like we said, he’s in the dark about all this.
So, if any of our readers see Dean please inform him of what happened. I mean, this is getting embarrassing. His wife asked him to come to bed nights ago. Oh, she said it’s ok for him to bring his delusions home, except for that one about Mr Clean Magic Erasers, everyone who attended the last Super Bowl and a tanker of pork gravy. Don’t ask. We did and we can never unsee it, and we're not inclined to subject others to the same visual. You can thanks us, but trust me, you can’t thank us enough.)
Addled
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Dear Addled,
My namm is Melania. My husbond vants to be prezedent uf da Uunited Statez agan, but I um not shore I vants to live in da Vight Haus agan. I vant soolution.
Dear Melania,
Hey, nice to hear from you. It’s not often we get someone of your, well, stature, around here. Can I offer you something? Like an exit visa? Shoes that don’t have upside down Eiffel Towers for heels? Manners?
Or, maybe something that’s a bit more of an eye opener, because those slits you have for eyelids are mailbox size and are perfect for voters to slide in their early ballots. And I just know there’s enough empty room behind those eyes to hold a full-size post office with parking. Could you see if Donald’s check for payment on the shoes he ordered wholesteal is in there?
By the way, I just love your accent. It’s soooo sultry. I mean it is just absolutely off the chain migration.
Hey, one piece of advice, if Donald ever goes back into that bunker, don’t go with him. That stuff never ends well for the missus. Trust me. It’s like the aftermath of a certain wedding that had gone so south it made the Lost Cause look kinda like a kooky misunderstanding in comparison. And, no, those were not champagne corks you heard going off.
I mean, next thing you know you’ve got Russians climbing through the windows, drinking copious amounts of vodka out of garden pots, dancing on the furniture and partying like it’s 1945. Instead, just have them come through the front door, like it says on the invitations your husband keeps sending out. And if you have Putin come for a sleep over make sure to use your best documents for placemats. He’s a sucker for those kinds of touches.
One other thing, you’re good at makeup, right? Could you do something about that foundation Donald uses. That color stucco went out in the ‘60s, along with passé hues such as avocado green, harvest gold and pinko. Although GOP Goldwater seems to never go out of fashion in some circles.
And I’m curious. When he puts it on in the morning, do the plasterers apply it using a pool noddle roller or a wind tunnel set to thermonuclear shock wave? If it’s the latter, I’d suggest a downgrade to blowhard and just have Donald do it himself. I’d also say you’ll save money by not having the plasterers do it, but I’m sure they haven’t been paid since money was printed on paper that could hold ink.
And that hair. Same thing there. It is so 1970s asbestos waiting to be removed after the lawsuits have been settled and the checks have been sent out to the plaintiffs’ morticians. I know he does a comb over with a bouffant pouf, but maybe he should do a flyover instead.
You know, have his private jet zoom in low every morning and use the hot jet exhaust to melt the ol’ cotton candy on to the noggin until it hardens like a formica-topped table at a Waffle House, the place where if the chewing gum isn’t in the waitress’s mouth then it’s stuck under the table. "I’ll be back for my gum in a minute. You want more coffee, honey?”
I think I’m on to something there with the jet stream makeover. Between the plastered face and the plasticized scalp you got a McDonald’s interior and a clown exterior. Yep, you got it, Mellie, the Hamburglar.
As for living in the White House again, yeah, maybe not. I mean, after you took the Rose Garden and turned it in to a Soviet boulevard, I’m not sure if the country’s ready for stuff like that again. Or the Christmas decorations that look like the outdoor winter scenes at the end of that movie The Shining, but so festively drenched in red. And what shade of red was that, Hot Summer, Saturday Night, Emergency Room Red or We Spent Our Entire Budget On Blood For Our B-Grade Horror Movie Red?
Oh, no, no, no, crap, now I get it! It’s Ketchup Red!!! Donald must have had one hell of a blow up, huh? What set him off? It couldn’t have been another indictment, he wasn’t getting those until later as I recall. And for him, those damn things are like signed lithographs, they’re done in a numbered series. What’s the value on them now, twenty to thirty years? I know people who would give him even more for those.
Finally, and God forbid, but if you do get to live there again could you do us all a favor? Return all the things you stuffed into your Louis Vuitton panel van when you left the first time.
Kisses.
Addled
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And remember everyone, if you acted on advice from Addled, you’re probably not still in the saddle.