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View Diary: Overnight News Digest -- "Monkey Love" Edition (23 comments)

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  •  The Answer To All Relationship Problems..... (10+ / 0-)

    From the A.V. Club: Megan Mullally and Nick Offerman answer your questions on how to “engage in romantic love”

    When it came time for our annual Valentine’s Day Q&A, we could think of no one better to help our readers do just that. And as with just about everything, Offerman and Mullally did it together. Here are their answers to questions our readers submitted at avclub.com:
    I have a thing for a friend of mine who recently broke up with her fiancé (for fooling around with other girls) about a month and a half before their wedding was scheduled. How long should I wait before proposing the idea that we date? —Daniel

    We feel that getting into it with a friend is always a sticky wicket, but if you must, put your best foot forward and show her your integrity by revealing the way you feel, and then assuring her that you don’t want to pressure her in any way. If and when she’s interested, she’ll give you the high sign.

    Or, while she’s sleeping, whip your dick out and show her who’s boss. Either way.

    Since I don’t know how to force Mother Nature into the shape of boats using my handsome, raw man hands (mansome hands), what is my best shot at seducing Megan Mullally? (Nick, you don’t have to answer this one if you don’t want.) —Martin

    Nick here. I don’t mind handling this one, since at your mere arrangement of syllables, punctuation, and the winning combo-term “mansome,” Megan dropped to the kitchen floor and began masturbating furiously, asking me to repeat your phrases again and again. She says, “Martin, send me some digits, whip your dick out and show me who’s boss.” So…. Hats off, sir. Well played.

    My husband farts about 10 times in an evening, even when we have company. How do I get him to stop? —K. Thrace

    Megan here. If you think 10 farts per evening is bad, you had better give it another think. Several times a day, Nick shits his pants, scream-belches, “YOU FRACKING WHORE!” at me, snorts a veritable mountain of crushed ephedrine, urinates on our bed, makes me re-shave the swastika into his pubes, and then cries like a baby and calls me “Mommy” while he tries to suckle at my unresponsive buttocks. When we have company over? Forget it. He’s been known to fart-speak the evening’s menu and repeatedly scream, “I’m a killer whale bereft of its pup!” while daintily tongue-teasing his own nipples. THEN he whips his dick out and shows them who’s boss. So, I’m afraid I can’t offer you much solace in this. Good luck.

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