Editor's note: An oldie but goodie from Biff's advice archives:
Dear Biff:
I hate Thanksgiving. Every year, my husband and I have to attend a family Thanksgiving dinner hosted by my husband's sister and her husband. We are never invited by my sister-in-law; in fact, she does not speak with us throughout the year. But, my mother-in-law tells me that as long as she is alive (she's freakin' 88 and just won't croak) she wants her family together for Thanksgiving.
I've been honoring her wish because I love her son, and he stands to gain quite a bit of cash when she finally kicks. But, after driving several hundred miles for this family gathering, we are greeted by my brother-in-law, who calls me by the wrong name. (My husband and I have been married 10 years, and I am his only sister-in-law.) I correct him, but he doesn't seem to notice, as at dinner, he continues to address me by the wrong name.
I offer to help with cleaning up afterward, but my sister-in-law says she likes things a certain way in the kitchen, and would rather just do it herself.
We're then subjected to the performances of various grandchildren who either play piano poorly or sing like the rejects on American Idol. We leave as soon as is politely possible, after what seems like one long endlessly boring conversation.
Is there any reasonable way we can get out of these horrible dinners without upsetting my mother-in-law?
Signed,
Sulking in Syracuse
Dear Sully,
I have a better idea.
Attend the dinner, but use it as an opportunity for your own merriment. Here's some things my dates and I have done at past dinners I begrudgingly attended:
1. Shortly after you arrive, find an excuse to drag your sister-in-law from the kitchen. While the food is left unguarded, your husband should sneak in and bust a nut in a pre-arranged side dish, which you both eschew during dinner. Trust me, you and he will exchange many knowing glances and have difficulty stifling a chuckle as grandma admires how creamy the stuffing is, or little Sally licks the toasted marshmallows off the sweet potato casserole.
2. Be sure to visit the master bath before you sit down to dinner, and take note of any interesting medications in the medicine cabinet. Then, during dinner, ask your sister-in-law, 'I notice you have a large supply of Massengill. Are you still having problems with that chronic yeast infection?"
3. Provide Simon Cowle-like critiques of all the after-dinner performances, with the goal of making at least one of the children cry. After all, is there any better sound in the world than the sobs of a child whose self-esteem has been crushed?
3a. As the performances are winding down, announce that you and your husband have worked on a performance you would like to share, and excuse yourselves to prepare. Then return in full black-face and perform the most racially offensive skit you can possibly imagine. (Note: this trick only works above the Mason-Dixon line, and may not work in some suburbs of major cities, where it may actually ingratiate you with your hosts - use your common sense in these situations, and instead substitute with a screening from the most recent amateur porn video you and your husband made to sell on the internet.)
Oh, and I almost forgot the pièce de résistance: (actually, we can label this 2a): While you are visiting the master bath, insert any toothbrushes you find in your anus, and dance about the bathroom singing Peter Frampton's "I'm in You." And, assuming you have any pubic hair, use any hair combs or nose hair clippers you find to do a little landscaping. Any locks you remove should be placed in strategic locations, such as under the cap of the toothpaste tube.
***
(Editor's Note: We've been inundated with questions as to the importance of Peter Frampton as lyricist of choice whilst dancing around with toothbrushes in one's anus, and in response, Biff has reassured us that Frampton is simply his own personal favorite, and other practitioners of the art may sing from the repertoire of the songwriter of their chosing.)
***
This last one is the gift that keeps on giving. Just think how hard it will be not to guffaw Friday morning, as you pull your own toothbrush from its holder, and think about your relatives doing the same.
So, just remember, it's not the event that's boring, it's the attendees. If you find yourself thinking that a dinner party is too lame, you need to reexamine your own actions, and see if the problem lies within you.
I hope this helps.
Our New Anthology - FREE!
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
Monday, January 03, 2011
The second drop from Red Flag Publishing is now being hustled in pamphlet style. Available now for a limited time exclusively at the top secret and very exclusive comics buying club known as IndyPlanet. Click Here To Buy a Copy
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New takes on horror comics: RED FLAGS. Consider this your last warning!
$3.99 • 32 pages • Heavy stock • 100% satisfaction assured • No refunds
WARNING: Possession of this book may be a crime in some states,
municipalities or foreign countries (consult your legal counsel)
Red Flags vol. 2 brings with it three complete and shocking tales told in an anthology of traditional comic book genres- funny animal, crime and zombies. Sure to send waves of pleasure down your spine as you witness it's forbidden contents! History, propaganda and censorship, identity and reality, religion and ignorance, perversion and faith- NOTHING is off limits! Contents may be shocking and disturbing unless you are "hip to what's up on the scene."
New takes on horror comics: RED FLAGS. Consider this your last warning!
$3.99 • 32 pages • Heavy stock • 100% satisfaction assured • No refunds
WARNING: Possession of this book may be a crime in some states,
municipalities or foreign countries (consult your legal counsel)
Saturday, September 05, 2009
Is an old bird in the hand worth more than a young one in the bush?
Biff Humble
Editor's Note:
Dear Readers,
Back from his long absence, Biff has dug into the huge pile of letters seeking his advice:
Dear Biff,
I am in my mid-20s, and in my first real "career" job. It's exciting and fast-paced, and I work with very interesting people. One of them is a 40-something woman, who, while not my supervisor, is substantially higher on the corporate ladder than I.
On a recent out-of-town business trip, she had a few drinks, and made a pass at me. I laughed it off and managed to difuse the situation without offending her. Since then, she keeps giving me "meaningful" glances when we are in meetings together, and once, when leaving a room behind me, patted me on the butt. It seems obvious that she's interested in me, which is not all bad, as, for a 40-something, she's pretty hot.
The problem is, there is another woman in my department who I kind of have a crush on. She's much more appropriate for me to date: same "level" as me, same age, and we even share some interests. She is rather shy, but approaches me to talk on occasion.
So, here's the quandary: I really like this younger woman, but she seems a bit "conservative." I can see myself dating her for quite a while before being able to "make a move." The older woman, on the other hand, I'm pretty sure would be "good to go" from the start.
What do I do, go for the sure thing (which probably has no long-term future), or take it slow with the one I might be able to have a meaningful relationship with?
Stalked by a cougar
Dear Cooter
Let me think about this for a minute:
Woman #1 is "conservative." I take that to mean you think you might spend hundreds of dollars wining and dining her, and still not get anywhere.
Woman #2 has proven herself as likely to spread her legs as a drunken prom date. And, "for a 40-something, she's pretty hot."
Seems like a no-brainer to me.
Especially when you take into account Biff's Rule of Romance #1:
"Young and pretty provides the thrills, but old and lonely pays the bills."
Normally, a man must make a decision when pursuing romance. What makes an older, wealthy woman attractive is that she will generously support a lifestyle a man cannot afford on his own. What makes a hot young thing attractive is that she's ... well ... attractive. But that beauty will often cost you much more than you get out of it (see my previous columns on the beauty:bullshit ratio).
In this case, Woman #2 sounds like the best of both worlds: She's hot; she'll likely pay for dinner; and she'll put out.
But, you can always follow the advice of an experienced gambler, and hedge your bet. It's quite likely this older woman will not want your affair to be public knowledge in the workplace. So, you could ask the younger woman out as well, and tell her you don't want the fact you are seeing each other socially to be public knowledge among your coworkers. Then, you can spend your time working through the defenses of the younger woman while releasing pressure with the older woman.
I don't think either of them would mind if they found out.
I hope this helps,
Biff
p.s. If you decide to go for woman #1, send me contact info for woman #2. Cash has been a bit tight lately.
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Saturday, August 29, 2009
I'm smart and pretty, why don't men like me?
Biff Humble
Editor's Note:
Dear Readers,
Back from his long absence, Biff has dug into the huge pile of letters seeking his advice:
Dear Biff,
I'm a 30-something woman who's been quite successful in life. I have a master's degree and a great job; I travel; I'm in great health and in perfect shape. People tell me I'm fun, smart, and pretty. I'm happy with all the aspects of my life except I can't seem to find love.
I've tried to meet men in a variety of places: in class, at work, through friends, at events, and online, and sometimes I'll get a couple dates. Then the guy wants casual sex, making it obvious he has no interest in a relationship with me. I'm left confused and am becoming bitter, because I really want a relationship.
It would seem that being an attractive, accomplished person would make a person good relationship material, but apparently that's not enough. I have met a lot of women who are not as nice, less funny, and less interesting who manage to find boyfriends. What can I do differently that will make guys want to be in a relationship with me?
Perkie in Pokipsee
Dear Pokie
You are correct, being an attractive, accomplished person would make a person good relationship material, but that's just not enough.
You also have to NOT be a self-centered, egotistical bitch who thinks of others as "not as nice, less funny, and less interesting" than herself.
We at Red Flag Publishing have developed a theory to explain this to the clueless women who need to buy books such as "He's Just Not that Into You." We call it the Beauty:Bullshit ratio. It works this way: every man is willing to put up with a certain level of bullshit in order to obtain a steady source of sex.
There is a direct correlation between the beauty of the piece he is tapping and the level of bullshit a man is willing to put up with. A smokin' hot supermodel can be pretty much batshit crazy and still find someone with which to be in a relationship. But, even then, sometimes it gets too much and, although men all over the world shake their heads in disbelief, some guy actually breaks up with a supermodel.
You can't help but look at that situation, and wonder what kind of crazy is wrapped up in that slinky black dress.
So, our guess is that either you are not nearly as attractive as you believe, or it's obvious to men that there is a whole lotta crazy emanating from you.
We are guessing it's the latter, since the men you date are willing to have casual sex with you, but not subject themselves to a relationship with you. After all, it can be kinda fun tapping the crazy ones. As long as you don't do something stupid, like fall asleep before she does.
I hope this helps,
Biff
p.s. If you'd like to knock off a quick one, email me.
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Thursday, November 15, 2007
I hate my sister-in-law's Thanksgiving dinner!
Dear Biff:
I hate Thanksgiving. Every year, my husband and I have to attend a family Thanksgiving dinner hosted by my husband's sister and her husband. We are never invited by my sister-in-law; in fact, she does not speak with us throughout the year. But, my mother-in-law tells me that as long as she is alive (she's freakin' 88 and just won't croak) she wants her family together for Thanksgiving.
I've been honoring her wish because I love her son, and he stands to gain quite a bit of cash when she finally kicks. But, after driving several hundred miles for this family gathering, we are greeted by my brother-in-law, who calls me by the wrong name. (My husband and I have been married 10 years, and I am his only sister-in-law.) I correct him, but he doesn't seem to notice, as at dinner, he continues to address me by the wrong name.
I offer to help with cleaning up afterward, but my sister-in-law says she likes things a certain way in the kitchen, and would rather just do it herself.
We're then subjected to the performances of various grandchildren who either play piano poorly or sing like the rejects on American Idol. We leave as soon as is politely possible, after what seems like one long endlessly boring conversation.
Is there any reasonable way we can get out of these horrible dinners without upsetting my mother-in-law?
Signed,
Sulking in Syracuse
Dear Sully,
I have a better idea.
Attend the dinner, but use it as an opportunity for your own merriment. Here's some things my dates and I have done at past dinners I begrudgingly attended:
1. Shortly after you arrive, find an excuse to drag your sister-in-law from the kitchen. While the food is left unguarded, your husband should sneak in and bust a nut in a pre-arranged side dish, which you both eschew during dinner. Trust me, you and he will exchange many knowing glances and have difficulty stifling a chuckle as grandma admires how creamy the stuffing is, or little Sally licks the toasted marshmallows off the sweet potato casserole.
2. Be sure to visit the master bath before you sit down to dinner, and take note of any interesting medications in the medicine cabinet. Then, during dinner, ask your sister-in-law, 'I notice you have a large supply of Massengill. Are you still having problems with that chronic yeast infection?"
3. Provide Simon Cowle-like critiques of all the after-dinner performances, with the goal of making at least one of the children cry. After all, is there any better sound in the world than the sobs of a child whose self-esteem has been crushed?
3a. As the performances are winding down, announce that you and your husband have worked on a performance you would like to share, and excuse yourselves to prepare. Then return in full black-face and perform the most racially offensive skit you can possibly imagine. (Note: this trick only works above the Mason-Dixon line, and may not work in some suburbs of major cities, where it may actually ingratiate you with your hosts - use your common sense in these situations, and instead substitute with a screening from the most recent amateur porn video you and your husband made to sell on the internet.)
Oh, and I almost forgot the pièce de résistance: (actually, we can label this 2a): While you are visiting the master bath, insert any toothbrushes you find in your anus, and dance about the bathroom singing Peter Frampton's "I'm in You." And, assuming you have any pubic hair, use any hair combs or nose hair clippers you find to do a little landscaping. Any locks you remove should be placed in strategic locations, such as under the cap of the toothpaste tube.
***
(Editor's Note: We've been inundated with questions as to the importance of Peter Frampton as lyricist of choice whilst dancing around with toothbrushes in one's anus, and in response, Biff has reassured us that Frampton is simply his own personal favorite, and other practitioners of the art may sing from the repertoire of the songwriter of their chosing.)
***
This last one is the gift that keeps on giving. Just think how hard it will be not to guffaw Friday morning, as you pull your own toothbrush from its holder, and think about your relatives doing the same.
So, just remember, it's not the event that's boring, it's the attendees. If you find yourself thinking that a dinner party is too lame, you need to reexamine your own actions, and see if the problem lies within you.
I hope this helps.
Our New Anthology - FREE!
BUY OUR BOOKS!
I hate Thanksgiving. Every year, my husband and I have to attend a family Thanksgiving dinner hosted by my husband's sister and her husband. We are never invited by my sister-in-law; in fact, she does not speak with us throughout the year. But, my mother-in-law tells me that as long as she is alive (she's freakin' 88 and just won't croak) she wants her family together for Thanksgiving.
I've been honoring her wish because I love her son, and he stands to gain quite a bit of cash when she finally kicks. But, after driving several hundred miles for this family gathering, we are greeted by my brother-in-law, who calls me by the wrong name. (My husband and I have been married 10 years, and I am his only sister-in-law.) I correct him, but he doesn't seem to notice, as at dinner, he continues to address me by the wrong name.
I offer to help with cleaning up afterward, but my sister-in-law says she likes things a certain way in the kitchen, and would rather just do it herself.
We're then subjected to the performances of various grandchildren who either play piano poorly or sing like the rejects on American Idol. We leave as soon as is politely possible, after what seems like one long endlessly boring conversation.
Is there any reasonable way we can get out of these horrible dinners without upsetting my mother-in-law?
Signed,
Sulking in Syracuse
Dear Sully,
I have a better idea.
Attend the dinner, but use it as an opportunity for your own merriment. Here's some things my dates and I have done at past dinners I begrudgingly attended:
1. Shortly after you arrive, find an excuse to drag your sister-in-law from the kitchen. While the food is left unguarded, your husband should sneak in and bust a nut in a pre-arranged side dish, which you both eschew during dinner. Trust me, you and he will exchange many knowing glances and have difficulty stifling a chuckle as grandma admires how creamy the stuffing is, or little Sally licks the toasted marshmallows off the sweet potato casserole.
2. Be sure to visit the master bath before you sit down to dinner, and take note of any interesting medications in the medicine cabinet. Then, during dinner, ask your sister-in-law, 'I notice you have a large supply of Massengill. Are you still having problems with that chronic yeast infection?"
3. Provide Simon Cowle-like critiques of all the after-dinner performances, with the goal of making at least one of the children cry. After all, is there any better sound in the world than the sobs of a child whose self-esteem has been crushed?
3a. As the performances are winding down, announce that you and your husband have worked on a performance you would like to share, and excuse yourselves to prepare. Then return in full black-face and perform the most racially offensive skit you can possibly imagine. (Note: this trick only works above the Mason-Dixon line, and may not work in some suburbs of major cities, where it may actually ingratiate you with your hosts - use your common sense in these situations, and instead substitute with a screening from the most recent amateur porn video you and your husband made to sell on the internet.)
Oh, and I almost forgot the pièce de résistance: (actually, we can label this 2a): While you are visiting the master bath, insert any toothbrushes you find in your anus, and dance about the bathroom singing Peter Frampton's "I'm in You." And, assuming you have any pubic hair, use any hair combs or nose hair clippers you find to do a little landscaping. Any locks you remove should be placed in strategic locations, such as under the cap of the toothpaste tube.
***
(Editor's Note: We've been inundated with questions as to the importance of Peter Frampton as lyricist of choice whilst dancing around with toothbrushes in one's anus, and in response, Biff has reassured us that Frampton is simply his own personal favorite, and other practitioners of the art may sing from the repertoire of the songwriter of their chosing.)
***
This last one is the gift that keeps on giving. Just think how hard it will be not to guffaw Friday morning, as you pull your own toothbrush from its holder, and think about your relatives doing the same.
So, just remember, it's not the event that's boring, it's the attendees. If you find yourself thinking that a dinner party is too lame, you need to reexamine your own actions, and see if the problem lies within you.
I hope this helps.
Our New Anthology - FREE!
BUY OUR BOOKS!
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Biff is Back!!!
Editor's Note:
Dear Readers,
I received the following note and manuscript in a crumpled DHL envelope this week:
Dear R.F. Peons:
I have tried to remain incognito and let you jokers run things while I was doing research for my new college psychology textbook, The Three Feminine Personality Types. But I can no longer stand to watch you pussy-up my column! Do NOT, I repeat, DO NOT under any circumstances post any more of your namby-pamby limp-writsted liberal advice on MY BLOG! Enclosed is an entry for What Would Biff Say?
Also attached is a commentary which is to be posted immediately on Alfalfa Was Right. (Click here to read Biff's rant on Private Equity buyouts)
Oh, by the way, my shit better be where I left it when I return,and keep your damn hands of Darla!
Biff
Dear Biff:
I want to be an actress more than anything in the whole, wide world. The problem is, my parents are dead-set against it. They think I'm too "smart" to be an actress, and that acting is too risky a career path.
But I love theatre, and am determined to do this. I don't want to do it behind my parents' backs, but if they insist, I'm just going to pack my stuff and head to Hollywood.
What can I say to convince them?
signed
Desiring a lead role
Dear Drama Queen
First off, I think your parents are wrong that you are too "smart" to be an actress. Just the fact that you want to be an actress proves you aren't too smart.
Second, Hollywood is already full of actresses. Only there, they call them "waitresses."
Your parents are correct that acting is a risky career path. You will face incredible competition for parts, and will have to prove that you are better than all the rest.
How do you do this?
Well, you must learn to enunciate very well. Even when you have your mouth full. Go visit your dentist, ask him to put as many dental instruments into your mouth as will fit, and then keep repeating, "I want to be an actress." Don't be surprised if it comes out nearly unintelligible and sounding like "I oont ooohh eeee a acwess." But, don't worrry, most casting agents are used to listening to actresses when they have their mouths full.
Oh, and practice it on your knees, as well.
I hope this helps.
-Biff Humble
May 21, 2007
from a bar in
Karst, Slovenia
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Monday, April 16, 2007
Lizzie Borden Meets Lorena Bobbit
Dear Readers,
While we search for Biff, our editorial director has offered to step into Biff's shoes, and promises to answer your questions with as much humor and insight as our fearless publisher; however, this one has required much contemplation before responding:
Dear James
I am a single woman, aged 24, and I have a strong desire to pull up along-side a man, any man, walking and take him somewhere and have hot kinky sex with him and then dismember him and leave him to bleed to death. I want to cut off his man parts and watch him scream. Is there anything wrong with that?
Carrie
Dear Lorena,
Wow.
Ummmmm ... I'm really not sure what to say, other than, "don't."
Unless, of course, you are speaking figuratively, in which case you should always wait until you marry him before you cut off a man's balls.
How about this one, readers? Any suggestions? Please leave comments, because I'm at a loss here.
I hope this helps,
James
We are at day 106 of Biff Watch, and we are still asking our loyal readers to keep an eye out for Biff. He should be easy to spot: he's over six feet tall, late 40s, prematurely grey hair usually greased back, and prone to smoke a pipe. His personal hygiene tends to slip when he's off on one of his trips, so he may be sporting several days' beard growth.
If you see him, please snap a photo or get some video, and send it to jehitch@redflagpublishing.com, along with information as to where and when it was shot, so we can track him down.
Thanks,
James Hitchcock
Editorial Director
Red Flag Publishing
Oh, and PLEASE ... CHECK OUT OUR CHEAP DOWNLOADS!
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