Therapy Thursday

Dear Birdman: First of all: fuck off. Second of all, what are you supposed to do with a brother in law that is completely useless? No matter how many job opportunities I have presented to the man, he will just make another excuse not to go to work. I am completely frustrated I just want to go over to his house and beat the ever living shit out of him. The man has seven kids and would prefer to live off of welfare. Good luck on answering this one; I’m going to get my brass knuckles.


Dear Sick,

Listen pal, I’m day five into a pretty shitty cold, so I am going to cut to the chase.  Your BIL is a lazy, shiftless deadbeat that you are unable to kill or change.  My advice involves a hooker, a shady hotel, your BIL and a photographer.  May I offer my services?

Unfortunately, your sister is likely the type that would rather put up with the lazy SOB than be left alone to fend for 7 young ‘uns. (See Mondays Post)  In the unlikely event that he keels over with a heart attack from the congealed fat in his arteries, and has a meaty insurance policy, than your sister is made in the shade.  Otherwise, I think you just have to carry on doing what you can to help these kids and their poor mom.  Sorry I can’t be more helpful, but the last time I checked, homicide was still largely pooh-poohed on this continent.

Sucks to be you,

Mrs. B.

Dear Sick:

Fuck that shit. There are a great many excavators next to a great many holes, so there’s no need to let this dirty shitheel keep tainting those kids. If the heads of their family keep that shit up for too long, those kids will end up following in their parents footsteps. Then there are nine people soaking up our tax dollars, and way more if the kids start breeding. This is a vicious cycle, and the only way I can see is to bury the prick… In hugs, fucking relax, lawyers. Like I’m going to recommend murder over the internet. This ain’t my first go-round

He's probably like this guy, but dirtier and with a homemade cane for faking injuries

What I want to know now is what kind of idiot is your sister, and why the hell didn’t you sterilize his deadbeat ass with a rusty scalpel? I assume that you and your sister had the same upbringing, and you are obviously into working for your money, like almost all of the rest of us, so where did your sister go wrong? This guy must be hung like a racehorse, or just knows how to charm the pants off of the ladies. Either way, he should maybe be cleaned up and put out to stud with a hefty fee. At least that way he isn’t a total drain on society, and there is a chance that someone else will kill him for you. Kill him with kindness that is. I would never wish someone dead on the internet, that’s just silly.


P.S. Why did you tell me to fuck off, and where did you get the brass knuckles? I’d love a pair. You know, just to hang on the wall.

Dear Birdman: I have been having this really bad, unclean smell lately. I was going to wash it, but my pirate grandfather always said that people should only bathe once a month. He said it’s how you keep the scurvy away, and only a poxy heathen whore would take to washing the Lord’s filth off of herself. I like to be clean, but I sure don’t want the vengeance of the Lord coming down on me.

Seriously, I don’t know what’s worse, losing my teeth and hair, or having to call another ambulance to pick up my rummy boyfriend when he passed out from the smell. Please help me, We’re running low on street drunks in our town, and Mama needs to get her sugar from somewhere.

Miss Piss

Dear Miss:

What you need to do is start flushing with a mild mixture of Borax and water. If it’s really bad, a couple of Mentos and some Diet Coke should break things loose and get you working up to speed. After that, I would use any generic brand of peroxide and mix it with a bit of water. Maybe go 50/50 on the dilution. After this regimen, find another rummy, and see how he fares. Repeat if necessary.

Maybe try shaking some Comet into one of these

Your grandfather is right about one thing; you are probably going to hell, and it is going to be awesome. There is a carnival every day.

Mrs. Birdman is in bed now, but I’m sure she would have given the same advice.

Does anybody really know what time it is, does anybody really care,


10 thoughts on “Therapy Thursday

  1. Oh hell, I have tears streaming – STREAMING – down my face from laughing so hard. Dear Abby ain’t got shit on you! Now I know who to turn to when I have questions in my life. Thanks, Birdman (and Mrs. Birdman, too).

    • Dear Abby is a sham. She never gets down to the root of the problem. We need a syndicated column in the national papers.

      • I agree on all counts! Oh man, could you imagine if Therapy Thursday was picked up by some big time news source?

  2. What happenes if a guy’s dick rots off from tapping that nasty whore? Is there anything that the guys can do to prevent that from happening?

  3. Dear Sick, I loved the tone of your post. Someone who starts their sentence with “fuck off” is clearly speaking my language. Now if you follow the above underlying message and murder that prick, just know that contrary to popular belief, pigs wont necessarily eat all remains. Good luck.

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