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Not really. I think they all hated me but didn't want to have the hastle of firing a contract worker since I got all my sections in ahead of time.

I think it was the cannibalism thing from Brugnahk. They never let me know about any of the "hate" mail I recieved or complaints so I never changed what I was writing. Except when one editor asked for scorpios horoscope to not be centered around sex anymore, I don't know why I think she was just uptight.

Another not well recieved special holiday issue. Reading week, or as we call it up here, suicide prevention week. More people kill themselves in that week of February than any other week through out the year so we all just take it off.

Reading week is a lie. I had to put that out there to start. It is a holiday that has completely lost they purpose it was set out for. It was a celebration of literacy instigated by Xandyr Whatley, Grand Wizard of Cthulhu to encourage other cultists to read. However, the holiday has lost the path it was set. Less than 1% of Canadians celebrate reading week with the traditional six days of reading books of infernal knowledge and then performing a bloody sacrificial rite to one of the great old ones. What do I say to this? We need to put the heart and soul back into reading week. I am not innocent of not practicing the holiday as it was intend. But change starts with you. Lets analyzes some ways we can still honor the roots of the holiday while having some freedom, after all who wants to spend six days in a dungeon reading about how to call upon Fungus from Yuggoth?
   Partying: Drinking and partying are wonderful. I love them, I love to read pornography while eating pop-corn, There is nothing that sates my deep lust for all things decadent save this and partying. Partying is an activity that since it often results in passing out from exhaustion, drunkenness, or burning out is very good for having really strange dreams. And Xandyr Whatley; the founder of the holiday, loved nothing more than a strange dream that perchance he had a chance to view things most strange or nefarious. So by all means drink and party to your hearts content, just try and write down any really weird dreams. Like the one I had last night, I had to choose a color because I couldn't juggle cats if I was orange or gray. Only green people can juggle cats.
   Visiting Family: Visiting family is an unacceptable use of family/reading week. Unless you have a group sacrifice of a goat on your kitchen table you have wasted a week of your life. Seriously, family is really overrated. Or maybe mine is? They do throw rocks at me and call me a black sheep. I never could really figure out why.
   Working: To make a living some of us have to toil day in and day out for money. That is so we can pay for rent, food, gas, utilities, mind-altering psychoactive drugs and the wonderful starburst. Which are delicious and notorious for being addictive. Did you know you get Vitamin C from eating starburst? The naked guy I met one night at a bus stop near El Peso told me so. Then again I was doing a lot of peyote that night. Working is an acceptable use for reading week, provided you work for a faceless uncaring corporation. Which is pretty much everyone. In which case it mirrors our idiot servitude to the great old ones.
   Being slothful: as far as sins go, sloth is the easiest. You don't even have to get out of bed to work on it. This sin is an acceptable way to spend any amount of time. Since sins are fun things! Like types of food! You haven't lived until you have tried them all. However if your slothfulness is from sickness then I wag my finger at you. You should have been trying to beat your illness by drinking copious amounts of orange juice and vodka. A good screwdriver will fix anything, that is what Wade from hardware used to tell me.
   Nothing in particular: If you basically just puttered around for the entirety to reading week. You I have to commend for your bravery. Not accomplishing anything for the entire week of reading week is a feat indeed. A great feat that one could interpret as an eerie look at our own mortality. But I believe Victor De Sadistic has already gone over that enough times that even 'I' am sick of hearing about it. How many times can you say 'the absolute soul numbing experience of it all' in one sentence anyway? Shall we try? I believe the absolute soul numbing experience of it all is absolute and complete in its wholly the absolute soul numbing experience of it all which is eternal and maddening for the absolute soul numbing experience of it all is incredible as it is tantamount to oblivion. Three times, better luck next time I suppose. Regardless; congratulations meat-bag! You are a success at doing nothing. Just think, if Jerry Seinfeld filmed your week he would have another twenty millions dollars.
   Well that is a rough idea of whether you spent your week properly. I don't think anyone other than some of the old boys back home in the old country actually got to do the old fashioned sacrifice this year. Goat prices are ridiculous over there. Anyways, hopefully you did something along one of the lines of what I had described. Congratulations on honoring the horrors that lie on the edge of reality and madness and may the memories of such a wonderful time tide you over when the stars change.

This was published in the new years issue. It wasn't recieved well.

The unknown is the most terrifying of all. And as such I have made some regrettable bargains, however I am now gifted with visions of the future to avoid the terrifying unknown future. The void that is a black abyss of time is pierced and I will tell you in this article what to expect in the year to come. You can do your best to help change the future, but you must confront it in the end. Which has often led me to believe that perhaps these visions I have are not actually visions at all, but sleep deprived hallucinations. Perhaps brought on by serotonin unbalances mixed with the vast amounts of other chemicals that I ingest on a daily basis. Regardless, Here they are. Take them or leave them, here they are. My visions of the next year for you.
   January: The month of new will be very uneventful. Like really uneventful, so boring that you could spend it playing the entire Final Fantasy and you would not miss anything. Except for that whole political corruption scam, that one is boring and you really don't miss much by not watching the news. Ralph Klein will be declared sovereign of the land of milk and honey.
   February: The month of love will be filled with strife. There will be a flood, two earthquakes, a forest fire, three riots and a plague of locusts. Nothing apocalyptic. Though a certain expert tells me Venus will release some radiation causing the entire population of West Lethbridge to engage in an Orgy on the 17th. Also on a side note, reading week, for the first time in human history will be used for reading. In a random act of honoring obscure pop culture 'All your base are belong to us' will be added to the United states pledge of allegiance.
   March: The month of war will be a large bumbling exercise in futility. The greed of a certain country south of France will decide to begin a campaign against the superpowers. Rallying the support of three ancient secret societies the world may seem to teeter on the brink of destruct for a few weeks. We will be distracted, of course by celebrity marriages. Britney will divorce Kevin and take the hand of British Lord.
   April: The month of folly will be filled with wisdom. A new invention will change the world. For the worse unfortunately, who thought flesh powered cars would be a bad idea. Live and learn, die and don't. Also Walpurgis will be a fun day this week, so look forward to the 30th as something terrible will awaken. Mountain Crest will be discovered to have healing properties and replace holy water as a sacrament.
   May: The month of life will be happy! There will be bunny rabbits having baby bunny rabbits and they will hop around wiggling their oogy cutie noses woses. And then bouncy wouncy around to their widdle holes. Then big scawie Cthulhu will rise from the deep depths of the sunken house of R'lyeh after the stars change and will reign wonderfully devouring all in its path. Godzilla will be voted out of office in Switzerland.
   June: The month of prophecy will be unpredictable. Well a great king of terror will come from the sky. Three kings will wage war over a betrayal of a great friend. A red dragon will attack a great bear and there will be a lost cat found by its owner. Disney will release a movie that will do very well in theatres. Total war will be declared by the Island of Malta against dolphins.
   July: The month of freedom will be a prison. Happiness will reign and everyone will be free. Unaware of that they had been always free there will be an age of despair, then Seinfeld will come back on the air. James Brown will be declared an enemy of the state after releasing an Eski album.
   August: The month of turning will have great wealth. Doomsday devices will hit the market from a certain software giant and everyone will be able to be able to bid for world domination. Holding the world ransom for billions of gold bars. Also Tupac will release a new album. Charles Manson will be released on parole only to be arrested five minutes later for devouring his lawyer.
   September: The month of fun will be unfunny. A celebrity will give birth to the faux-anti-Christ. It isn't really the anti-Christ, just has horns, breathes fire and has the mark of the beast. It will be okay though. A large amount of new products will be available to the consumer including an injurer derringer. Also Paris Hilton will be eaten by a starving alligator, which will starve regardless.
   October: The dark month will be another step into the abyss of madness. One night the dead will walk the streets and attack all who live, ushering in a new age. Vincent Price will exhumed from his graved and discovered to be a vampire.
   November: The month of cold will be warm. A thermal inversion will make the polar icecaps melt raising the earth's temperature by ten degrees. It won't be so bad except for the fact we will lose most of the coast lines and there for beach houses. England will become a tower sticking out of the sea and Greenland turns out to be just a big snowed in air strip.
   December: The great month of change will be swell. John Lennon will rise from the dead and take the throne of New Zealand. We will make alien contact, forty seconds later humanity will declare war on said aliens reducing them to carbon dust with our mighty nuclear weapons. Cheese will be outlawed by the New World Order. The seventh Harry Potter book (which has been already written) will be released. In finale there will be a duel to the death between Michael Jackson and the ghost of Oscar Wilde.
   The year will be obviously very strange. I left out a lot of the really important things like the winning lottery numbers, mostly because they always appeared garbled by the screaming monster that looks like a writhing mass of eyes. It is alright though, don't worry, everything will be alright.

More filler for the university paper and its wackyness. This one was published in my first issue. And it went downward spirallying from there...


101 Things to do in Lethbridge when you are Dead.
1.Find some place to stay
2.Sleep in the SU.
3.Midnight Golfing.
4.Wear Sunglasses at night.
5.Get drunk and go caroling.
6.Play CDs at full volume.
7.Go to the cheesecake café for some rye.
8.Dress in black.
9.Experiment with psychedelic pharmaceuticals.
10.Stay up all night.
11.Liberty X.
12.Roll around Lethbridge all day.
13.Break out the bourbon!
14.Go to the Duke.
15.Forget to wear your pants.
16.Hide from daylight.
17.Watch TV.
18.Hold Keggers.
19.Medieval Drinking Tournament.
20.Look for el Chupacabra.
21.Find Nemo.
22.Watch the wind change.
23.Shooters!
24.Read 'gone with the wind'
25.Submit material to the meliorist or they will hurt me again.
26.Steal Lawn Gnomes.
27.Learn to fly.
28.Revolution.
29.Set up lawn chairs watch the world die.
30.Go into the east.
31.PDA!
32.Kill flies.
33.Find other dead people to hang out with.
34.Wear a bandanna.
35.Dance dance revolution!
36.Search for the hidden catacomb of Sud'ten Oninu!
37.Drink coffee.
38.Watch 'Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas' while drunk.
39.Throw a toga party.
40.Meet me at 'Lister Hall' tomorrow.
41.Break into musical style song and dance.
42.Open your eyes, look up to the skies and see.
43.Flip the switch!
44.Drive down to the liquor store for some Everclear.
45.Buy a pound of peanuts.
46.Drink heavily.
47.Bonfire.
48.Smuggle fruit bats into the farmers market.
49.Stare out the window into the calm silent night.
50.Step into the spotlight travel with the circus.
51.Watch Movies with friends.
52.Play records in reverse listening for Satanic messages.
53.Avoid cacti.
54.Enjoy the nightlife.
55.Listen to Hotel California.
56.Go to the gym.
57.Bar Hopping!
58.Learn to assemble a pistol blindfolded.
59.Play 'Egyptian rat screw.'
60.Go swimming.
61.Hang around downtown.
62.Watch the Local News.
63.Go for a cemetery for a free tour.
64.Look for the hotel where they don't change the sheets. (3)
65.Go on MSN to hear about the outside world.
66.Try and decode the hidden messages that are in the Meliorist.
67.Wake the dead.
68.Order Take-out
69.Rally against the wind.
70.Sell ducks to the local.
71.Help out your neighbors.
72.Interesting conversations with strangers at the coffee shop.
73.Play 'spin the bottle'
74.Clap loudly at random occasions.
75.Tearful good-byes in the moonlight.
76.Hottie spotting!
77.Universal solvent fights.
78.Lose yourself in the moment.
79.Hold your arms in the air.
80.Ultra-fast-fast-food runs.
81.Watch the sunrise.
82.Watch the sunset.
83.Avoid sleeping because of the dreams.
84.Sleepwalk.
85.Sleeptalk.
86.Sleepgetintobigtroubleandblameyoursubconcious.
87.Have frequent Freudian slips.
88.BBQ!
89.Don't burn the locals.
90.Slack off.
91.Get Crunk. (Crazy Drunk)
92.Read the Meliorist.
93.Play nicely with others.
94.Re-read line 66.
95.Listen to music at full blast.
96.Go to tourist information.
97.Make nachos, everyone loves nachos.
98.Confess your love for someone.
99.Break down into tears every Saturday night.
100.Wonder what you are doing here.
101.Dream up things to do in Lethbridge when you are dead.

This article was written as a smear at the book store at the local university and how it enjoyed screwing students. I wrote in the style of HP Lovecraft because I love him and his Yogsothoth-ery.



About five seconds too late into writing this article I realized two things. One is that I forgot my book on article writing in the in the New England countryside. The second thing was that I had never left New England and had no idea why such a weird idea had entered my head. Either way I continued to delve into the dark cold cyclopean tomb that was going to be in fact, the most sinister article ever written! Yes, brave reader I dare you to continue for the between these lines and hidden beneath this shallow surface of sanity which binds these words together into coherence and form there is something so mind rending and horrible that it could tear our fragile waking lie asunder.
   I speak of the unmentionable entities covered by my references within the prime book of research, The Necronomican of the Abdul Alhazrad. Oh yes, these horrible creatures leave their marks upon our waking world yet we do not perceive it. The Things that we let our minds gloss over and render harmless to our minds, they do exist! I have seen them. I will recount the day in which my world shattered and I became the gibbering mad man I am now.
   So many years ago but I remember it well. The southern Albertan landscape was pretty, hiding its dark secrets beneath its cloak of soil where they lie dormant though not dead. I had made my way to the University of Lethbridge to attend what would be my first year of study. So carefree were those days that they seem like a memory out of time, from another life perhaps. I found my way around the Byzantine campus with ease and sanity as my guide, they had later that day left me for dead.
   It was the last stop of the day. The university student's union, as I approached it I encountered a strange feeling. As if something vestigial and near forgotten to my senses was forbidding me to enter. I trudged on forward desperately seeking something that I should naught of delved into. The books of forbidden lore I have perused and the horrors beneath the Innsmouth were nothing compared to what I encountered within those concrete walls.
   I made my way up the winding staircase towards the glass doors that reflected the suns light away from the towering place. Upon entering I found the building abandoned except for myself and my sanity, which waited for me at the door.
   Slowly I trod forward into what was surely a horrible feasting hall, I backed away and found myself inside what was a bookstore. I slowly came to my senses and located a strange device that glowed with power. The 'Text Finder' allowed me to call up the names of all the books I required for my duration at the university. After gathering my large stack of books. I made my way slowly towards the cash register.
   After being greeted by a cheerful clerk. She spoke quickly but I couldn't concentrate. She produced keypad and swiped my debit card. I typed in my PIN and felt the tingle of a thousand nightmares creep up my spine.  I watched in abject indescribable horror as the machine began to punch out a piece of paper with an abysmally large number that I felt ill to read. 'Six hundred and Sixty Six' a cold sweat came over me.
   I woke from my cold fever hours later. Disheveled and ashamed, eventually I came to my senses. I went to class the following day and almost forgetting the entire incident except during the night when the dreams came. These dreams spoke of something that was coming, something that would cause me to surely snap. The mind could only take so much. Oh how I wished I had listened to those dreams. I digress.
   It came early at the beginning of the next semester. I had heard with much jubilation that the university would be buying back books. I took all old texts some of which I had never even opened and went back up those foreboding stairs to the University bookstore. I found a man near the entrance who was not there before with a 'Book Buy Back' sign above his head. I placed my heavy stack upon the frail table that creaked in agony and waited as he looked over the stack of beloved books. He nodded once and with a sadistic grin that would scar my mind he spoke a single sentence. The words that exited his mouth caused my madness, the tragedy at the Old Mill and the disappearance of numerous cattle. The words were a burning iron of pain that was pushed through my mind condemning me to madness.
   "Six dollars and sixty six cents."

I wrote this one when they told me they needed to fill 500 words on publishing night. Most of them didn't get the joke about religion.   


The following was found among some scattered notes left in the Meliorist office.
   Day 1: The experiment begins. I have stop referring to my roommates feline friend as 'cat' and now refer to it as 'dog' I hope by doing this the cat will become less naughty and unruly. Combining the loyalty of dogs with the mobility and durability of cats. I hoped that I could accomplish by the end of the week. It began simply by the name change from dog to cat. I will be a genius!
   Day 2: The cat now responds to 'dog' however I am not sure if this is only from my giving it dog treats when I call it dog. Regardless, the project would go on. After it gets the strength of the dog, I will begin playing dog games with it. The cat still meows when I give it food, I hope by barking at it every day the cat will stop this.
   Day 3: Spent most of the day disinfecting scratches from game of tug of war turned bad. The cat is more territorial and growls when the newspaper boy comes into the yard. We have to keep the cat indoors now. It is not that bad, except for the musk and chewing it has suddenly started to perpetrate upon our furniture.
   Day 4: The cat is now becoming a fully-fledged dog, it plays fetch, drinks from toilet, and even stays on command. I am amazed upon the ease of this success of the project so quickly! I should win the Nobel prize! I can see grants in the mail. School tuition paid for I smell a scholarship!
   Day 5: The cat is exhibiting some odd personality changes. It has begun making weird barking noises at strangers. On a side note it has exhibited super feline strength that equivalent of a dog, also it has begun eating just about anything. I am taking the cat to vet tomorrow. That should fix this abomination against nature.
   Day 6: The cat is no longer a cat, it is dog. Behold, I am man, I have created dog! The cat ran out when I was leading it to the car. I haven't seen the cat for hours. I screamed and chased after it but it was no use. The cat was gone. It has cast off my rule to go and destroy all I had worked upon. My god what have I unleashed upon this world!
   Day 7: The barking won't stop. All the cats in the neighborhood have been acting the same as the cat did when I started to turn it into a dog. What have I done, what have I done. There are scratch marks on the door, what have I done. I am become death, the destroyer of worlds.

Yes. All of these advice columns were in the paper. I was dismissed when contract renewl come up. I don't know why.

I also ran a trio of job paths of my other comical jobs I had dreamed of having. These too. Didn't go well.

I'm your Bogeyman

   As many of you know, I have been searching for my ideal job. Well last week I had a short-lived but life lesson filled experience. I had some how got it into my head that I wanted to be a Bogeyman. I am not sure if it was from watching Se7en for the eighth time in one week or the insomnia. Regardless: I decided, slashing up teenagers in cars parked in woods, chasing cheerleaders down abandoned hallways, and not to mention being impossible to kill was the life for me. So I went to my local department store, picked up an axe, an ugly pair of coveralls and a hockey mask. It was time to go to work.
   I found my first target. It was an innocent looking van with a pair of passengers sitting in the front seat. Parked alongside the road. I snuck up oh so quietly. Hoping the fog would conceal my approach. I took the edge of my axe and began to scrape on the back window of the van. It was a police van. What are the chances? Like 1:100? 1:1000? Of all the vans I have to use for my first target I choose the only surveillance van in Lethbridge. I tried to explain I was just trying to scrape the frost off of the back of their window. They took me down the police station and lectured me on the dangers of wandering around with an axe dressed like a psychopath. I tried to explain to them: I wasn't dressed as a psychopath. I was dressed as a bogeyman. There was a huge difference.
   After spending six hours in a holding cell they only asked made me talk to the police psychologist for two hours. On the way out of the police station, the dream had died. My dream had been shattered so soon. I realized I wasn't cut out for the bogeyman business. I did not possess a supernatural talent, I couldn't even escape two policemen with super-human speed, and worst of all I hadn't been killed and resurrected by my hatred of meddling kids. I walked home that day, in the snow. The cars honking at me as I crossed the bridge in the snow. It was so dreadfully melodramatic that I realized my true calling that I would pursue once I got home. The tragic hero! So I gave the coveralls to good-will, I donated the hockey mask to the local hockey team, and threw the ax in the trunk of my car. Because if being a bogeyman taught me one thing, there is no problem an axe can't solve. Not even frost on a window.

Piracy

   When I was growing up, I took an aptitude test. It said I would excel in numerous fields. Among them there was a cult leader, a journalist, or a pirate. I had decided that my future would lie in piracy. The open waters of the ocean would be my realm. With a flower print Acapulco shirt I would reign terror upon the seas and be hailed as a scourge of the modern world. Widows would scare their bastard children to sleep with stories of me long after I had gone to Davy Jones locker. The wild and open seas, no laws, no limits, just the devil and the deep blue sea. How did I come upon this epiphany? Well let me tell you!
   I was sitting eating a marshmallow pie and realized that I wasn't sure what I was doing with my life. I looked up and there was a wall paper feature a pure blue ocean with a palm tree blowing in the wind. It was right then and there I knew my destiny. I was going to become a pirate.
   I applied to a piracy firm that was preying on vessels off the coast of Spain. They immediately rejected my application on the terms of not being 'jolly enough' and while having previous experience in larceny it did not constitute a 'booty-licous amount of larceny' as per terms of their reply. In a slump from this rejection I didn't give up. I instead bought a bottle of rum and donned my most eccentric yellow 'piratey shirt' and attempted to master the 'swagger' that the rejection notice also spoke about.
   I won't tell you how many times I fell down or what I woke up beside. But the next day I applied to three more piracy firms. One firm in the Caribbean and two near Taiwan. Again the reject notices came promptly, these ones noted that I simply didn't seem 'piratey enough' and said I might cause a mutiny on the ship with my presence. As such I decided I wouldn't work for a major firm, rather start a small firm on the islands around Vancouver. Within a week of opening up and I received a letter from the Pacific Pirate Union noting that I was operating in unionized waters. Therefore I was required to have a parrot (macaw or cockatiel) a first mate with a missing body part and a monkey. Among other things the letter also stated that I was required to join the union if I wanted to continue to operate in union waters.
   I packed my bags and traveled back to Lethbridge by rail car. I still have some of the trinkets of those wild and crazy eight days. A machete, a yellow pirate shirt, and a frayed pair of shorts. Some days when I feel nostalgic I open up my closet and look down at that broken dream and think to myself 'piracy isn't what it used to be.'

Grave Robber
 
I was going to be a grave robber. That is right. I realized my dream of becoming a pirate was foolish and was no longer going to pursue such a hopeless prospect. Instead I was going to tap into the most untouched resource of all. The dead! Every time I drive by the cemetery I couldn't help but think of all that we could have, if we didn't bury it all. Think of all the second hand suits we could have if we didn't bury them in the ground? The dead aren't going to miss having clothes, a coffin, or a silly ring. So I spent $220 dollars earmarked for my best friends wedding gift and bought my grave robber kit.
    It was a small kit, modest but had everything I needed. Well at that time I thought I needed. I never actually realized how little of this kit I would use except for the sneakers.
   - Second Hand Black Trench coat (Dark blue will do)
   - Black Leather and Latex gloves (digging and sorting)
   - Hat (Black with brim)
   - Black Sneakers (for sneaking)
   - Shovel
   - Flashlight
   - Pickaxe
   - Burlap sacks
   So I set out too my first cemetery near in the middle nowhere. First night on the job and I go to work. Or am about to go to work when there is this noise behind me. I turn around and I see this guy standing there staring at me like I am a ghost or something. So I tell him to go away, what does he do? Continue to stand there, staring, this time he lets out a low moan and out stretches his arms. I figure out that he probably upset with the fact I am 'disturbing the dead' or something so I shine the flashlight in his eyes.
   One thing nobody told me about grave robbing is the zombies. Zombies is part of the trade. Hence is why there are so few grave robbers, nobody likes Zombies. Zombies are the Yoko-Ono of grave robbing; they ruin everything. So I realize that the graveyard is full of Zombies. Everywhere, all of them moaning and groaning all sardonically at me! So I realize the severity of my situation. I was alone in a graveyard, surrounded by the walking dead, with a head full of delicious brains and sneakers full with tired feet. Parking far away was suddenly such a bad idea in retrospect.
   So I began to run as naturally, Zombies are slow I was thinking to myself. Not these zombies, some of these zombies must have been working out they were like drunken undead versions of our track team. Adrenaline and fear of death do wonders for your running stamina. So I am running as fast as I can and just can't seem to lose these zombies, I am getting tired but they are just keeping the pace. I get to my car unlock my trunk and get out my seven iron. Whoever said keeping a seven iron in the trunk of your car was 'dumb' obviously never considered being mortally threatened by zombies.
   After about a two and a half hours of whacking the undead twilight out of them. I had dispatched all of my hungry zombie critics. I decided to try another cemetery. Where there aren't so many brain eating occupants. So I drive to this really fancy high-class graveyard. They say I am not allowed inside. I tell them why I want to go inside. What do they say? Usually if people present a viable counter to an argument then I am all for accepting it, what is their terrible excuse?
   Guard: No you can't come inside and rob graves. You will wake the dead.
   Me: What do 'I' want to do? I just want to see if they have anything good.
   Guard: Are you crazy? Rob the dead? What is wrong with you?
   The guard just kept staring down at me like he was trying to get something across. I did understand though, he was very lonely working that late at night and just wanted to talk. So I stopped talking about grave robbing and made idle conversation about hobbies. Turned out he played dungeons and dragons on Thursday nights and wanted too see if I would play too. I had to refuse. My new job of grave robbing would take many late nights to become in the league of Jean-Clad Slick.
   For the uneducated Jean-Clad Slick is the Chuck Norris of grave robbers. He could unearth and sift in minutes. Some say the graves he had sacked were in the hundreds, the truth was it was among the tens of thousands. He was the only one to ever recover dirt from the top of Tim Leary's grave and live to tell of it. And apparently on a dare had once unearthed the resting place of Genghis Khan. I had a picture of Jean-Clad Slick on my wall and wished that one day I would be like him. Anyways back to the guard.
   Like they were some kind of authority. I tried to explain how I only am doing this to pay tuition and don't really want to become a career grave robber but they don't care to listen. They just accuse me of being sick! They are the sick ones, throwing away all that perfectly good clothing! So I left my second graveyard and went to do some reading up on the newest and hottest graveyards. I found out about one in Egypt that was thousands of years old made by the pharaohs at the time. So what do I do? I save up my money, sell my car, and fly to Egypt.
   Someone beat me to the punch! Empty, all of them. Every single one was empty of any kind of loot to be had. I spent the next three weeks at the bottom of cheap bottles of Egyptian beer. Rock bottom, I didn't know what day it was when I finally got the news that snapped me out of it. Every single one of the grave robbers that had looted the tombs I had set out so fanatical to loot had died from the mummy's curse. Not wanting to die from any kind of undead curse I flew home to Canada and sold my grave robbing kit in a garage sale. I hung up my shovel and pickaxe in my garden shed.
   Everything I didn't touch since, except the golf club. Once and awhile, in the middle of the night I drive out to the cemetery and release some stress on the zombies there. I am thinking of setting up a club there. Not sure where they are all coming from. Maybe put a parking lot closer so it is not such a long walk. Regardless I learned my lesson, one cannot rely on the dead to provide them with riches.

Dear Advice, My teenaged daughter has been acting strangely of late. Dressing in dark colors, wearing dark make-up and keeping to herself more than usual. Her friends are the creepy type and they all seem to dress and act alike. Is this just a phase she is going through?  Should I intervene and not allow her to go out with her new friends anymore. Gothic Greg
   Dear Gothic, I'll tell you what be wrong with this child, It be possessed it be! You must drive the wicked spirits out with fire! Fire purifies! Purification through pain! Brand the wicked one with hot burning irons, lest it will take over your mind. Then when she confesses of the sin of heresy we shall burn her on the stake! Or what say you? The spider? Nay! Its too good for her type, we must burn down the entire household and salt the earth while we are at it. You probably have bad blood in you too. Hereditary witchery! Don't worry about intervening I'll get some men about and we will do it for you. You just stay where you are. We will get you, we will get every last bloody one of you.
   Dear Advice, my serious girlfriend and I have been dating for sometime now and have been through all the ups and downs. I don't think I am ready to get married yet but it seems to be on her mind a lot and has been the topic of a lot of heresy. It has been two years am I obligated to pop the question or should I wait until I feel ready and risk losing her? Stasis Stan
   Dear Stasis, you have been with a girl for two years and she not be your wife? What is wrong with you? Some strange godless country you must hail from. My wife? We were married the day after we met, and in two years she bore me two children may she rest in peace. Now she is gone. You had best marry her and get some heirs before the Vikings take her away, like they did my Marie. She was out getting a pail of water and then I heard a scream and those bearskin wearing barbarians had her slung over their shoulder heading for a boat. I hate Vikings. Now I have a mute son and a cripple with not enough mules to trade for another bride. And you are writing to me about your problems, half my family died from that plague! Enough to drive a sod barmy.
   To write to the advice column send your troubles to f.editor@themeliorist.com look forward to next week when we have a very special guest to answer your troubles and quandaries.

Ask Gatwick the Cockney Gent

   Dear Gatwick the Cockney Gent
   I have been having second thoughts about asking my fiancé to marry me. I do love her but recently I have been seeing a completely different person in her. She is wasteful, superficial and a spendthrift. I want my girl back and how can I wake her up from this weird trance? Or should I just end this before I get into some real quicksand.
   Snap-outta-it Sam

   Dear Snap-outta-it Sam
Gawdon Bennet! Yaaahr problem is yew'aven't been there fer'er. If yew were really in'en'on marryin'er, yew would know exactly what is goin'on inside ov'er  skull-box. Seriously if yew fink she is gunna be yer dangermouse it is time to get down to brass tacks. If yew think yew are in barney rubble right now. Tryin' bein' married to a bitter trouble n'strife fer ten donkey's ears then come complainin'. Actually don't because yew brought i'on yaaahrself yew barmy daffy duck. .  OK?

   Dear Gatwick the Cockney Gent
   My husband has been having an affair online and I don't want to confront him about it. I want to make things work for our children but it is so hard when I read the chat log and see his is telling someother women he has never met that he loves her and that I don't understand him. What can I do to get his attention off of this virtual homewrecked and back to his family that loves him.
   Desperate Dina

   Dear Desperate Dina
Gawdon! When was da last time yew an' all 'ad some liberty X? It takes an' all, go fruff everythin' what yew are doin' an' go fruff everythin' what'e'as been doin'an'yew should-probably find aaaht what da problem is. A relashunship isn't  50/50 its mawer like 250/250 ter make fings good. If things don't then don't stick together fer da children. That makes things worse. If'is eyes'n'attenshun is somewhere else then let da elephant and castle follow. Reminds me ov my farfer. Left me muvver fer a forty-four swinging door wiv dysen'ery. .  Right?

   Dear Gatwick the Cockney Gent
   I haven't been feeling myself lately. I recently have been considering moving out of the town my family has lived in for generations. I don't want to just grow up, have kids and then die. I want to go out and live! They don't seem to understand me. Should I just leave with out a word or tell them I am doing this because I want a better life.
   Jet Plane Jerry

Dear Jet Plane Jerry
Awright geeezzaa! If da place makes yew miserable then you 'ave best just bugger off. Its not worf i' ter rot in a Boris da Bold dead end town.  Rarfer van insultin' 'em I would say i'is be'er ter leave in da middle ov da  night an' not say a thing. Be'er off what way, nobody get insulted an' there won't be none barney rubble. Wantin' a be'er life doesn't make yew a Joe Rook. Sorted mate.

Do you have a dilemma or problem for the Meliorist advice column? Write to f.editor@themeliorist.com with all your queries and questions that need answering.


   Dear Grim Reaper,
   My friend betrayed me in the worst way I could imagine. She lied to me and stole my heart and then stomped over it. She knew how to hurt me and did it. I absolutely detest her and her boyfriend now and feel a gut writhing hate whenever I see her. Should I just let this go somehow? Am I obsessing over nothing? What should I do?
  Helter Skelter Stan

   Dear Shot through the heart Stan
   It really doesn't matter, nothing really does. She is going to die in five years from a brain aneurism after a night of drinking so don't let it get to you. As for her boyfriend, he is going to spend the next 15 years mourning something he shouldn't. As for you, your going to get impaled on a road sign in 2036 so I would just learn to get over it. Life is too short for hate. Negative emotions just make life generally unpleasant not that it needs to be worse. I was depressed once, after the black death. The middle ages were no fun at all. I just went from town to town. It was so depressing, all those people dressed all in black. Mourning, day and night. Sorry that was a pun among us stiff's.

   Dear Grim Reaper
   I recently attended a party where the guest of honor was none other but myself. I was surprised at this and really didn't know how to react to it all. Regardless people were put off by my extreme ignorance of the occasion and I have been announced as the social dunce amongst my social groups. How can I fix this? Help!
   Help! Henry

   Dear Help! Henry
   I don't really see what your complaining about. Not attending parties with them is actually good for you. You will outlive them but die of lung cancer anyways. That is what you get for smoking so much at the parties. Regardless they will die in a natural gas explosion during their barbeque next week so I wouldn't be too upset about the whole ordeal. Think of it like. That life is a game and the point is not to die. Which you will eventually. Everyone loses the game of life. Most will be forgotten in a few generations and fade away from all memory. What does it matter if nobody remembers you? I had a chess match with Old Man Time, he asked me what would be worse, to be forgotten completely or remembered with hatred? I really had no idea what to say.

   Dear Grim Reaper
   My roommate has been very stand offish lately. I finally confronted her and it turns out it was because she thought I was sleeping with her boyfriend. I don't know how she came to this conclusion but I need to reassure her we are not sleeping together. What can I do to regain her trust?
   Sexy Sadie

   Dear Sexy Sadie
   You know what? I don't know why I even bother anymore. I am sick and tired of this. Do you know how many places I have to be at once? Infinite. I have to kill flora, fauna, bacteria, people, aliens, alternate realities and all of that. I hate it. I need a vacation. I don't want to have to kill puppies and kittens anymore. I so bored with my job. Does anyone want my job? It is not that bad. Please. Anyone? Give me a call. I mean even if you just need to talk about stuff. I am really lonely. Nobody likes to hang out with me let alone look me in the eye. Its really hard for me to make friends. I have MSN if you want to send me an email about chocolate peanut butter cups. I really like eating those. Oh what is the point. I don't need you, I don't need anyone. I need a hug.
   
Do you have a dilemma or problem for the Meliorist advice column? Write to f.editor@themeliorist.com with all your queries and questions that need answering.

Dear Advice, I have a feeling my boyfriend is cheating on me despite that he swears up and down that he is 'Just friends' with a girl who had answered his cell-phone on numerous occasion when I call him late at night. Am I just paranoid or am I being set up to be hurt. Paranoid Penny
   Dear Paranoid. In my day a woman stuck by her man no matter what. No more though, I am alone. Left me for the milkman. You best hang on before you are past your prime, old withered away and nobody will visit you. Not even on father's day. Nobody, never. So alone. So alone. So very alone. Throw him out and find a better man, in my day we had to duel to have a woman's hand in marriage. Now whippersnappers today are running around with each other like mad march hares. I wish I was young, like you. Then I would be out dancing the jitterbug! Now go away and leave me to my empty and horrible life.
   Dear Advice, my children are out of control. I want to be their friend and not use spanking like my parents did but they don't listen to anyone! I am at my wits end, what can I do to get respect from my out of control kids! Stressed Susan
   Dear Stressed, In my day you could command your kids with your eyes. But now they don't respect me, they just think I am old and useless. An artifact meant to be forgotten. Kids today don't respect their elders anyhow, why would they respect their parents. In my day when a little brat got out of line we would thrash him to sleep with a belt. So don't talk to me about discipline, my pappy beat me thrice daily and I turned out fine. No I don't have nobody though, children don't visit me unless they hear I am close to death in the hospital. So go take your whining somewhere else. I don't even know my grandchildren's names. You think you are the worst off in the world? You think you got it tough, try having cholera! Ha! That would teach you. Damn kids.
   To write to the advice column send your troubles to f.editor@themeliorist.com look forward to next week when we have a very special guest to answer your troubles and quandaries.

These are the rest of the advice columnists I had. Sadly they like the others didn't go over as well as I had hoped.

Ask Richard the Pirate

   Dear Richard the Pirate
   I have joint custody of my children with my ex-wife. Recently she has been filling their heads with nasty lies about myself and their stepmother. They are very young and impressionable and all visits between the kids now are awkward and I find them often whispering and staring at me strangely. Should I get a lawyer again or is there a good way to tell my wife to be civil.
   Divorce Donnie

   Dear Divorce Donnie
   Yar! Yee be a lily livered land-lubber! Take your young-uns back and show that troublesome sea hag what-for! Slandering the captain and spreading mutiny could get a man hanged back in my day. Just make sure to bury the precious plundered booty afterwards! Mark the map with an X and seal it inside of an old leather bound book. Keep an eye out for the storm and send a man into the crow's-nest. Har-har-har! However, keep watch that you do not kill an albatross! Bad luck, almost as bad as taking a wench to sea! Yar!

   Dear Richard the Pirate
   My girlfriend and I recently went out on a couples night and it led to some awkward moments between us and old friends. They are always all over each other and it makes us feel kind of sick when we are there trying to have a decent conversation. It is nice that they are so into each other but is there a way I can tell them to keep the public displays of affection down without sounding like a prude?
   Annoyed Andy

   Dear Annoyed Andy
   Argh! I love the smell of sea brine on a maiden's breath. Almost as much as I love the sea. No woman can tame me, nay. For my heart belongs to the sea. Their hearts belong to each other, do not try to tame them. For it is like trying to tame the sea. Yee will only end up in Davy Jone's Locker. Their public knavery be nary that of a sea worthy person. Ditch them to the ocean and make them walk the plank. Yar-be-dar! The sharks will take them and feed their restless bellies.

   Dear Richard the Pirate
   I recently was caught driving under the influence and my life has been torn apart. My kids look at me like I am a monster. My wife has to drive me to work like I am teenager. The people in my congregation look and laugh at me like I am an alcoholic. I am trying to get the message out to my community to not drink and drive but people just call me a hypocrite. Is there a way I can spread my message so that other people call cab and don't end up like me? Nobody listens to me!
   Deaf-Ears Dwayne

   Dear Deaf-Ears Dwayne
   There is only one way to get attention in this situation. Raise the Jolly Roger and board the other ship! Take action! Shoot cannons off and ignite the powder room with a torch. The explosion will destroy their ship and they won't be able to ever pass onward where your secret hide out is. Yar! Don't forget the grappling hooks can double as weapons in a pinch! Argh! Just watch out for flying body parts. They hurt really good.


Do you have a dilemma or problem for the Meliorist advice column? Write to f.editor@themeliorist.com with all your queries and questions that need answering.

Ask Mister Smiley Sunshine

   Dear Mister Smiley Sunshine
   I have recently discovered my teenage sons collection of pornography. I feel it is filthy and should delete the humungous file but my husband says it is better than having him knocking up some random girl and its perfectly normal to have pornography at his age. I am just worried about it leading to something else. What should I do!
   Troubled Teresa

   Dear Troubled Teresa
   Well doesn't that sound like a pickle! I think you better pull your brows down and wear a smile because being all worry wobbly won't win your trouble away! You just got to sing! Compose a song or draw some pictures showing why you believe pornography isn't healthy for him, then have your husband show him using pictures and a song why pornography is perfectly normal! Then everyone will get along fine! Golly what a HOT FUSS! If that doesn't seem to help you can do what I do when I get down! Drop some high-powered blotter acid. Make everything perfectly clear. Like this one time, when I saw a fish appear in a top hat and coat and explain to me the intricacies of the universe.

   Dear Mister Smiley Sunshine
   I have been having trouble with my weight for sometime but I just can't seem to keep it under control. My family just says I am weak and have no will power but I feel they aren't understanding me. I have no support and they don't care if I am miserable or not. I am exhausted and what can I do to show them I really want to change.
   Breathless Bob

   Dear Breathless Bob
   Sounds like someone has been having too many snack times! You had better just go out and frolic in the fields more with Mister Meyow-Meyow. Don't worry to much what they seem to think you can have lots of support when the sun comes out and starts to sing too you. If all else fails then you can always just embrace it and go to their houses in the middle of the night, eat all their food and then leave before they wake up. That would make them care faster than wearing a pink hunter vest saying 'help me.' If they STILL don't get it if you do that little stint, just do what I do when my family gets me down. Drop a sheet of brown acid into the punch at the next family gathering and watch the poor saps claw their eyes out from paranoid self destructive insanity.

   Dear Mister Smiley Sunshine
   I wrote in awhile ago about a troubled relationship with me and my best friends boyfriend. The columnist 'Brugnahk the Devourer of Flesh' suggested I devour him. I took this figuratively and now have cheated with him several times. I feel terrible but he says he loves me so much more than her. I am having second thoughts. What have I done?! Is there anything I can do too correct this mistake?
   Sweet Nothing
 
   Dear Sweet Nothing
   Uh-oh! Someone made a big booboo! Shucks howdy looks like you are out of luck! And how! Mister Meyow-Meyow and I are very disappointed you would cheat with your best friends boyfriend. Bad girl! VERY BAD GIRL! So you had best come clean see your best friend with both you and her boyfriend and explain what happened with a song and dance! That always lightens the mood. And if that doesn't work you can always just do some acid or have an orgy. Or both! I always enjoyed that back in the 60's.

Do you have a dilemma or problem for the Meliorist advice column? Write to f.editor@themeliorist.com with all your queries and questions that need answering.

Ask Gerald the Cherub

   Dear Gerald the Cherub
   My fiancé always forgets valentines day and my birthday. It drives me up the wall and I try to do things to remind him with out being to blatant but he never seems to catch on. I think these days are really special and want him to realize that it means a lot to me if he would remember these things. What should I do, I love him but he is driving me crazy.
   Forgotten Fiancé

   Dear Forgotten Fiancé
   You know what I am sick of? People like you. That is right, you! You are always complaining about him not remembering some stupid manufactured day to sell cards and chocolate. You know what? Here's a hint to get you through this obviously stressful time in your love life. IT DOESN'T MATTER! I don't know why I shot you two with that arrow in the first place. IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A ONCE NIGHT STAND! You people make me sick! He even slept with your sister. That's right! Be you didn't know that one! Try being me for a day. I help you people out and all you can do is whine about being so confused. It is love so enjoy it while it lasts you weirdo.

   Dear Gerald the Cherub
   I have been seeing a guy off and on for a few weeks. One of my friends told me he is interested in seeing me exclusively but I don't know why he would feel that way. I thought it was just some fun and I don't feel that way for him. Was I giving off the wrong signals? What do I do if he asks me out exclusively? Is there any way to end this as friends when he obviously feels something for me?
   Muddled Maria

   Dear Muddled Maria
   You know what? You are sick. You are the reason I hate my job. I stuck him with an arrow for a reason. And look what you do! What? Just a little cuddling, necking, kissing, hugging, and you wonder what the signals were? Are you crazy on acid? What is wrong with you? Is it so blatantly obvious that you can't figure it out? You know what? You brought this on yourself. You figure it out! Okay? You are the one messing with his heart. You can dig your way out of your little hole. Why do all the people I put together  come back and haunt me! What is wrong with you people? Huh? Just be happy, have your little snotlings and then die in your shallow graves! You make me sick! Pandas that are becoming extinct from not breeding are easier to understand than your simian simpletons.

   Dear Gerald the Cherub
   I have been feeling really alone. I have never had a girlfriend and though I try and try but they just don't like me? Is it me? Is it women? What can I do so I won't  be alone anymore? I just want to be with someone finally. I have listened to my friends advice but I don't want to change myself for people to like me, I want them to like me for who I am.
   Lonely Larry

   Dear Lonely Larry
   You know what? Try being me. I am about two feet tall, I have stubble, smell like cigarette smoke and bourbon. I look like a baby version of the Unabomber with a five o'clock shadow. Maybe follow your friends advice, being yourself is severely overrated. Maybe try going out instead of sitting around the house complaining to your friends about how lonely you are. So you know what? I have had enough! I stuck plenty of girls with arrows for you and what do you do? You just find some reason not to go out with them. What they don't compare the women on your computer? Get out there! Develop your social skills through trial and error. I am so sick of you people! You know what? The only thing worse than you people is that time when I had to spend an afternoon with Victor the Reaper because he lost his keys and needed me to drive him to the hospital for an Ebola outbreak.

Do you have a dilemma or problem for the Meliorist advice column? Write to f.editor@themeliorist.com with all your queries and questions that need answering.

This columnist was a ninja I ran for two issues like brugnahk. Sadly he went over about as well as all of my dear abbey from hell articles.

Ask Musashi the Ninja

   Dear Musashi the Ninja,
   I have helped rehabilitated my brother from a vicious bout of drug addiction and now he wants to live with my two children and I.  As much as I do believe in caring for family the prospect of him being in the house with my children possibly unattended after I have heard some of the things he had done to get drug money, makes me nervous. I love my brother but how can I tell him to back off gently.
   Callous Carol
   Dear Callous Carol
   When the British devils brought their devil opium to our country my grand-mother told me of how many souls it claimed. We fought it every way we could. With sword and law, but that failed. With shadow and silence, but that failed. Finally we found the only way to drive out the demon of addiction. Fire. What was wrought in the pits of hell will be pushed back into it with flaming arrows and pyres of the great piles of devil opium. The addicts we burned with rods of iron to drive out the demons, the beast of addiction has great resolve. But it was defeated. You can defeat it too. Using the only true friend of mankind. Fire.
   Dear Musashi the Ninja
   My family received their government rebate and my husband wanted to spend all of the checks on a big home theatre, while I suggested we save the money. I don't want the kids to learn to live beyond their means just because of an odd surplus. What should I do? I don't want to make a big fuss over something that is really small in the big scheme.
   Nora Troubled
   Dear Nora Troubled
   There is nothing worse than those who squander the gifts of our great emperor. The gifts of the great emperor should be treated as a sign of change. Not as foolish play money to play monopoly or whatever nonsense they plan to use it upon. Do not spend it upon a home theatre, build a shrine to the great emperor and his generosity will return. The Ralph Klein god-king of Alberta shall reign eternal!
   Dear Musashi the Ninja
   I am responding to Desperate Dina. Gatwick the Cockney Gent advised you to re-evaluate the marriage. I believe if his eyes wander, let the rest of him follow. Don't take any crap from your man. No way! Show him that you are going to value yourself enough to take a stand.
   No-Crap Clark
   Dear No-Crap Clark
   Indeed he should follow his eyes to their destination. Perhaps you should see if a fox maiden is luring his actions. Fox maidens are vicious demon tricksters or Oni. They only live to cause pain and suffering to those that are near their webs of death and madness. Banish the fox maiden to the land of wind and ghosts. This can be accomplished by burning out the fox demon from the foul temptress. Using hot iron pokers they demon can be coaxed from a mortal shell quite easily. After finishing this your man should be back under control.
Do you have a dilemma or problem for the Meliorist advice column? Write to f.editor@themeliorist.com with all your queries and questions that need answering.

Ask Musashi the Ninja
   Dear Musashi the Ninja
   I have a problem. My brother is being bullied at school. This would be easy to solve except the bully is not only a girl but her parents are my sister's friends. I have been neglecting confronting the problem but my brother has been feigning sickness to avoid going to school. Is there a way I can solve this without rocking the boat?
   Boggled Brother

   Dear Boggled Brother
   Only a samurai can kill a samurai. When training to be a ninja in the monastery a band of samurai from the neighboring kingdom came and stole our horses. We sent them an emissary to ask them to nicely return the horses, they sent the emissary back strapped to the back of a horse without a head or hands. I learned an important lesson that day, good manners are wasted on the ruthless. Do not give this bully hospitality. Fight fire with fire. So long as your fire burns stronger, his will be suffocated.
   
   Dear Musashi the Ninja
   It hurts to pee, what should I do? Sometimes when I try it doesn't work. Help?
   Clogged Cleo

   Dear Clogged Cleo
   It is one of two things, evil spirits or an infection. The first is the most deadly. Demons are only able to be driven out with burning hot iron rods. The rods are inserted into the possessed area to injure the demons within. The wounds must be covered with pepper and stuffed with salt. If this does not drive the demons out, you will be forced to amputate, the entire area. In the case of a sexually transmitted infection, make sure you are tested immediately and seek treatment as soon as possible. A doctor from the city can cure this with a potion or salve. The strange in odd clothes man from the sea spoke that this results from unprotected 'floor-cest'.

   Dear Musashi the Ninja
   My Grandma, recently decided to purchase a Playstation 2. I am glad she is embracing technology however she is now spending all her time playing this weird game with a giant talking head and a ball that you roll over things. She doesn't go to the mall with friends, or knit anymore. I keep telling myself the obsession will break but she doesn't seem want too go out and enjoy the end of her life while she is still around.
   Against-Games Allie
   
   Dear Against-Games Allie
   Life is a fleet blink before the old tired eyes. The game you speak of is no game at all. No that is Katamari Damacy. The music is trance-like and makes the body groove to the funk. It alike kabuki theatre, allows the player to enter a state of enlightenment. Do not interfere in this divine vision, perhaps your grand mother will attain enlightenment in this life yet.
   

I found another. Ireland for yee awl.   

A Survivor's Guide to St. Patrick's Day
   By Chadwick Wizilbotum
   Hallo chaps! Chadwick Wizilbotum here! I have been off the radar for a bit because of I was captured by the archenemies of England; Ireland. Well not so much captured as got rerouted on my flight back to Lethbridge from Angola. I spent four hours in that torturous hell-hole. When I went to the airport amenities store, the clerk confronted me with a strange dialect. It was then I realized where I was. Ireland. I ran to the giant plate glass windows and began to scream and pound on the windows. Damn Ireland. The only thing good to come out Ireland is St. Patrick's day. However, many brave souls have been claimed by this day. Far more than Valentines day or Groundhog Day by far. Except for this one time back '84 when we had the groundhog revolution in eastern Salisbury. Lost a lot of good men that day. Damn commies. Regardless, with no further ado I present the survivors guide to St. Patrick's day.
   Pot of Gold: Avoid leprechauns at all costs. Damn Leprechauns. They often appear as alcohol poisoning induced hallucinations or from being drugged. So watch your drink unless you want to be pursued by small men dressed in green for five to six hours on your evening, before of course collapsing into a catatonic despair. So be smart, know your limit. Remember, the only time it is okay to drink green beer is safe. St. Patrick's day. Unless of course you are wearing green tinted glasses, like back in '93 when we had a drinking party with night vision goggles on. Course we got ambushed by a battalion of Iranian Rebels. But we foiled them. Damn Rebels.
   Yuggoth the Shaggai: Learning to speak with an Irish lilt is kind of like learning to speak with a thieves cant. An uncomfortable and irritating dialect I wish I could erase the memories of that four hours in Ireland. Regardless, I have come too two conclusions. Unless you are from Ireland, or can fake an Irish dialect extremely well. Don't do it. You sound like a lucky charms leprechaun. Honestly, every bar all I can hear is dozens of people yammering on like they want to have fun or something! Bah! Stop it! Like back in '89 I had to pretend to be a journalist from eastern Ukraine. Goodness, that was a lot of explaining when I dropped out of accent in the middle of the meeting with the KGB.
   Mad Cabbies: Getting home is usually a dangerous issue. All things foul come out at night. Leprechauns, Queens, Fairies, Sick! One day a real rain will come and wash all the filth off the streets. I think the clash said that. Regardless they have a point. This St. Patrick's day will probably be colder than a goat's anus. So if your drunk, don't walk home. Call for reinforcements to get home. A cab, a tank, a helicopter, even a brigand of Militia from Vietnam like when we were trapped in Laos during '75! All these chaps had were black pajamas and World War I rifles but goodness they took out all the insurgents held up inside of the observatory! So be safe, don't become an ice brick.
   Well that is all about I can think about right now, I am still recovering from the four hours of rigorous torture I endured in Ireland. Damn torture. So stay safe my chaps and keep calm even when you are confronted with a three foot tall man dressed from head to toe in green. Just remember, after stealing a leprechauns lucky charms he will offer you three wishes, take these three wishes. But afterwards if he offers a fourth wish, refuse it. For it is a trick that not only reverse your previous wishes but make you appear in the middle of nowhere! Anyways that's all and oh yes! I almost forgot. Never trust anyone from the New World Order, even if the name is Lincoln.
   Now go be a hero!

I used to publish also advice columns in the section of the paper, here is one of my personal favorites of the paper a demon that devours flesh, obviously this didn't go over too well as cannibalism may have pushed the envelop too far. I was surprised I didn't get fired earlier but then again that is contract work for you. Easier to just say "we found someone who isn't insane." Har har! Since my firing they removed them,but my old paper is at the bottom if you want to she what a shame it has become. sometimes they still let me write horoscopes under a pen name but i can't be "out there."


Ask Brugnahk the Devourer of Flesh
   Dear Brugnahk the Devourer of Flesh
   I have been feeling awkward about a close relationship I have with my best friends boyfriend. He talks about how I 'understand him like she doesn't' or other really private problems in his relationship. I am getting the feeling he might want out. Should I tell my best friend he saying these things and give her first strike? I don't want to be a home wrecker if I am just paranoid.
   Sweet Nothing
   Dear Sweet Nothing
Brugnahk believes he has heard this petty story before, the story bores Brugnahk and he wishes to only feast upon the soft sopping wet skin of the innocent. One cannot expect Brugnahk to give advice to such a callow and bloodless whelp! Take advantage of your friend's lover. Make him comfortable around you and when his guard is let down make an intimate move. Then bite down into his spine while wearing a jaw brace to paralyze him from the neck down. Then you will be free to dine at your leisure. Mammy, Dinner is Severed!
   Dear Brugnahk the Devourer of Flesh
   I have been thinking of leaving the church I have been brought up in for sometime now. This is because I don't agree with some of the doctrines and commonly held opinions of my congregation. This will exile me from all my family and friends within the congregation and I would have to start over. Should I take my stand and accept whatever comes or just hope they will change?
   Messed Milton
   Dear Messed Milton
   Brugnahk cannot understand why you have not abandoned them already for the one true faith. Join the great devourers that hide beneath the veneer of sanity that your precious world of light is balanced. Turn your back on these pagans and embrace the insatiable ones. They cannot understand what you will bear witness too, you and the others will be the midwives to a new era! It will be penned in the blood of martyrs. Those fools will only change when forced too, and they will be forced to change. Change or be devoured by the myriad minions of Magnum Innominandum.
   Dear Brugnahk the Devourer of Flesh
   I found some smut on my boyfriend's computer the other day. I confronted him and he just shrugged. Is it weird for me to feel as if I am competing with his virtual women? Or am I just afraid that I don't measure up to his airbrushed airheads?
   Virtual Virginia
   Dear Virtual Virginia
   Flesh feast! Flesh feast! Brugnahk feasts upon flesh! FLESH! FLESH!! FLESH!! Strength is stored in his soft delicious quivering heart. You must devour his heart, feast on his flesh, eat his entrails, and consume his cranium to steal his memory. Then you will find out if he truly loves you more than his false lights.
   Do you have a problem that you cannot solve? Ask one of our advice personalities at The Meliorist. Email your quandaries and queries to f.editor@themeliorist.com

Ask Brugnahk, the Devourer of Flesh

   Dear Brugnahk, the Devourer of Flesh
   I just had a nightmare blind date. The guy I went with came on way too strong and while I 'was' interested at first, he got weird fast. How do I let him know I don't mind being friends with him but he keeps calling asking me to be his girlfriend? Don't they offer seminar courses of the do's and don't of dating? Or is he just daft?
   Irritated Irene

   Dear Irritated Irene
   The meat-bag you went out with on the blind date with has kuru. An ancient deadly disease of cerebral rot. Do not feast upon his flesh or extract fluid from his spinal column. No matter how delicious the sweet nectar of life may taste, you must resist the temptation to feast. Let him down gently, into a pit full of rats that have been starved for two days. Then watch the feast of flesh. Keep his heart as a trophy, he has admirable courage in being so forward.

   Dear Brugnahk, the Devourer of Flesh
   My boyfriend has pressuring me to have sex since we have been together. I have explained I want to wait until I am married so I am not just 'another girl' on his belt. It has caused quite a few problems and it is driving me away from him. Should I dump him and find someone new who will abide by my request for chastity? I love him.
   Chaste Cathy

   Dear Chaste Cathy
   The organ-sack desires your body to rut upon. You must resist his lure. You must strike first. Invite him over for sex, after tying him to your bed turn off the light. Leave the meat-bag here. After a few days of starvation his body will cannibalize his fat reserves. Once he is tender and lean as you like, you can now dine at your leisure on his quivering flesh. A Flesh feast unflawed by fat is delightful.

   Dear Brugnahk, the Devourer of Flesh
   My father died recently and in his will he called my mother a harlot and left his widow nothing. I am torn between duties to my mother and the memory of my father. I can't do anything for a dead man but the fight for my fathers estate has my other siblings calling for DNA tests to find out who are legitimate children. It is getting out of control and I am getting tired of watching our family get torn apart over greed. What should I do?
   Tired Tom

   Dear Tired Tom
   These corpulent gluttons have dined too much on soft flesh of callow weaklings. You must not be torn by their razor teeth. Strengthen your skin by flogging it with a leather whip. After a tough sinewy hide develops confront this self proclaimed family and slaw them all with your teeth and claws. Afterwards perch quietly upon the mountain of skulls and lick the sweet skin from their limbs.

Do you have a dilemma or problem for the Meliorist advice column? Write to f.editor@themeliorist.com with all your queries and questions that need answering.

The Survivors guide to love. Har har!

The Survivor's Guide to Love
Chadwick Wizilbotum

   Hallo Chaps! Back from my exotic escapade once more just in time for the most wretched time of year in the northern Hemisphere, Valentines day. The day when all those lovely doting couples shower each other with gifts and ungodly affection. Bleach! Give me three more months in the jungle I begged my commander, just don't send me home to face the happy couples. But alas, here I am. I have had my fair share of affairs and liaisons. However I regret none of these escapades. Save for one. I once made love to a neo-Nazi skinhead woman named Gretel, inside of a reconnaissance van during a stake-out. It leads to the ambassador of some strange country getting killed but either way you should have seen the tattoos on this woman! Egad it was like she had fell asleep at a house party of an employee of the good people who make Sharpie markers. Delicious Sharpie. Either way the incident ended badly as we were both found out by our commanding officers and were forced to sit naked and be scolded in eastern Berlin. Those were those wild 80s for you! With-out further delay, the survivors guide for love.
   Love and War: Love is similar to war in several fundamental ways. First of all, all is fair in both. And the victors write history in both ways, what would have been cheating was actually being meant for each other. What was actually selling weapons grade plutonium in the summer of '93 to a cult of doomsday fanatics for several million dollars in gold bullion is suddenly perceived as making of connections. Unfortunately this seems to happen repeatedly too me sometimes. It always seems like such a good idea when nobody can find out. So whatever you do. Always win, at any cost. ANY-ANY cost.
   First is the best: This is a fallacy. Your first time is never the best. The first time I was in combat I was nervous, sweaty, I didn't even know what to do with my rifle. I lasted about three seconds before I shot and was embarrassed when I realized it was too soon. Regardless I find the most effective way to overcome this fallacy is to have as much liberty X as possible as often as possible with as many different partners as possible. Thus giving the largest chance for finding someone who is right for you. Also it keeps your nerves sharp. Like back in '84 I had to defuse a bomb after a quickie in the hummer, goodness, I never saw my hands move so steady. I was smiling all week after that one I do say!
   Divide and Conquer: The only way to get over one defeat is too move onward and attempt another. Waiting and letting time too brood over the defeat only will make the troops anxious and is brewing time for a mutiny against the captain of the unit. So keep frosty, keep moving. Give yourself a maximum a day of moping per month involved in the conflict before the defeat. Never give up and never surrender. Unless of course you happen to be in France at the time like we were captured in Paris back in '97. Goodness! If this is how they treat their privates how do they treat their captains?
   Guerilla warfare: Sexually Transmitted Diseases are the terrorists of sex. They make everyone paranoid and untrusting of their allies. The thing about paranoia is however, it all pays off if you are right ONCE. So keep safe. Protect yourself. You wouldn't go onto a battlefield without your flak-jacket would you? No I didn't think so. So don't allow yourself to be put at risk by these terrorists. Sneaking in undetected. Hiding in bushes and causing explosions and destruction to manpower! Clogging up drainage systems. Damn Terrorists.
   Betrayal: Harold Pinter wrote a play about this. Relationships that is. If you don't know what happens when people have an affair go and read it. Things will fall into perspective very quickly. Betrayal is a rotten end because you can never choose where and when. Just seems to happen. Like waking up inside of a body bag thirty miles from Las Vegas to the sound of someone digging a hole. It can always be worse. Just remember that a nuclear device can go missing and people can start pointing fingers. Or she could tell you she is pregnant. Whichever you feel is worse. Regardless. If they will cheat with you they will cheat on you so trust them like you would a mercenary. Not at all that is. Which is why mercenaries are so great! You don't feel bad when they die. Sort of like Lab Rats that can shoot guns and make their way through extremely big mazes for large pieces of cheese.
   So in sum, keep your head down. Don't peek above the trenches. If you can see the flash then duck and cover! Love is difficult and at best can be described as a fickle hell-cat, at best a calming lovely companion and at worse a demon that destroys and consumes your very soul with it bestial hunger. So remember kids be safe, be calm. Don't PANIC! Whatever you do, do not panic. And if you ever meet a New World Order agent offering sex and power to you, make sure to not trust them. They will blackmail you with the photographs and coerce you into smuggling illegal weapons technology from the good people at Procter and Gamble. That's all then! Don't be a fighter, be a lover.
   Now go be a Hero!