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Published August 14, 2011 More Info »
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Published August 14, 2011

Dear Andy Griffith:


I can’t believe that I am writing to you.  But the problem I have is so difficult to deal with that I feel I have no other choice.  The problem is my husband.  He wears nothing but his bathrobe all day.  This is sometimes embarrassing, especially when we go shopping or to the theater.  He does, however, put slippers on when we go to our special restaurant.  I am the one who makes the money so that I can feed him, the worthless slob.  If I only had the guts, I would kill him in his sleep.  What should I do?

- Weeping in Winnipeg


Dear Weeping:

Your problem reminds me of a funny story.  A couple once had the strangest feeling that the baby they brought home from the hospital wasn’t theirs.  So just to be sure, they went back to the hospital and asked them to double check their records.  And sure enough, it wasn’t their baby.  In fact, the woman was never even pregnant, but had instead gone in for a hernia operation.  They were both immediately arrested and are both doing time in adjoining maximum security facilities.  The baby remains at large.


 
Dear Andy Griffith:

I have a very difficult thing to share with you.  On occasion, late at night when nobody is awake except for my drunken neighbor, I will dress up like Charles De Gaulle and parade around my kitchen cooking croissants and speaking about Socialism.   Is there something wrong with me?  And did we really go to the moon?


-  French Fried in Foxborough


Dear Fried:


You do that?  Me too!  I thought there was something wrong with me.  But tell me something, where did you buy your hat?  I find mine to be not quite authentic enough.  But that reminds me of a funny story.  I read that the economy is so bad that some people are even having their tattoos removed, and then putting on temporary tattoos saying “This Space for Rent” or “Eat at Joe’s”   The economy is so bad that Rapper 50-Cent changed his name to 25-Cent.  Your momma so fat when her beeper go off people thinks she backing up.


 
Dear Andy Griffith:

I have a deep fear of cats.  I am also afraid of heights, widths, pears, any type of tree, freeways, and in-laws.  I also get nervous around Mormons.  What can I do?


- Loony in Louisiana


Dear Loony:


That reminds me of a very amusing anecdote.  I saw that commercial that says, “When you Come to the Olive Garden, you’re family.”  So I went to the Olive Garden, and sure enough it was just like my family.  Most of the people there were intoxicated, the cook was angry, and I couldn’t get out of there without someone asking me for money.  Here is my advice for you.  Get a dog.  Stay on the ground.  Do not move to the left or right.  Cut down all of the trees in your neighborhood and stay there.  Do not drive.  Do not get married.  If you are married, get out of it, and now.  And for God’s sake, stay out of Utah.


 
Dear Andy Griffith:

My husband says that he wishes our lives were more interesting than they are.  He wants to be free.  He wants to travel.  He wants the wind in his hair.  Can you believe he said that?  The wind in his hair?  What does that mean?

- Confused in Cleveland


Dear Confused:
 
The next time your husband’s head is near your nether regions, lightly break wind at or near his hair.  That should do it.  But that reminds me of a funny story.  It seems as if there were two couples who lived next door to each other, but never spoke.  They communicated via sign language and Funnyordie, which was very difficult since they both had dialup.


The first couple was Sid and Nancy Bowel, who had been married happily for 3 years, and then unhappily for the next 24.  Then there was Fred and Julie Shoulder, who were married somewhat happily for 6 years, and then for 4 years they were unsure of their level of happiness.  This was followed by a period of numbness, desperation, and excessive internet use.  After many years of this, the Bowels moved and the Shoulders separated.

Dear Andy Griffith:

My mother-in-law and me have a bet.  I say spider monkeys have eight legs.  She says they have four.  Who is right?  (A seven-piece chicken wing dinner is riding on this, so please tell us that I am right!)


- Crazy in Columbus

 
Dear Crazy:
 
That reminds me of a funny story.  The Olson Twins were recently on Oprah, doing a story on ridiculously rich celebrities and their guests, when a question arose from the audience.  A guest asked if they had ever Twittered, to which they replied “Yes, but not in public.”  So they are now the first celebrity twin twitters on record.


But back to your inane question.  You are both right.  The Australian Spider Monkey has eight legs, but the Madagascar Spider Monkey (Monkus Spiderus) has only seven.  So have fun with those chicken wings.

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