Dear Captain Obvious: Living in Genoa City these past couple months has, as you might expect, made me lose all will to live… as a dignified citizen that is. I was happily blazing a career path as a hard-ass stylist when quite without warning I felt a compelling desire to take off my self-esteem and flush it down the toilet. Inexplicably I’ve been devoting all my energies, and then some, going after a man that wants nothing to do with me. The more he humiliates me, the more turned on I become. The other day, while screaming at me to stay the hell away from him, little drops of his spittle landed on my face, and I remember thinking how I couldn’t recall the last time I spent a more agreeable evening. I’ll do anything, ANYTHING to be a part of his life even if it means getting pregnant by someone else and passing it off as his baby. Love Me Tender.
Dear Love Me Tender: It’s not very often I get a sample of 100% ho bag not made from concentrate, so, thank you, that was refreshing. You are practicing the oldest trick in the book: woman falls for man, woman becomes obsessed with man, woman eventually loses all grip on reality and turns out be an embarrassment to herself and the entire female species. You can’t possibly think this is going to turn out well you poor, poor pathetic thing. I’d be careful if I were you sweetheart, it’s not uncommon for folks to turn up dead in this town and the case go unsolved.
Dear Captain Obvious: I am the most annoying child in Genoa City. I love to make glib remarks and grate on the most patient of nerves. I’m also a singing prodigy and have been known to belt out an unsolicited tune or two. My mother and I are squatting with relatives until we can rebound from financial hardships. I really miss home and wish we could go back. How can I get my mom to feel the same way? Amazing Grace.
Dear Amazing Grace: Don’t worry, your usefulness will expire in due course. If you’re feeling particularly antsy though, and wish to extricate yourself quickly and expeditiously, have mommy develop feelings for a man already in a relationship thus becoming a thorn in his wife/girlfriend’s side. Before long she’ll be ran out of town on a rail and you both will be reunited with whatever rock you crawled out from under.
Dear Captain Obvious: I am a world famous French artist who is hot and, how do you say in your language… zee bomb? I received word that my ex-girlfriend moved from Italy to this, this….Mid-western wasteland you call Genoa City. It was so crazee to picture her with the cheese and the cows so I decided to pay her a visit and see for myself. When we meet, zee fire zat burned between us could ignite two Eiffel towers. I know she felt it too even zough her full, soft as pillows lips told me otherwise. Zat’s bullsheet! How can inspire l’amour in her again? Pepé Le Pew.
Dear Pepé: I know your kind. You think that if a woman tells you she wouldn’t go out with you even if you were the last man on earth you would still think you had a chance with her. Perhaps I should introduce you to Love Me Tender, you two seem like the perfect psychotic pair.
Dear Captain Obvious: To say that I hate my son’s girlfriend would be putting it mildly. She’s melodramatic, promiscuous, unreliable, and needy—in short everything I was 14 years ago when I first blew into town. I toss and turn every night as the nightmare of her becoming my daughter-in-law haunts my dreams. I want her dead, but don’t want to get my hands dirty. Any ideas? Mother Cub.
Dear Mother Cub: Keep up the henpecking and you’ll only drive them closer together. Don’t you have anything in your life to occupy your time so that you don’t spend so much of it worrying about your son’s sex life? Perhaps you could take up a hobby as a motivational speaker for all the stupid people that are littered about the town. Maybe then I can take a vacation every once in a while.
Originally published: Jul-12-2008
