Skip to main content

Gus Answers Reader Mail



Welcome to another exciting installment of "Gus Answers Reader Mail", where I do a great service to humanity by dispensing invaluable words of wisdom to clueless sad sacks who are desperate for answers to life's little problems.  Here we go.


My son is addicted to video games.  How can I break him of his habit?

First you must ask yourself, "Hey, just who in the name of sweet baby Jesus is running this house?"  If you answered, "Why me, of course", then put on your big boy pants and law down the law like every decent parent should.  You want to break little Jimmy of his video game addiction?  Then march right into his room, unplug his X-Station or PlayBox or whatever the hell kids are playing with these days, and burn it in a trash barrel.  Don't bother hiding the gaming system, because kids these days are sneaky.  And when little Jimmy complains, bend down so that your face is an inch away from his and exclaim, "Waaaa!  You poor little sack of monkey excrement!  Want to play games?  Then get off your fat ass and go outside like a normal person.  And if you want to play video games ever again, get haircut and go get a job and when you start bringing home a paycheck then you can buy all the games you want, you spineless lily-livered sissy boy."  Could it be any simpler than that?


I'm a conservative Republican but I just proposed to my girlfriend, who is a liberal Democrat.  Do you think our marriage will be able to survive?

What kind of question is this?  Hey knucklehead, in case you haven't noticed, married people are miserable.  And if you ever see a married man with a smile on his face, it's probably because he's entertaining fantasies of boinking the sixteen year old babysitter.  As for politics, there's no way you'll ever be able to get along with a tree-hugging bum-loving bleeding heart liberal.  Therefore, if you want the marriage to work, you must brainwash your bride-to-be.  This can be done by recording several hours of Glen Beck, delicately placing earphones over her head while she sleeps, and playing back conservative talk radio in a continuous loop.  After a few weeks she'll either lose her liberal tendencies, or she will have an inexplicable urge to convert to Mormonism and buy a Sleep Number bed.


How do I decorate my home in a shabby chic style?

Who the hell do I look like?  Martha freaking Stewart?  Asking me about home interiors is like asking the pope for sex pointers.  I may not know much about interior decorating, but I have thumbed through enough of the old lady's Better Homes and Gardens while sitting on the crapper to tell you this- shabby chic is for women who like to decorate but are just too plain lazy to develop a cohesive design plan.  And since so many women are lazy these days, this explains the popularity of shabby chic.

Do you have any dieting tips?

Hey, lardass, put down the damn Twinkie!  How about that?

My husband always seems to have to work late, and when he comes home he doesn't even give me a kiss anymore.  Is he cheating on me?

Your husband's behavior doesn't necessarily indicate infidelity.  It could just be that he's no longer physically attracted to you, or that you annoy him so much that he spends as much time away from the house as possible.  But then again, he could be cheating on you.  If you want to know for sure, borrow a car and tail him home from the office.  If he stops anywhere other than a fast food joint or a gas station, he's probably cheating on you.  If he drives around aimlessly for a few hours before coming home, it just means that you annoy the bejeezus out of him.  Try being a better wife, lose a few pounds, and learn how to cook, and you probably won't have that problem. 


Got a question for Gus?  Send it to gusmuldoon@yahoo.com

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

How to Deal With Having an Ugly Baby

If you're the parent of an ugly baby, you've probably been asking yourself lots of questions ever since your bouncing bundle of shame came into this world. Questions like, "Is this some sort of punishment from God?", "Should I leave him in a dumpster?" or "How much can an ugly baby fetch on the black market?" These types of questions are perfectly normal. The only thing that's abnormal is being the parent of an ugly baby and acting like you have the cutest, sweetest, or prettiest baby in the world. That, my friend, is mental sickness.  When my oldest son was born, I was asking the same questions myself. I fell to my knees and raised my arms to the heavens, asking, "What have I done to deserve this?" In the delivery room, I pleaded with the doctor to put him back in because he didn't look quite done yet. When that didn't work, I waited until no one was looking and tried to swap him with a better-looking baby from the hos...

Gus Muldoon's Month in Stupidity, Volume 2

June has been like a vine ripe with idiots, and stupidity was so rampant this month that I had to devote not one, but two columns to the topic.  Last week I profiled five mental midgets who should've been wiped out by natural selection long ago, and this week I'll shine the spotlight on five more.  So without further ado, I give you Gus Muldoon's Month in Stupidity, Volume 2. 1. Oliver Stone is a limp-wristed lily-livered sack of squirrel scrotums This week, filmmaker Oliver Stone appeared on CBS This Morning in order to promote his new film, and in the process confessed that he was a doobie-smoking Commie.  While extolling the virtues of being a pot-head, Stone reminisced about his days fighting in Vietnam, stating:  “[Using marijuana] made the difference between staying human or, as Michael Douglas said, becoming a beast. I’m telling you, it’s rough and a lot of people in that platoon used it, not on the front line but in the back, to stay in touch with themse...

Why I Don't Support Breast Cancer Research

I don't know about you, but I'm getting pretty darn sick and tired of all of this breast cancer awareness bullcrap.  Is there anyone out there who's not aware of breast cancer?  I find it hard to believe that some schmuck in Ashtabula is being handed a pink ribbon at this very moment and exclaiming, "Why, I never knew that women could get cancer in their boobies!"  But what really flips my jib is all of these 5Ks and marathons and mini-marathons and half-marathons, all with tongue-in-cheek names like the Ta-Ta Trot or the Jog for Jugs.  What's next?  The Million Melon March? My friends, if you believe that power-walking around the track of a middle-school stadium in your yoga pants is going to save lives, then you're about as bright as a mineshaft at midnight.  Think about it.  In any given town in any given year, there are a few dozen of these feelgood fun runs designed to raise money in order to find a cure for breast cancer.  For $25 a pop,...