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Ask The Vatican Assassin (Before It's Too Late, Part 2)

Got a problem? Well, your worries are over: We here at Shaking Through World Headquarters have an expert in the field of "problem-solving." When he’s not busy carrying on the noble tradition of the Knights Templar (“God’s Green Berets”) -- snuffing out world leaders, dispatching demons and generally saving the world like a long-haired, street-smart James Bond -- Vatican Assassin spends his free time indulging his every hedonistic whim, which gets him into lots of trouble. Who better to dole out helpful advice to the lovelorn, conflicted and confused?

Posted: February 16, 2004

Before It's Too Late, Part 2

Editor's Note: Approximately eight minutes after sending his first letter, the correspondent we've chosen to call "Before It's Too Late!" followed up with this rather puzzling change of heart. Normally, I won't even bother forwarding an email so full of spelling and grammatical errors on to the Assassin. But given that this correspondent is obviously spoiling for a fight, I decided to overlook his hasty negligence of basic writing skills. Errors are left intact for context. -- Kevin Forest Moreau, Editor-in-Chief

You know what? On the other hand, fuck you you asshole. You call thid\s afucking love advise website and all you doo is diss people when they have a fucking problem. Yo your bullshit, if some one ask you for your advise just give them some fucking real advise (in other words thing they want to hear not the bullshit your sending out you dipshit ass hippie lookin mutha fucker). Post this letter on the website if you got the balls to skipper! Yo ass aint nuthin. Post my shit on yo site and me and you will call each other names and Ill kick your ass and get it over with you fucking sheep fucker. Cause your advise sucks ass Imean is this website or is it for animals becuase by your advise it seems like you benn fucking gerbals or some shit you sadistic bastard wooh! glad i got that off my chest!

Dear Nincompoop In North Carolina,

Damn. You try to help someone and this is what you get. Allow me to educate you on some simple facts of life... that is, if I can focus; it's really hard to type when I'm laughing so hard. Please, I invite everyone else to join me in pointing and laughing, too.

"you call thid\s a fucking love advise website"

Actually, no I don't. In fact, neither do the editors of this site, which, you may not have noticed, isn't an advice site at all. As to my advice column, if you'd read the bio next to my "dipshit ass hippie lookin mutha fucker" picture, you would have no doubt had trouble comprehending the following words: "Who better to dole out helpful advice to the lovelorn, conflicted and confused?" That, in English, means an advice column, on all levels, not solely a "love advice" column. McDonald's puts little pictures of all the food on the cash register for employees just like you. Isn't English supposed to be your native language? You might want to learn it someday.

"all you doo is diss people when they have a fucking problem"

Hey, truth hurts. Especially when it's pointed like mine, and mine is pointed because sometimes that's the only way people will listen and pay attention. The truth hurts because lots of people in this country and this world have their priorities fucked up. You ask advice from me, then you get me telling you what is what. Straight-up truth: that's how you get it. If that's not how you want it, then don't ask for my opinion. Am I too harsh? Maybe. Hey, somebody's got to be the bastard, and Shaking Through agreed that I was the bastard for them. Does my point still get across? Absolutely. If you're too thin-skinned to not be able to take it when someone says "You're fucked up, what the hell are you thinking?" when you tell them your sob story, then don't ask for advice. It's that simple.

"if some one ask you for your advise just give them some fucking real advise (in other words thing they want to hear not the bullshit your sending out)"

This was the part that made me run to the bathroom, I was laughing so hard. Let me get this straight. You're saying when someone asks for advice, whether it's mine or Dear Abby's, that we should LIE to them? Oh, that's rich. Well, "skipper," even the nice ones don't lie. They write their own opinions, too! Shocking, I know, but there it is. Tell me: If I lie to you, then what's the point? It's been said that all advice is, is the truth you already know, but just need to hear. Besides, if I lie to you and it doesn't work out the way you want, then you'd think I was to blame for not telling you the truth! The real world is more complex than that, "skipper." Your mother lied, not only when she told you you weren't adopted, but also when she said that you can have it both ways. (She did tell the truth, though, when she rubbed you on your head every day before school and said you were 'special', and that was why you got to ride on that short bus.) I'm not here to be your friend or molly-coddler. In fact, I'd bet my paycheck that most people who've read my column, and even the ones who have written in, would say being straight and unabashedly to the point was the way to go. I know a couple have even thanked me for it. What would lying to them have gotten them in the end? I don't care if you like me or not. I say my piece because you asked, and then I go to bed at night and never give it another thought.

"Post this letter on the website if you got the balls to skipper! yo ass aint nuthin yo ass aint nuthin post my shit on yo site and me and you will call each other names and ill kick your ass and get it over with"

Yes, I have the balls to, for lots of reasons. One: You are about as much a threat to me as your Eminem haircut is attractive to the ladies. Why? Well, for one, I have the law on my side. My own personal attorney, in between chuckles from reading your letter, remarked "He wouldn't be that stupid." Your little howler monkey brain failed to realize that when you sent your email, all of your information came with it. Oh! Oh! Oh! You make such a cute face when you get to the bottom of your tall, cold glass of reality! So, yes, I have your email address -- and, incidentally, the address of the person you've been cc'ing your letters to.

So here's the real deal, and it's probably the best advice you'll ever get: Be smart, and don't try to take this further. First of all, there's nothing to take further, except in your mind. Second, this won't be a 'posting' war of any kind. This isn't you and your other nerd friends exchanging flames from the safety of your basement. In the real world, your threat-filled emails with your name on them are more than enough to get you in hot water with your parole officer. Here in reality, we get to block your e-mails, and what's more, we get to report threatening ones, too, as we see fit. That also goes for contacting me directly outside this site. Seems they take threats of any kind over the e-mail pretty seriously these days.

Oh, but wait, there's more for you, Junior. What's with your fronting? In your last letter you mention your "behind" but in this letter your puberty must've hit, because now you can be a man and say "ass." And you stray smoothly from broken English straight into bad hip-hop-ese. I see "Hooked on Ebonics" didn't work for you. Dude, all of your poor chest-puffing and trying to scare me with your hip-hop dialogue only makes me take you even less seriously.

"cause your advise sucks ass imean is this website or is it for animals becuase by your advise it seems like you benn fucking gerbals or some shit"

This was almost as riotously funny as the last part. Let's see, my advice sucks -- so you write into the column??! Yeah, that makes a hell of a lot of sense. What's more, apparently you wrote in before you read any of my advice columns. So you wrote this letter to what, counteract the first one? Hoping I'll ignore both letters and be so scared by your net bravado that I wouldn't reply to either? That worked really well, didn't it, class? And you wonder why I dis people? You're the reason, champ. And just out of curiosity, how can you tell merely by reading a letter if one enjoys sexual congress with animals? By experience, I would guess?

I don't know about you folks, but I think I'm beginning to see why he and this girl split. She got tired of being the brains of the outfit.

"you sadistic bastard wooh! glad i got that off my chest"

I guess if you thought I was a sadistic bastard before, this letter proves it. But I'll give you one thing -- and one thing only -- that you're right about. It does feel good to get things off of your chest, doesn't it? I hope so, because that's all you get. The neat thing about advice columns is that you get no rebuttal to my response. That's it. You lose. Thanks for playing. I get the last word, always. All you get to do is stew, and I get to continue to laugh. What's more, it stays posted online so future visitors can laugh at you, too.

Time for you to get off your parent's computer now, 'dawg'. Tomorrow's a school day and you wouldn't want to be late for your remedial classes at the Votech Institute. Don't get all blubbery on me now; it's just a fact of life. Every now and then, you meet someone who's better at something than you are. You've just met yours, is all.

Now get off my lawn, you damn punk kid, before I turn the sprinklers on you.

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