Y'all. I've been asked by Tracy Lynn of KaplyInc to do a spot of filling in on her weekly advice column. Being a person of very little common sense, I agreed.
Below is the result, ripped entirely from Tracy's site (and yes, she said I could).
Welcome, miscreants all, to the latest edition of Ask HAT. We are doing things a bit differently this week, as Hyperion has gone on the run. I'm not sure who's after him; could be Colombian drug lords, could be arbiters of good taste. Either way, Tiff of No Accent Yet has agreed to be the first in a series of guest Hyperions until the authentic one either can set up a new identity or somebody smokes him. I'm hoping somebody smokes him, but that's just because I'm an optimist.
Anyway, here is the least painful Ask HAT we've done, EVER. Enjoy!
When we want your opinion...yeah, that won't happen.
Dear Ask HAT,
What do you look for in a good date?
Looking for Love
Tiff: A good date should be sweet, brown, and slightly gritty, with a luscious chewiness and a leathery exterior. The date should go well with wine and is always good when served with a generous amount of cheese and fruits.
Tracy Lynn: Dude, I'm pretty sure the writer is referring to people not fruit. Simmer down there, spaz, and reconsider the question.
Tiff: Hang on now! I WAS talking about people. It's called subtle humor, yo. Read the answer again and see how awesome you think it is now that I've pointed that out. Then, maybe, YOU could answer in whatever way you think your tai-chi-ing self can muster while I go huff some xanax to center myself.
Tracy Lynn: If that's the case, than you are far more the freak than I previously gave you credit for being. Leathery, indeed. And how does one huff Xanax? Do you grind up the pills? Because I can tell you from personal experience that stuff in capsules is meant to be taken orally, no matter how good an idea it sounds to grind it up and snort it.
Tiff: You are cleverly focusing the interest on MY issues, and completely ignoring the question. I can respect that, in light of how hilariously arch my response was. Great wit must be recognized, after all.
Leathery and brown, from the sunny climes of tropical lands just SCREAMS hott. Whoo-ee! I think I need a little time out on that one.
As an aside, huffing Xanax, or any other oral medication, is useful when you have a very sensitive gag reflex, as I do.
Now, please to mention what's a good date for you, before I grab the spotlight entirely with my erudite repartee and block out the sunshine of reader adoration from your little corner of the web.
Tracy Lynn: Obviously, SOMEBODY has been following Hyperion's diet regimen. I prefer guys who are smart and can make me laugh, which is not an easy feat, and additionally would like to point out that the newness and/or cuteness of Tiff will in no way protect her from an asswhuppin'. Just something to keep in mind.
Shall we move on to the next question?
Tiff: Let's do, because I think you just likened me to Hyperion, and now I'm terribly terribly confused. Plus, you threatened to beat me up, and while that might sound good at first blush, I remember about the tai chi and how slowly I run due to the heavy load of cute with which I'm burdened.
Dear Ask HAT,
The first date went very, very, very, very, VERY badly. How can I cut this dud date short?
Signed,Waiting Impatiently For An Exit Strategy
Tracy Lynn: What the hell has happened to the youth of today? When I used to date, and no, I won't explain, my girls and I always set up the Escape Plan, which generally consisted of a sneak phone call on a bathroom trip and being paged at the restaurant/bar/theatre with an 'emergency'. This has become eminently simpler with the advent of technology like text messaging, pagers and cell phones.
Lacking that, I'd fake illness, for example: incoming migraine or perhaps nausea. Make sure it's not too specific, although I'll admit that this tactic failed me, resulting in the dud date sending me a dozen long stemmed roses and following me around until I brutalized him verbally, which wasn't as fun as it sounds.
How about you, Tiff?
Tiff: Well, I know for sure that a quick boink in the back seat to send him on his way won't work at all, because the dozen or so times I tried that I wound up dating the guy for a couple of months thinking there must be something there besides my desperate need for someone to admire the unicorn tattoo that's in a place where the sun don't shine.
So, don't do that.
Some options not mentioned above would be: tell him he's a rebound. get caller ID and avoid him. get good and drunk on his dime, then puke. make a pass at someone else in front of him. talk all about the boyfriend you had with the enormous dick. eat a lot of garlic and act like a close talker. tell him the truth in an honest and gentle manner.
I've heard that the last one does actually work, but I never have had a chance to use it. Seems too cruel.
Wait as second! Did you just say the verbally brutalizing someone wasn't as fun as it sounds? Do NOT tell me you capitulated and went out with him again because you felt guilty for giving him a tongue-lashing!
Tracy Lynn: What, are you mad? Of course not. It just was not the pleasant experience it should have been, considering how tired I was of having him puppy dog me.
Telling him you'd like him to meet your folks sometimes works, as does letting him know you want his kids and that you're looking forward to spending the rest of your life with him. I know that shit sends me running for the proverbial hills.
I DID tell a guy that I had had sandwich pickles bigger than him, and that had a dampening effect on his ardor, thank god.
Wait, unicorn tattoo? How far from where the sun doesn't shine?
Tiff: Ahahahahaha!!!! I totally forGOT about the "I love you so much I want to boil a bunny for you" thing. Wooo! Works like a charm, that one. Talking about children and what a great Mom you'd make and how YOUR mom only got fat after the fifth kid is pretty good, too. Hee!!
Isn't it a huge disappointment to get a gander at a gherkin-sized agent of manhood? I feel badly for the guy, sure, but that wee willie is just gonna be a huge waste of time, because while it might be good for SOME things, it ain't good for most. Too bad there's no really accurate screening tool for tools until it's almost too late.
Then again, with my gag reflex thing......
Anyhow, the tat. Let's just say it has a long flowing mane of real hair! Paulo down at the tattoo parlor took an awfully long time getting it done, I had to go back at LEAST a dozen times to have the color put on her. I think it looks more like a cat, to be quite honest, but it does have a little horn on it's forehead, so I guess it's a unicorn, or maybe a caticorn? I don't know. All I know is it gives the men quite the thrill. You ought to get one, Tracy - they're OK now and not just for whores like my mom said they were when I got mine done.
Tracy Lynn: Thanks , Tiffster, but I already have four and have my tattoist working on the design for the fifth, so I know exactly how much the boys like them.
Tiff: So you ARE just what Hyperion said!
Tracy Lynn: Jesus, he's not even here and he's STILL on my nerves with his asshattery. That's frickin' skill.
And so, the George Washington rule swings into effect. Join us next week, when we plumb the depths of the internet for new questions, a guest host and the possibility of permanent relief from Hyperion. And remember, you've got questions, we've got answers. Whether we share them is another thing entirely.
UPDATE: The newest carnival of the mundane is up at Kapgar's site. Go on and visit!