Psychobabble 8

Psychobabble No. 8: Dear Psychobabble... by Gustavo Belotta and Simeon Johnson Here it is, mid February, and the Psychobabble mail box is full to the brim with correspondence from our loyal and loving Scabs all over the world. So we was sitting in the official Psychobabble office, right upon the great Porcelain God, the Throne of Knowledge, and we flipped through some of them. Of course, we were all out of toilet paper, so we didn't actually get a chance to read all of the letters (by the way, we must ask that if you send us correspondence to be sure to write it on soft, absorbent paper. We prefer Charmin) but those that we did read were, well, interesting. So here we are, prepared to delve into the psyche of our twisted, demented, and in some cases downright certifiable fans, and we haven't got a flashlight. It's dark in there, oh so dark. And moist too. Did it just get hot in here or is it just me? It's our first time spelunking, so this should prove to be an interesting experience. Be afraid. Be very afraid. Your name may come up.

Our first letter is from a young girl in Akron, Ohio. She asked that her name be withheld because of the delicate nature of her letter. Okay Katie, not a problem!

Dear Psychobabble,

I'm quite glad to see that you finally got your posters in my favorite teen mag. I've several questions for you.
1. How do you get spandex that tight on to such large muscular bodies?
2. Is Simeon really that cute in person?
3. Why hasn't Gus Called me back? I thought he liked me?
4. Where did Gus learn to do that thing with his tongue?
5. And finally, where do you live ( not like I would show up naked or anything) .

Hugs / Kisses and Hot oil treatments,

your Fuzzy Wuzzy Whip wielding baby

OK, Five direct and intelligent questions which deserve five easy and intelligent answers, so here goes.

1. Sorry babe, twasn't spandex. That was latex, and a carefully guarded secret.
2. No. No one is that cute in person. Although he is, oh, shall we say... do-able.
3. Well, Gus is a very busy man, what with appearances to make, books to sign, promotion dates to fulfill, not to mention the many centerfold spreads he is scheduled for. But I'm sure he likes you just fine. Oh, and don't get discouraged if the next time you try to call you find his number's been changed. He'll call you.
4. Gus says he learned that tongue stuff after many years of training with Tibetan Monkettes in the Himalayas. Personally, I think it's a family thing.
5. As for where we live, well, we could tell you, but then we'd have to shoot you. Sorry Katie.

Our next letter is from Mike, a 14 year old from Pennsylvania. Mike writes:

Hey dudes,

I let all my friends read your stuff. It's really, really deep, man. We all want to know what kind of music you listen to. You righteous dudes must listen to some kickass tunes I like The Metallic Crash of Utter Destruction, Gelatinous Brain Tumor, and Earsplitting Blood Gurgles From Hell. We got a bet going here that you guys listen to death metal, and cool music like that, so we would really really be totally cool-feeling if you would answer this letter.

Dear Mikey,

First of all we would like to point out that Mike is spelled with a K, and Music is spelled with a C. But all grammar aside. We feel that your particular choice of Orchestrated melodies leaves a lot to be desired. We think that this particular type of frustrated teen angst type music usually just gives adults the idea that public radio is a good solution for entertaining the misbegotten youth of America Thereby increasing the bad top forty music and hiding the people with real talent from young ears. In case you do not understand our subtle and enlightened approach to advise you in your mistake of musical choices we will say Death metal is for wussies. We generally listen to music that others may find annoying but rarely cause rejection of the brain. (I hear that Zamfir and Julio Iglesias are coming out with a duet album. OOOOh I can't wait!)

So until later Mikey Don't mistake your head for a Zit

The Psychobabbler

Here's our next confusing and enlightening letter from a well informed and darkened soul. His name is Earl and his problem is a big one.

Dear Psychobabbler
I am eleven years old and I have a problem with my classmates. They don't like me and lots of times they beat me up and I don't know why. What can I do?

Broken and Bewildered in Brooklyn

Dear Broken and Bewildered in Brooklyn,

Your situation is not an unusual one. In fact it happens all the time. My sophomore English teacher used to spin a yarn about his youth in New York (coincidentally, your neck of the woods). You see, he grew up with a kid named Calvin Klein, who is now a famous clothing designer who is rolling in the dough. My English teacher and his friends used to beat the living shit out of that weak, prissy little snot. So quit your sniveling and bitching and live with it. Maybe one day you'll be rich and famous, while the kids who beat you are working in auto factories sorting gears, and boy, won't they be sorry then?
This next note is a doozy. It comes from right here in good ole Billings sent by a young lady attending college at Rocky.

Dear Psycho-whatchamacallits

My name is Meghan, and I like to ski. Why haven't you guys written about skiing in your little stories? Also, you haven't written about music, bungee jumping, sky diving, taxidermy, open heart surgery, angioplasty, orthopedic donuts, Europe, and, most importantly, Cyber Optic Long Distance Communication Companies. Come on guys, there's a large, untapped market out there that you're just not getting. Get on it!

Just bein' helpful in Billings

Dear Nutsy,

After reading this letter I sat there and wondered, ‘oh yes, why didn't I think about it this way before? It all makes sense now!’ Then I realized that this particular Wanker-Two-Planker has had one to many Yard sales. So to answer your questions, 'Nutsy ' "SO?"

See you later and wear that lacy thing you wore last time,

The Psychobabbler

Dear Psychobabbler

I just wanted to say how much I respect you guys for your message to today's confused and spoon fed youth in the way you say "You're human, but there is still hope." I would like to ask you guys a personal favor. Would you please release my friend from that spell you cast upon her during the last new moon ceremony you attended? And please please please don't tell any one I wrote you. People would laugh at me.

Every one knows I'm in charge,

Hillary Clinton

Dearest Hillary, This letter should have been used for wipe, but I just couldn't go any more. My first question to you is: Are you sure you sent this to the right people? When did we ever say there was still hope? And we weren't even at the last new moon ceremony. We were sick in bed. Listen Hill, it's not that we don't like you personally or anything, it's just that whole authority shit we don't like. So piss off. Oh, by the way, your friend will be fine in a month or two. Till then, we recommend she eat a lot of prunes.
This next letter is all the way from Germany. It reached us just as we were flushing, lucky for it. It was sent by one Istiyana Volksbaugh. We had to translate it ourselves. It kind of goes something like this, we think:

Dear Psychobastards,

How dare you treat vimen like dey are zome zort oof trash. Ve are not your playtings, and eef you ver here right now I vould cut your penises off like dat Bobbit voman. How vould you like dat? Also, I vant to know ven you are making Psychobabble T-shirts and sveatshirts, and eef I can steel get zee official Psychobabble Frisbee for only $19.95.

Sincerely,

your leetle sex kitten

Dear Pussy of love First of all MOM I told you never to write me here and have told the postman not to deliver any more letters from the penitentiary. Second of all, at the end of this Issue I was going to introduce our new line of Psychobabble T-shirts and sweats shirts but we need a design for them so we are running a T-shirt design contest.

First place wins: Dinner with Simeon and Gus, a Psychobabble totally written

about them, and a free T-shirt and The Complete Collection of Psychobabblers nonsense.

Second place will win: An all expenses paid trip to Joe's bathroom were they can expel the free Quad Mocha supplied courtesy of the Psychobabbler and to choose the subject of a Psychobabble issue. Did we mention that you get a free T-shirt too? And the complete up-to-date works of the Psychobabbler.

Third place will win: We '11 make fun of you in the next psychobabble until you cry and then we kick you. All winners are going to receive a free autographed picture of the Psychobabblers. (maybe if your lucky we'll be clothed) This is not a joke. Obviously, because it wouldn't be very funny if it was. Well, unless everyone decided they wanted to enter it and they went crazy coming up with a wild and crazy design and got their hopes up really high, only to have them dashed by our cruel little trick. But really, it's not like that at all. It's all on the up-and-up, and just to prove it, we're charging an entry fee! Naked Pictures! Or that old stand-by, cigarettes and coffee cigarettes and coffee, cigarettes and coffee. Did I mention cigarettes and coffee? Or option number 3, if you don't smoke, don't like to buy people coffee, and don't particularly want us to see you naked. $.69. If you have a design that is truly definitive of Psychobabble, we will treat you right. First we'll get that design from ya, then we'll help you seek professional help. Sex therapy, the whole nine inch--uh, yards. Oops, Freudian slide. Anyway, entry deadline is March 17, or somethin' like that. There will be a box at the counter, or near the counter or somewhere in this coffee shop (Artspace) labelled T-shirt Designs. Don't delay, but take your time. Winners will be announced on March 21. Yes, this is for real. So get on it. And good luck. You'll need it.

(Editor's Note: The contest is obviously over. It happened 4 years ago, and we've gotten over it since then. You can still send in art, but don't expect a prize or nothin'.)