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ASK MAX

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Archive for September, 2005

September 15, 2005 Edition

Thursday, September 15th, 2005

Hey Max:

This girl I was/am into…I was supposed to go on a trip to visit her next week. She was into me, etc. And then, two weeks before I was going to go, she told me not to come. I haven’t changed my ticket yet (I have until Monday) and I’m wondering if I should still go. So, Max…should I still go?

Frequently Confused Flyer

Dear Frequently Confused Flyer,

She told you not to come! Do you know that song “Mama Told Me Not To Come?” Well, that’s neither here nor there. All I know is, if my mom tells me not to do something and I do it (like eat that piece of sandwich on the street… or that chicken bone…or the nectarine pit that ended up getting lodged in my colon and cost my mom a lot of money and me a lot of dignity) then usually it’s a bad idea if I do it. Plus she gets mad. Of course, she forgives me quickly because I’m so cute, but cuteness only gets you so far. Just spare yourself the money and keep your dignity. Otherwise you’ll be out $300 bucks, the girl will be mad, and you could get really bad diarrhea like I did. Think nectarine pit. Make it your mantra.

Dear Max:

Is this song about YOU? “Max_Likes_to_Talk_About_France” Do you even speak French?

Clayton

Dear Clayton,

French? Wee wee! All the time. I just have to remember to go outside or I get in trouble. Now what’s this about a song? I don’t know that one, but I do believe there are several songs that are written about me. Like: “Max the Knife,” “Maxwell’s Silver Hammer,” “Max My Bitch Up,” “The Lights Went Out In Maxachusetts,” “I’ll Be Home for Christmax,” “The Monster Max,” “Maxter of Puppets,” “Maxquerade…”

September 5, 2005 Edition

Monday, September 5th, 2005

Dear Max:

What is your owner/partner/ mother’s (aka Caprice) worst dating story? I’m dying to know … but no names please.

Someone who actually may already know

Dear Someone,

I asked my mom. It seems she’s been through years of therapy to try to block them out…however, she did start incoherently rambling about…being forced to walk 2 miles in high heels for Ethiopian food, having to fend off attacks on her dinner plate from one guy who seemed determined to consume both of their meals, being called on by another guy to referee his recent awful break-up with his ex, and having to deposit one drunk and passed out date at the feet of his parents by opening the passenger side door of her car and unceremoniously shoving him out.

Dear Max:

How many galaxies are there in the Universe? I often look up at the night sky and begin the count, I find that; I either get interupted or lose count and have to start all over again… I need your help. I think I might be developing a form of OCD, so as soon as you can answer, I’ll be able to move on to other important unanswerable questions.

Waver

Dear Waver,

As always, Max is here to help. Let’s start with the Milky Way…now, let’s move on to the Snickers. Wait a sec—chocolate is bad for dogs. So then…let’s stick to the Payday. (All peanuts.) But, you asked about galaxies…and problems with counting. I too know this obsession. Every day I count the moments before dinner. And by my calculations it should come much sooner.

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