THE ASKTATION

Dear Ask Boz,

When is Ask Boz going to start sucking less?

Indy

RESPONSORIAL

Dearest Sierra,

Happily, never! Taste test after taste test has proven that only through sucking more can we fulfill the Ask Boz prophecy. And it is you, Indy, that is the key to that very prophecy.

Indy, have you forgotten your grade school summers reading your whole Ask Boz/Nancy Hardy mysteries? Forgotten how you cried during Are You there God, it's Me Ask Boz, or puzzled out the mysteries of The Ask Boz, the Ask Boz, and the Wardrobe? Oh, how you laughed and gamboled along with us when you read Little Asky Bozpants? But there was something you noticed about them all: each time you read them, and snorted your Ask Boz Cocaine, and inhaled your Ask Boz brand Sir Huffalot Paint Cheesy Spread, patterns began to emerge in each of these texts. It was like a puzzle, a sweet, saccharine, sugary, syrupy, gooey puzzle, but you didn’t have all the pieces.

Don't you remember your special dream? No, not that one, pervy. The one where you realized that you only needed to put on your Ask Boz Prophecy Decoder Shorts and suddenly all the hints contained in the Ask Boz books, Ask Boz carry-ons, Ask Boz "hair care magic" line of car wax products, Ask Boz crayons, and Ask Boz Apple Sauce Tart Suprise Thai-Sickle Wasabi Pops, would fall into place.

What the hell were we talking about?

Oh, yes, the Prophecy. Thanks, Ann. You saw it there before you in the air, Indy, didn't you? Emitted from your Prophecy Shorts, hanging there languorously, the Prophecy seemed to say, “Do you think I’m sexy? Buy me a drink.” And you did think it looked cute, and wanted to kiss it. But you can't kiss a prophecy, can you, Indy? No, but you tried and tried, and worked yourself up into quite a little state, didn't you? After you calmed down and cleaned up, you looked at it again. "Like a Map," you thought. Yes, Indy, a treasure map. And the X marks the spot of the greatest sucking of them all, the sucking that will make Ask Boz winner of the universe!

Our journey into this new, intense and focused level of sucking will make our present sucking seem to indicate that we sucked at sucking, in comparison to how grandly we will suck. Soon we will prove that we can suck so bad that it will seem like we invented sucking, and things that seemed to suck before, like war, and famine, and Family Circus, will feel like putting on warm socks, just out of the dryer on a cold day

Despite the total sucking of Ask Boz , mankind will continue their slavish worship, laughing even during the era when it is clear Ask Boz is simply cutting and pasting text from Yanamamo porn sites as a substitute for answers. This will save us time to develop the coup d' grace of sucking, "The Family Porn Network." Finally, tasteful, educational, and spiritually fulfilling porn will be broadcast, so moral and religious families can start enjoying what Glen has long taken for granted. Sadly, the prophecy tells us that despite its complete artistic success and total sponsorship by Proctor and Gamble, the nation will just not be ready for all-ages pornography. Within days of the debut of its memorable motto "We Give it to You Family Style," the Ask Boz headquarters will be attacked by screaming mobs, and our labs will be pillaged, raped, and razed. Every single person associated with, or who has ever read, Ask Boz will be paraded in the streets. They will made to recant their belief in Ask Boz, and reveal all the Proctor and Gamble products they ever used, and renounce all of them, even the “Nice and Easy” and “Clairol Ultress,” then killed anyway. After this frenzy of violence against people, cleansers, and snacky-cakes, mankind will awaken to the realization that they have seemed to have done the unthinkable: killed Ask Boz.

Yet no one will have .... been ..... knewn, um, that Ask Boz had cleverly hidden our collective DNA and personality in Disco music. Set to trigger in 2016, The Great Ask Boz Disco-Integrator will finally fulfill the prophecy, as we reform the Ask Boz Super Happy Bling-Bling team, and resurrect all our former fans. We will become a giant with a billion heads, and we will then proceed to eat the universe. After the great belching, and several millennia on the toilet, each head will eat another, until there is only be one left. Then there will be no more questions, or complaints about “When are you going to write another classic like “Jay Cohen’s Godzilla Jihad against Albino Jonas and the Kill Hippy Sneaky Ha-Ha Club” for ever and ever, and we will have won. Oh. We might keep Bill Mill’s head too, in case we have trouble falling asleep. Thanks for the reminder, Ann.

In this little infinity will only be heard the steady, quiet breathing of...

Ask Boz

---

Home