Kitty Van Buren dons her Internet Advice Columnist hat and spews advice (updated 1-10-01):

Dear Readers:  It appears that several of you enjoy boring me to tears by sending your revolting stories of how you met your pathetic spouses.  Please, you are cutting into my drinking time by sending me all this shit.  Go back to your knitting and tell your little stories to your imaginary friends.
   --Kitty Van Buren

Dear Kitty,

Can you stand one more "how we met" letter?

I thought you would appreciate this because it involves your column.  I was at a teenage sock hop last week, and some young teenage girl was there with her boyfriend.   Suddenly, she loudly announced that Kitty Van Buren told her that chastity was for losers, and immediately began copulating with her boyfriend on the table.

Well, I was stunned by this behavior, and was none too pleased.  I went right over to that table and said, "Stop this madness, you blasphemers!"  A waiter came over and said in a very wonderful, sing-songy tone, "Don't you just hate breeders?"

That waiter's name was Bryce, and, well... to make a long story short, we're celebrating our 57th anniversary today.  And Kitty, we owe it all to you.

-- Rev. Jerry Falwell

Dear Kitty,

Can you stand one more "how we met" story?

As I was knitting some socks today I thought of the story of how I met my current husband.   The story warmed my heart so much that I decided to share it with you and your readers.

Back in the 1980s (I am now 52), I ran a quaint little shop that sold leather bondage gear.  We offered some favors in the basement for some extra cash (no sex, just spankings and whatnot).  One day, I was putting on my leather gloves to prepare for some cold, tough love when I saw the finest ass ever created.  It belonged to Frank O'Toole, a man that liked tough love, leather and walks on the beach.

We hit it off right away.  We chatted quite a bit while I spanked the living daylights out of him and called him a naughty boy. We both had a deep love for Peter Scolari and, well, leather.  After I was done with him, I never saw him again.

That night, I came across a young man named Al O'Toole, Frank's distant cousin.   Small world, eh?  Anyhoo, he knocked me up and reluctantly married me.

-- Annette O'Toole

Dear Kitty,

Can you stand one more "how we met" story? I just had to write and tell you how I met my wonderful lover, Sparky.

I was in the park one day, minding my own business, when I tripped over some lady's prescription medication and tumbled into a small pond full of algae.  Well, it just so happens that a police algae-sniffing dog happened by (he was on his lunch break) and immediately began licking me.

Well, Kitty, I don't have to tell you that the rest was history.  It wasn't even sundown before I was doing Sparky up the ass, and today, we're celebrating our 11th anniversary.

-- Ned in Nebraska

Dear Kitty,

Can you stand one more "how we met" story?

One day, I had just finished eating my Fancy Feast when my owner roughly lifted me by the scruff of my neck, tossed me casually in an empty room, and said "Go for it, fella."

Only the room wasn't empty.  It contained a gorgeous long-haired Persian Feline-American of the finest quality and pedigree.  Fru-Fru was her name.  She spit in my face for approximately two hours.

Then, we got to humping, and as soon as I delivered my studly seed, she angrily kicked me off her, and hissed defiantly before slumping off.  I was then whisked away and neutered.

-- Cuddles in Colorado

Dear Kitty,

Can you stand one more "how we met" story?  If you can't, you can lick my asshole.

Anyway, one day I came across a fellow at a big dance for the fellas heading off to the Spanish-American War.  While waiting for someone to ask me to dance, I found a fat young man named Peter.  He was hanging out by the food table and eating to his heart's content.

We eventually hit it off, and we have been married for 36 glorious months.  Also, he doesn't just eat from the food table, if ya catch my drift.

-- Roberta Chaplin

Got a problem?   Write to kitty@tobyvision.com, and maybe the drunken one will respond to your letter in the next column!