Kitty Van Buren dons her Internet Advice Columnist hat and spews advice (updated 7-25-01):

Dear Readers:  Once again, it appears that several of you are enjoying 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?

One night, after playing a show in Sacramento, I noticed a large-breasted skanky young lady waiting near Arco Arena's exit door.  Being an important rock star, I realized that I was entitled to mind-blowing oral sex.  Without saying a word, she knelt down and showed me that she agreed with that sentiment.

We never looked back after that, Kitty.  We've now been together for two glorious minutes, and I wouldn't have traded a single second of it for the world.  Actually, she's done now and it's time for me to get back to the hotel, but I will cherish the good times we had for the rest of my life.
--Rockin' in Raleigh

Dear Kitty,

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

One lazy afternoon, I was doing my usual internet search for supple young boys when I discovered a hot little 13-year-old that seemed ripe for the pickin'.  He appeared to be just right; innocent yet with an experimental spirit.  We arranged to meet, and I hopped in my Camaro for the two-hour journey.  Before I knew it, I had arrived at last, and stepped out of my car.

That's when I saw him.  The anxious voice, the inquisitive eyes, the massive "Channel 6 News" truck.  I had never met an investigative reporter face-to-face, but I shall never forget the feeling.  Sure, he was a bit old for me, but his face revealed the intense desire to learn that I'd seen from so many underage boys in my past.

"Are you saying you're not 'Bama Joe'?" he said forcefully.  I'm not even sure what I answered, so paralyzed was I.  I do know that this life-altering meeting changed the way I live.  I've since moved, and am now getting raped up the ass on a fairly regular basis.  Sure, my life seems stable now, but it wasn't always this way.

I'll never forget that investigative reporter.
--"Bama Joe"

Dear Kitty,

I know you threatened to urinate on me the last time I sent in a "how we met" story, but I just KNOW you'll get a kick out of this one.

It was love at first sight.  The smell, the touch, the colors.  It was amazing.   The smell of mothballs was overpowering, which is why the sweet thing only cost five bucks.  The polyester against my skin and the flaired pants never failed to satisfy, which is why I wore that sexy leisure suit with matching flowered dress shirt all day long.
--Mike Brady

Dear Kitty,

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

It happened on a snowy January afternoon.  I was skiing that day, and I was about to head inside for some nice hot cocoa when I decided I would take one more run down the hill.  I figured "Why not?  You don't ski every day, dickweed!"   And besides, I was an aging man, and not sure how many more times I would get to do something as wild as this.

Well, on my way down the slopes, I met her.  Tree was her name.  Sure, her bark was worse than her bite (ha ha ha), but I like being bitten.  But be that as it may, my life was changed forever at that moment.  She was beautiful.  She whispered sweet nothings into my face; and well, I was too stunned to respond.  Rest assured, Kitty, I knew I would spend the rest of my life -- approximately a half-second -- with this glorious creation of nature.

I will never be the same.
--Sonny Bono

Dear Kitty,

I hope you can stand one more "how we met" story!

I just know you'll think this one's a hoot!  Back in the early '90s, before my operation, I was a headstrong penis-owner that couldn't be "boggled down" with a relationship.  Then I met Roger, a sensitive young man that found his way into my heart, and anus.

With a little coaxing from my sweetie, I eventually went through with the sex change and became a whole new me!  Six months later, Roger left me for some "real poontang" and moved in with an 18-year-old ho.  What a cocksucker.
--Semenless in Seattle

Dear Kitty,

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

I'm a poor carpenter in Nazareth, but one fine evening my sorry life perked up considerably when I met a beautiful maiden named Mary.  Actually, we were kinda forced together.  My parents called it a "divine plan" or some such nonsense.  I really wanted to get it going with that cute punk rocker chick I knew in college, but no-oooo.  Mom said she had the perfect girl for me.

Our first date basically consisted of her telling me that I'll never get any, but I'd still have to change diapers of the son we'll have.  As you can clearly see, it was magical from the get-go.  I'm so happy now that we've been together for years and I've gotten NO tail.  Heh heh.  I'm so thrilled.  I'm not clenching my teeth right now.  Not at all!

Yay.
--Incredibly Blue Balled in Nazareth

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