EST. May 2000 (AD)


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DEAR MAGS/DAGS: As my wedding day approaches, the whole fete is topsy turvy! My maid of honor Gwen has Pityriasis  Rosea, which is going to cause nightmares for my photographer (and not the usual garden variety nuptial tribulations!) Also, I didn’t know a wedding would be so expensive! Look, I want my guests to have fun, but this is costing me a fortune!

Stressed Steffie   

MAGS: To those readers who are not “in-the-know”, fete is from the French and Latin. When combined, we call it Flatin, which is also what you call a person who has one Parisian and one Latino parent. Translated it means, “feet” or, “big fun orgy my downstairs neighbor invited me to where we tickle each other’s toes with feather dusters”. Topsy Turvy is the lingo the teens are speaking now, so it’s what’s known as textual. It’s kind of a new word, like blogging or turbulence. Topsy means topless and Turvy is when you go to second base in the backseat of a car while your cousin is in the front driving stick. I am happy to translate all this for you, because I know it is culturally important.

I am not clear why the maid of honor has to deal in Pityriasis  Rosea, when clearly that is a job for your florist. Also I don’t know if garden variety nuptial tribulations are seasonal, you might want to stick with something like a daisy. Ooh, dandelions are free and grow in the cracks between the sidewalks of an adult entertainment store I shop at! Those might do the trick. Also, I know for a fact they now sell flowers that squirt water! What a shocker! Even better, if your florist provides flowers that squirt water and your photographer uses a camera that squirts water! You don’t have to put water in them either, that’s just an old wives tale. I think this is because old wives are encouraged to abstain from drinking during plastic surgery, but I prefer booze in my squirting flowers! Instant wedding a go-go! Just add liquor and open mouths! 

DAGS: No one cares nor wants to think about what my co-columnist does with her open mouth or a squirting anything! I mean seriously, Mags, I’m eating! That’s what normal people do with their open mouths: eat and eat some more. And yell. At their husbands. And the private investigators they hire to tail their husbands every move. Those cameras that said private investigators use might as well squirt water, because the photographs they take are USELESS! WHERE IS MY PROOF, BRYCE? THAT IS WHY I HIRED YOU, ISN’T IT?!? WELL?!?

Look, if you think your stupid wedding is a disaster, imagine how the people forced to attend it are going to feel? Maybe in this day and age, people have more important things to spend their moolah on than your matrimonial mud pit. Nothing is certain, anymore. Will I keep my job? Will I have enough money to feed my cats? Will I have to eat what the cats eat? Why do my cats eat chicken salad? Okay, so my cats eat chicken salad, but do they have to eat ALL the chicken salad?

This is why I have zero sympathy for you, Stressed Stupid. Your guests are not unlike my cats. They will eat chicken or fish, whatever you provide. They may shed hair on your gown. They will not hesitate to hiss at you behind your back, and are not remotely impressed with the cheapo goldfish bowls you are using for centerpieces. Yet having them attend your party is better than being alone, so you let them walk all over you for nine lives and then some.

 DEAR MAGS/DAGS: My brother is a groomsman in my upcoming wedding. He refuses to walk with the bridesmaid I’ve paired him with, just because he “prefers blondes to redheads”. None of my bridesmaids are blonde! I don’t know any blondes! What am I supposed to do, hire blondes to walk down the aisle?

I am relatively new to kundalini yoga, but so far it is helping me cope. Can you recommend any other ways of relaxing before my big moment?

Mimi Needs a Mantra

MAGS: By “mantra” I assume you are using the Scandinavian word for “Man”. In that case, let me direct you to some discreet escort service sites. Your husband will never know, unless you get drunk and tell him, or someone who knows both of you blackmails you, or he knows your computer password. is a website for guys who want to meet and kiss ladies named Caroline or Cynthia, I guess that won’t work for you. Hmm…what about This is an escort site for people who want to burp other people, or maybe for people who want other people to burp them? I forget. Plus, I really don’t get the whole poodle thing.

If you want blondes to walk down the aisle, I know a few working girls. In fact, I know one of them from a Melanie Griffith impersonation contest. She told me she has an Adam’s apple, which is like a trophy they give out to important women who look like Melanie Griffith. Also, I heard someone say she is certifiable, which means legally allowed to live in our country. Fantastic!  

As far as “kundalini yoga”, you need to think about talking to a doctor, or maybe even a physician! Personally, I tried the kind they advertise on TV that I think helps people poop. The banana flavor is very creamy!

Try relaxing yourself before the big moment by doing a crossword puzzle on the toilet! It really helps! One time while I was relaxing before the big moment, my crossword answer was “Fiber”. I thought this was so funny, and I began to laugh! After that everything really loosened up, and I was able to cope and cope some more! Generally, I cope in the morning, but everyone is different, and this is all so normal!

DAGS: Wow, if you listen to Mags you might want to change your name from “Mimi Needs a Mantra” to “Mimi Needs a Plunger”! Ha! I am on fire today, not unlike your hemorrhoids. Look, do what you want! I am tired of advising you ingrates! Burp poodles, or Melanie Griffith, or whatever Mags is going on about. Eat my chicken salad, why don’t you! Oh, the cats already beat you to it? Make out with my husband, why don’t you! Oh, Mags already beat you to it?

Ever since I was a little girl I realistically considered (Note: I was never a dreamer) the possibility that I would one day grow larger and advise the moronic masses. People were always telling me I had a gift, and should be grateful. Did I listen? No. Because I didn’t CARE if I had a gift; so what if it was Christmas Day and there was a perfectly nice unwrapped present in my lap? There were other smallish girls with bigger gifts, better-seeming gifts!

I knew then what I know now: sometimes you have to do what you have to do, be it tell the truth to a bunch of sniveling, wedding-loving wenches or throw your cousin Gretchen’s brand new porcelain doll off of Grandpa Archibald’s roof. So let the porcelain fall where it may!

Mags is Maggie "Wild" Childes: Mags has never been married. She has however, dated married men, some prior to their nuptials. Thus, she knows a lot about the wedding planning process.

Dags is Dagmar Hewlett: Dags had her own wedding three years ago, but that's not going to prevent her from planning yours.

©2010 Christina Delia