Dear Murray
I’m having a problem with foot odor. Whenever I get intimate with a girl, and take my shoes off, it kills the moment. It’s ruining my sex life. Please help!
-Fungied in Franklin Hills
Oh jesus. This reminds me of those Gold Bond powder commercials. You know the ones. GOLD BOND STOPS MALE ITCH. I knew this guy in college. I won’t call him a friend because, well, he disgusted and annoyed the fuck out of me. He would wear sandals with socks and you could fuckin smell nothing but feet within a 20 mile radius of this motherfucker. We were watching a movie in this little newsroom lounge and the fucker was eating Cheetos. Now, all people have the same issue when dealing with eating Cheetos. Some people prefer to suck the cheese powder off their fingertips. Myself, I like to wash my hands. What this motherfucker did, however, blows my mind to this very day. He held his fucking fingers up to his mouth like a toothbrush and began “brushing” his teeth with his cheese-encrusted hands, very rapidly. Fuck, ya know what? I haven’t been able to eat Cheetos since.
So quit being a disgusting motherfucker. Wash your shit. Take a daily bath, buy some new shoes AND SOCKS. Throw the Gold Bond on there, or the peppermint foot spray from the Body Shop works wonders. Buy it by the fucking GALLON.
Oh, and quit eating CHEETOS, Grant. We all know you don’t have a sex life, and it has nothing to do with the feet.
Now leave me the fuck alone.
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Dear Murray
Dear Murray a tasty, tasty bitch beloved and feared by hordes of basement-dwelling illiterati and their fierce antagonists, the Grammar Nazis. He single-handedly turned the webcam whorefest of Myspace into a lively commerce of ideas, including whether or not the TUBGIRL photo will ever be topped as a postmodern expression of the inexpressible. According to web historians, he has inspired more photoshop projects and syphilis jokes than Britney Spears (who he has been repeatedly linked romantically to). He is also rumoured to be the father of Anna Nicole Smith's baby, a disciple of Cliff Yablonski, and the second gunman on the grassy knoll. Although he could not be reached for comment, he reportedly resides in or near the tent cities along the LA River Basin, third right after the walrus sunning station.
He has vehemently denied all charges that he is any any way responsible for that rash your wife claims "is from the heat".
His primary function is doling out advice; the inspiration sprang from an endless and eventually dull repetition of fucktards failed to heed his words.
A secondary result is a dysfunctional family "round table" of people who contribute innumerable one-liners and personal experiences, rarely related in any way to the actual question.
It is estimated that tens of thousands of readers have "LOL'd" approximately 5,395,645,694,167,467,105 times, with the toll expected to rise.
He is immune to kryptonite, chlamydia, and brainwashing.
Wikipedia has banned PENCILTITS's entry, debating the relevance of his tasty bitchiness.