Dear Moog: I Want To Fondle Your McNuggets

Posted: April 13, 2009 in Dear Moog, sex, wtf

It’s another time for an exciting episode of “Dear Moog”

Where I’m seriously getting tired of you whiny little bitches.


Where you can count on sound advice!


Dodged a bullet there.

I am not responsible for any stupid sh*t you do to yourself or others as a result of taking any of my advice seriously. There, I think that covers it.

You’ve been warned.

First, let me say that the following letter is somewhat pornographic in nature.


Sorry. I like boobies.

But, it was a little TOO dirty…even for me.

Sometimes I make myself laugh.

Because of this, I’ve done the following:

1) Replaced all the dirty words and phrases with McDonald’s terms

2) Masturbated after I read it

Not in that particular order.


Exactly in that order.

I REALLY like McDonald’s.

The words/phrases I’ve replaced in the letter are in red bold italics. Just so you know.

I had to say that because some of you are fucking stupid.

You know who you are.


Today’s letter comes from Desperate Nympho.”

Here’s the retouched letter that Desperate Nympho wrote:

Dear Moog,

Love your Mental Poo blog, keeps me laughing. And cringing. But anyway.

My problem is… I think I like having Quarter Pounders jammed constantly in my Filet-O-Fish and my boyfriend can’t handle it.

I’m addicted to having Super-Sized fries stuffed into my Egg McMuffin and I love to suck on triple thick vanilla milkshakes.


Oh and I want a Happy Meal with a woman as well.

How do I handle this and how will I be satisfied?


Desperate Nympho


* cricket

* cricket

Woops. Sorry.



Back to the reply.

I first emailed ‘Desperate Nympho’ back immediately.

Not JUST to say, “how you doin’?”

…but because of this:


It was from someone named “Thomas.”

What. The. Fuck.

I just beat off.

Am I gay? Am I gay again?

I mean…um…‘now.’ Am I gay now?

I don’t look good in pastels!!!

(that picture never gets old)

After receiving confirmation that this was, indeed, a woman NOT named ‘Thomas’

(You may get me to stop trying on feather boas immediately…but am TOTALLY keeping these pumps)

..I felt okay to continue masturbating.

I mean..‘answering the letter.’


Dear Nympho,

It sounds to me that if your boyfriend can’t keep up with your fast food binging, then you should probably look at eating at some other restaurant.

Did I mention that I used to cook?

Sorry. Sorry.

(I used to cook. Call me.)

Listen, any man wants two things:

1) A woman who constantly wants to suck on his milkshake

2) The possibility that she’ll share your milkshake with her hot friend, or – really – any other broad.

That’s right. Two straws at a time.

Don’t worry, Thomas…there a plenty of guys out there who can and will deal with the constant fondling of their Big Mac.

You just have to find him.


So, apparently aside from your friggin’ boyfriend, I think that pretty much covers the rest of us.

If your boyfriend can’t handle that, then I’m sorry to tell you that there’s a distinct possibility that he plays for the other team.

That’s right.


He would rather toss another guy’s McSalad than partake in your Hot Apple Pie.

They disgrace us all.

Special sauce, anyone?

I’ve reread this letter and am working up a batch right now.

Ronald McDonald…you’re a dirty little whore.

Perhaps I’ve said too much.

There you go! Yet another exciting episode!

I have a “Dear Moog” link on the top right of my page, or you can email me here.

Want bad advice? Want sh*tty answers?

You’ve come to the right place.

Drop me a line.

Moog out.

  1. MommaKiss says:

    Pretty sure I'm working up a Dear Moog Letter. Can't wait. Hope it doesn't go to your Spam account.

  2. Zoe Right says:

    Nothing wrong with a pippin fresh bowl of vanilla puddin'

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