Dear Moog: Would You Like that in a Cup or Sugar Cone?

Posted: December 28, 2009 in Dear Moog

Well…it’s been a LOOOOOOOONG time since my last advice letter (people are apparently getting smarter – take THAT Keannu Reeves!)

..but at long last it’s another time for an exciting episode of “Dear Moog”

Where you ask me for advice, and I give it to you in the same manner that I give out my sex.


Very, very badly.

I am not responsible for any stupid shit 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.

Today’s letter comes from Nasrudin.

Nasrudin writes:

“Dear Moog,

My poop is the color of neopolitan ice cream this morning. please advise.

Thank you,




Here goes:


Dear Nasrudin,





Nasroodin is broodin over John Gruden in his Fahrvergnügen.

Well..there was 30 seconds of my life I’ll never get back.

Totally worth it.


Did you know that if you mix the letters up in that name you can get:

1) ad in runs

I had this happen once when I ran out of toilet paper and had to use the Toys-R-Us flyer

2) da runs in

Where da runs in?

Da runs in the toilet with the Toys-R-Us flyer.

I thought we already went over that.

3) arid nuns

I find this redundant.


Then I decided to Google ‘Nasrudin’ and found this:

The fuck?

The fuck were we talking about?


Ice cream poopy.

According to Wikipedia:

“Nasrudin was a populist philosopher and wise man, remembered for his funny stories and anecdotes.”


You’re a philosopher and wise man…and you’re asking ME why your shit is coming out like a bag of Skittles?

I’m touched.

* points at crotch

The last time I had colored poop it was from some cereal and resulted in my wife fleeing the scene when I tried to discuss it with her.

Women be crazy.

Periods: Like a Ninja, because you never know when they’re going to strike or how long you’ll have to hold off having sex with them because they’re hanging around swinging nunchuks in the darkness and being quiet and sneaky and shit.


Colored poop.

I don’t know, dude.

Call your fucking doctor.

Moog out.

There you go! Yet another exciting episode!

I have a “Dear Moog” link on the right side of my page over there (or click the photo below), or you can email me here.

Want bad advice? Want shitty answers?

You’ve come to the right place.

Drop me a line.

Moog out.


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