Letters to Ooga (including Hickolean prophecy) - 10/9/2003


Saxondawg - Posted on 07 March 2009

Printer-friendly versionPrinter-friendly versionSend to friendSend to friendDear Ooga,
My name is Henry and I am 5-years-old and I would like to play for the Dawgs when I get big and how can I get big?
HENRY OF SNELLVILLE

Dear Henry,
As a budding young dawgling, my child, thou must first gird up thy loins and overthrow thy wee boon companions on the playground. Craft thyself a seemly weapon; Ooga suggesteth thou embellish thy kickball with spikes and affix a chain of iron. Brandish it with manly gore-lust and feed thy Cub Scout mates the belching flame of thy wrath. But lo, little one, do not flay the comely little wenches. These ye must keep in trust for the prophet's eventual use. The prophet shall give thee counsel concerning wenchcraft when thou comest of age and sprouteth the first bristles of thy manly beard, usually at age 7.
HE WHO HUNKERS FORTH

Dear Ooga,
I am honey-blonde and thirtyish with a new love in my life. Elwood is an international women's fragrance magnate. After a whirlwind courtship we embarked hand in hand, heart in heart upon a life of domestic wedded bliss. After a dreamy honeymoon in Rio, O Ooga, we're setting up housekeeping in Elwood's family manor, Blandings of lower Lilburn. But alas! A problem of physical intimacy has troubled the bright beacon of our wedded delight. I am a former gymnast and

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