Author Archive: H. Seitz

H. Seitz is the author of the Sci-fi novella "Iron Manimal" and a contributing writer at The Skull Island Times.

Divine Advice for Derek Jeter

Hi guys, I’m technically a Catholic, but not a practicing one. I’ve committed the sin of using birth control thousands of times, including premarital sex, and I’m also superstitious. I’ve invoked the ghost of Babe Ruth several times, which is technically worshiping a false idol, and that alone is enough to get me crucified, but am I really such a bad guy? No disrespect intended, but I’m a mere mortal, and I came through in the clutch when it mattered the most, and you guys–well, to put it politely, haven’t. I’m more of an old-school player, but stats can be useful, and based on the stats, I wouldn’t trust either of you in a high-pressure situation. For supposedly all-powerful phantoms, you guys are kind of lousy and indifferent. I just don’t think you have the competitive drive to win a World Series, let alone save the world, and the numbers…
Read more

Share this post:

Divine Advice For Will Smith

Dear DA, I really don’t know what the big deal is. I’m just an ordinary guy who slaps his maids and butlers like everyone else, and how am I supposed to teach my children how to behave properly if I can’t even be a good example for them on TV? I know Chris Rock isn’t technically my butler, but you expect a certain standard from the maitre’d hotel, and he didn’t even bring me a wine list. And then he goes off and insults my bald, beautiful wife? So what if she looks like a 14-year-old boy? I wouldn’t have it any other way. At least I still won the championship of being an actor, I should have won years ago for Men in Black III and Bad Boys for Life. I told the producers we should have spelled it Bad Boys 4 Life, and they didn’t listen and I…
Read more

Share this post:

Divine Advice For Cap’n Crunch

Deary DA, I’ve been the captain of the S.S. Guppy since 1963, which is so long the years kind of blur together. I’ve seen war, plague, pirates, and monstrous ocean creatures only you could have conceived of. Still, after nearly 60 years of service, I get no respect. Yes, I only wear the bars of a commander, but that’s because I’ve been too busy for a fancy bit of stitch work. I should be an admiral by now goddammit! An Admiral! But make no mistake, everyone on my crew knows who’s boss. Insubordination is punished with the lash, and I will kill a man if he even hints at mutiny. My savagery is detested by some, but what you cereal munching fools have to realize is that the existential war for the American Empire is never over. I have sacrificed more than just blood, sweat, and tears. I have sacrificed…
Read more

Share this post:

Divine Advice for Matt Damon 9

Dear Divine Advice, Who the hell is this Jesse Plemons character? He keeps stealing roles from me, and even worse, people are mistaking him for me! I mean look at the guy, all bloated with his potato-shaped head, puffy cheeks, and disgusting beer gut. I do all of my own stunts (well, some of them) and that guy couldn’t jump over a fire hydrant. I just did a google search of the guy and my name and picture come up with his–people think we look alike. This is the worst day of my life. Katy Perry and Zooey whatsherface, I can see the resemblance. Except for the knockers, they’re basically the same person, and all hot women look the same to me because I’m progressive. I don’t see color or gender, only hotness. I’m so progressive I support fucking mannequins, because it’s more environmentally friendly than building sex robots. You…
Read more

Share this post:

Divine Advice for Matt Damon 12

Dear DA, I stepped on a newspaper some slob left on the sidewalk, whatever it was, it smelled like dogshit, and it made my dog Carlos bolt. I tried to chase him, but I slipped on the newspaper and ended up covered in dogshit. As I’m cleaning myself off, I see my ex with J-Lo and they both see me and I just want to die. I know I’m no J-Lo, but I try to keep it high and tight. Why do you think I did all those Bourne movies? Anyway, as any normal guy would do, I started hanging around the park. I wanted to catch that irresponsible asshole who let his dog dump all over the sidewalk. So I’m standing by the playground, and it’s like a pedophile in reverse. This kid starts staggering up to me, she looks just like me, same potato head and dead eyes,…
Read more

Share this post:

Divine Advice for Superman 3

Dear DA, I don’t like being sucked into politics, but lately, I’ve been getting heat from both sides. Some liberals hate me for my toxic masculinity, which I admit is a problem. I can’t just punch all of my problems into outer space. I mean I can, but I shouldn’t. On the other side, conservatives can’t stand that I’m bulletproof, but have somehow twisted my invulnerability into a reason they need even more guns. As a person of bulletproofness(?), and an increasingly jaded one, I couldn’t give two shits one way or the other. I’ve pretty much stopped saving people unless they’re extremely attractive, and even then, being Superman isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. One window washer I caught claimed that I touched him “inappropriately,” and somehow Disney is trying to sue me, too? When posing as a human, I work as a stringer for a newspaper (Pa…
Read more

Share this post:

Divine Advice for Shaq

Dear DA, I may not be the greatest basketball player of all time or even the best center, but when it comes to eating pancakes, I stand alone. Even when colleges were recruiting me, the one thing that impressed coaches more than my size and natural athleticism was my Shaqernatural ability to eat pancakes. You can google it. All of them agreed I was destined for greatness, and every single coach I ever ate breakfast with still talks about the insane amount of pancakes I can put away.(I mean amount, not number, because when I eat, food is measured by cubic kilo). I was feared on the court, but I was even more feared at the Homestyle Buffet. Near the end, when I was pushing 500 pounds, they could hear me coming from across the parking lot and knew it was over. Check it: every city with an NBA team,…
Read more

Share this post:

Divine Advice for Kyrie Irving

Dear DA, You know that show Bridezillas? Think of me as the bride. Sure I got the fancy wedding and everyone put up with my crazy bullshit, but was it perfect? Was it? These moments don’t come around often, so when they do, it’s got to be all about me. With me, KD, and James Harden, the Nets got a real shot at a chip. The only problem is that NY requires people to be vaccinated if they want to eat in strip clubs or go to enormous sports arenas, even superstar athletes like me. Anyone who knows me will tell you I’m not getting that fucking vaccine for anyone. Assuming the Nets keep me, I stand to lose $17 million, a shot at a championship, and the chance to infect players, strippers, coaches, physical trainers, medical staff, reporters, vendors, more strippers, janitors, and fans from all over the country,…
Read more

Share this post:

Divine Advice for Buzz Aldrin

Dear DA, I’m writing this letter on behalf of David Scott (Apollo 15), Charles Duke (Apollo 16), and Harrison Schmitt (Apollo 17). All of us have been on the moon and we’re all still alive thanks to moon radiation, but Dave, Charlie, and Harry are well aware that the young people today are more concerned with their Miley Cyrus and Pokemon–whatever the hell those words mean–than men who have actually set foot on the fucking moon. Before we go, we wanted to set a few things straight for that weaselly Elon Musk fellow. The guy sounds like he was squirted out of a moose pimple and some idiot named it. Maybe he would have made it as an astronaut if not for his caved-in chest and his rickets, but I doubt it. Back in my day, people had the sense to know that just because a feller was rich didn’t…
Read more

Share this post:

Divine Advice for Amanda Knox

Dear DA, There’s still a lot of controversy between who’s hotter, me or Casey Anthony? Without makeup, I win hands-down, and Casey Anthony has a strange giant forehead and lives in Florida, so that should automatically disqualify her from hotness, voting, or playing chess by default. The sun down there is murder on your skin, so she probably looks even worse than she used to. Like everyone else in their right mind, I think Casey did it. She looks nuts, with her wandering eyes and bulging cranium. I look colder and more calculating, but I’m also the kind of girl you’d take home to your parents. I speak properly, don’t dress like a tramp (cough-Casey Anthony-cough), and I’ve kept it high and tight, which is why I got a Netflix special. Meanwhile, Casey is out pretending to be a PI and probably searching for the “real killer” OJ style. How…
Read more

Share this post: