Divine Advice

Divine Advice For Louis C.K. 2

Dear DA, I’ve got to be 100% honest. The only lesson I’ve learned from my ordeal is to stick to prostitutes, or as I refer to them, the only real female adults. You ask them a question (can I masturbate in front of you?) and they give you a straight answer (for you, $200.00, because you’re fat and I’ve seen you on TV). What exactly did I do wrong? People say it’s because these women were subordinate to me, but I don’t buy it. If I had asked my Mexican landscaper if I could masturbate in front of him, would there have been all of this outrage? The answer is no, because Paco would have said yes. Watching me masturbate is easier than mowing my lawn, and he has to watch me masturbate while he mows my lawn anyway (I don’t believe in curtains). I know I said I understand…
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Divine Advice for Smokey the Bear

Dear DA, Fire is a mystery to everyone. Is it alive? Is it an element? Nobody knows. When the US Forest Service picked me, I told them I was skeptical about my ability to prevent forest fires or even interact with humans at all in a non-confrontational way. Humans always come into the forest with food, and to bears, they’re kind of walking food to begin with. Our first impulse is to open them like fortune cookies and find out what’s inside. Maybe there’s fire inside of them, which I’m supposed to prevent. It’s a big world out there, so I established a coalition of fire prevention bears. If one bear is good, more bears are better, right? Fozzie Bear was in charge of Australia, but I don’t know what happened to him. Judging from the news, I’d guess it was probably something fire-related. Even if he’s still alive (who…
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Divine Advice For Golden Birthday

Dear DA, Santa Anita Park might as well be a glue factory. Something like 40 of us have died there in the last two years. And now me and Truest Reward. In a way, death is our truest reward, or at least I thought it’d be. Am I in purgatory? There’s plenty of grass, but no apples or peanut butter or ass (I’m assuming I’ll get my balls back once I’m transported to heaven). You guys ever read Animal Farm? I feel like Boxer. You work hard your entire life and they run into the ground until you die. And somewhere in between, they cut your fucking balls off. They did it to me on my birthday. What kind of sick fucking joke is that? Naming me Golden Birthday and then cutting my damn balls off on my birthday? I thought I was going to get a bucket full of…
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Divine Advice For Felicity 2

Dear DA, That creeper Sean has followed me all the way to Star Wars. You remember Sean? He’s the fat, kind of gay one who pretended to be my “best friend,” then tried to rape me. Come to think of it, almost all of them tried to rape me, but he was the worst. Just a creepy, creepy fat guy. Way too fat for a chick like me and he should have known it from the start. Just the thought of him being anywhere near me—ugh. I can’t believe I used to tell him all my fantasies about Ben while letting him move my furniture, buy me coffee, do my homework, be a shoulder to cry on, lend me book money, carry my books, stand outside in the rain watching my dog while I went to the movies, donate his kidney to my dog, vacuum my apartment, scrub my toilet,…
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Divine Advice For George Lucas

Dear DA, A guy sells something for four billion dollars and it’s difficult to have much compassion for him even if he isn’t an asshole, let alone when he bemoans the reality of what he certainly must have seen coming. I sold Star Wars to a rabid, insatiable rodent, so what exactly did I expect? Did I honestly think that they’d follow my creative vision when they gave me four billion dollars specifically so they wouldn’t have to? Believe it or not, I did. That’s just the kind of narcissistic, egomaniac that I am. After all, if Star Wars is a religion (which it most certainly is), I’m the Holy Trinity. When they made The Passion of the Christ, did they shut you out of the creative process? Or just toss the entire bible out the window? Of course not. The Rise of Skywalker is credited to J.J. Abrams, but…
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Divine Advice For Gerrit Cole

Dear DA, Really this is more for Satan, but maybe Jesus can help me out, too. Who exactly is my boss? The NY Yankees just signed me for 9 years and $324 million. When I asked my former teammates who I should report to, they all told me to go to hell, so I’m assuming Satan is my boss, but I thought he worked for the Yankees, too. Wouldn’t that make him more of a coworker? And not to rub it in or anything, but I seem to remember the Yankees acquiring Satan for two 2nd round picks and a player to be named later, so why would I report to someone who isn’t fit to carry my jockstrap? (Again, no offense.) Maybe you’re the traveling secretary or something? I suppose it’s just another one of the bizarre ironies of a free market economy. I write poetry and take care…
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Divine Advice For Brad Pitt 2

Dear DA, I wrote in awhile back about my identical twin or clone or whatever he is, and he’s still driving me crazy. He doesn’t understand the world, so when he goes out, he basically makes a fool out of me. He went to a fancy restaurant last week and they let him in because he’s “Brad Pitt.” He started eating food out of the bus buckets, then sat down at an empty table and started eating the leftovers. They took him to a new table and he got angry because there wasn’t any food on it, so he started crying. Then he opened the door to the kitchen and started pissing into it until they grabbed him and brought him into the bathroom. He must have gotten confused in there because I had to go pick him up a few hours later. He wouldn’t come out of a stall,…
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Divine Advice For Ariana Grande

Dear DA, You ever see the episode of The Twilight Zone where the lady rubs cream on her face that makes her young and beautiful, but every time it wears off, she’s like super old and even uglier, so she has to keep using it like every four hours or something or she’ll turn into a deformed old troll if she stops? Yeah, that. And Disney also has me on these puberty-blocking hormones so I have the body of an 11-year old even though I’m really 103 (long story). So I’m stuck in this weird place where I have grey pubic hair and no boobs and I have to keep smearing this cream all over myself or I’ll turn into a ghost, and the cream is like $79 a bucket and all I have are these e-coins. I guess this is the price of pop perfection, and the deal I…
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Divine Advice For Robert Allen Iger

Dear Jesus and Satan, You’d think that owning everything would be great, but it’s actually extremely stressful. I like to revel in the failure of others just like everybody else, but now, there are no others. Take Terminator Dark Fate. It turns out that Disney somehow owns this piece of crap and it’s got me hella worried about the five Avatar movies we’re making. Jesus Christ, did we have to go ahead and make five of them? We’ve already spent something like a billion dollars and I have no idea what they’re even about. I think they’re about blue panthers or something? God this is bad. We own Star Wars, Marvel, Fox, and all this other crap, but are people even going to the movies anymore? I just don’t see millions of people shelling out $25 to go see Avatar 4. The merch is still solid (thank God) and Baby…
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Divine Advice For Key and Peele

Dear DA, Which one of us is which? I’m the short fat one, and I’m the tall skinny one. Let me explain. Or us explain. Both of us are writing this letter. We do everything together. We all always have, and maybe that’s a part of the problem. We grew up together, and it never really mattered who was who since we were always together anyway. But recently we started wondering about it, so we asked our friends, and none of them would give us a straight answer. Since we’re famous, we tried asking strangers, but none of them seemed to know for sure, either. Just tell us which one is the tall skinny one, or what his name is, or the name of the fat, shorter one. If you could tell us who both of us are, that’d be great, but as long as we know who one of…
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