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 Richard Simmons

Dear DA, Help me. My entire life I’ve always been myself, as seemingly bewildering and embarrassing as that is. Then I disappear under shady circumstances and people are concerned for all of two seconds, and that’s it. These people have their talons in me, and there’s nothing I can do. I’m literally being imprisoned and robbed from within my own home, and no one cares. Nothing. Crickets. Maybe if I was more popular, or a bigger star, or didn’t wear such creepy short shorts, more people would care about me. If I was a good looking white woman, society wouldn’t stand for this. But a creepy old man with a jew-fro is apparently fair game. This is just like the Gestapo all over again. Please, help me! Sincerely, Richard Simmons Dear Richard Simmons, I’m sorry, but this wallowing in self-pity is beneath you. And it’s completely unfounded. Never in human…
Read more

Share this post:

Divine Advice for Rob Manfred

Dear DA, If you’re watching from up there, I apologize. What can I say? This is a mess. A bizarre, unmitigated mess. Teams keep getting COVID, Yankees keep getting injured, and of course, the Mets continue to be the bane of my existence. Something is wrong with them. Players like Cespedes decide they aren’t going to play anymore and just wander off, like they’re volunteering at a soup kitchen, and the Mets are totally fine with it. Can you imagine a player doing that on the Yankees? Or even just a regular guy doing that at his job? Literally just wandering off one day, after you just paid him millions of dollars?  It’s like the Mets just don’t get it, that they’re a professional baseball team, and that there are certain standards. Then they go and get COVID right before playing the Yankees, our biggest cash cow. I swear I…
Read more

Share this post:

Divine Advice For Joe the Plumber

Dear DA, Hi guys, it’s me, Joe the Plumber. Remember me? Technically, I’m not a real plumber (damn socialists wanting licenses for everything), but I got Obama to admit he was a communist and got Trump into office, at least as far as I see it. Maybe it wasn’t exactly me, but it was guys like me. Simple, working-class guys who see a white guy in a suit with a hot wife and think “That there guy is a winner!” You’d think guys like me would hate 80’s type businessmen like Trump, but the movie Wall Street, written and directed by Oliver Stone, who’s a genius by the way, showed me what was what. Inside every 80’s businessman is a blue-collar guy just like me whose pappa got screwed by the system. And since you can’t beat the system, you join it, and then covertly beat it from within, and…
Read more

Share this post:

Divine Advice For Kamala Harris

Dear DA, Remember when I was a contender? I was actually polling well until the billionaires told me to can the progressive bullshit. So I started talking about banning Trump from Twitter and my numbers plummeted, but it looks like I’m about to luck my way into becoming VP anyway. It might actually be better this way, now that corporate America knows that I can be “reasonable.” The bar is so low at this point that Biden and I will be an improvement no matter what, but what worries me is that “returning to normalcy” just isn’t going to cut it. This is a strange time politically. Being a rich white man helps, but so does being a black woman, as long as there’s some sort of balance. As far as being capable or qualified, that barely matters at all. What’s most important at this point is what you don’t…
Read more

Share this post:

Divine Advice For Melania Trump 2

Dear DA, Lately, it seems like I can’t do anything right. I wear a jacket that says “I Really Don’t Care, Do You?” to a child detention center, and everyone assumes I don’t care about the kids. Of course I care about kids, even Tiffany! The jacket was obviously a message to the press, because when you don’t care about something, you wear a jacket with a giant message to them spray-painted on the back. This just proves how incompetent the lamestream media has become, which is the one thing my idiot husband might actually be right about. And now this business about the Rose Garden. I know it seems out of touch, but put yourself in my shoes. I’m basically imprisoned with this giant baby, I spend all day cleaning between his rolls of fat and changing his diapers and pretending I can stand the sight of him, and…
Read more

Share this post:

Divine Advice For Mike Trout

Dear DA, I’ve been blessed to be the second coming of Mickey Mantle, but cursed to be on the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim. Awful team, awful name, and honestly, everything except the weather stinks. Most of the strip clubs close at 1:30 am. I mean seriously, thanks a lot for that extra half hour. Whatever’s going on, I’m sure Disney has something to do with it, they’ve always been a bunch of sadistic punks. Anyway, playing in empty ballparks is surreal. At first, it was difficult to get used to this weird new feeling I had, like inner peace. After the first few innings, it hit me, and while I’m ashamed to admit it, I’m happier playing baseball without the fans. To put it bluntly, I hate them, and maybe humanity in general. What kind of loser pays good money to watch grown men play a ridiculous game? And…
Read more

Share this post:

Shopping List

I was 26 and had just finished my first novel, or technically, novella. It was a crazed, pointless story about a drunken airline pilot with no discernible plot or structure. My main point, or “meta” point, was that books are mostly filler. Was it vital to know that Gary’s shirt was wrinkled, or that there were always little white blotches of spittle at the corners of his mouth, when he does nothing of consequence and we never see him again?  A person’s size matters if they have to cram themselves into an airline seat. He or she had a name if they needed one. The smear of whitewash where some lazy painter had wiped off his roller was important if it helped you to recognize a building. Otherwise, it was just crap. Words to make a book heavy or large or long enough to justify its price. The more time…
Read more

Share this post:

Divine Advice For Timothy Harleth

Dear DA, Where to begin. I passed Dr. Anthony Fauci this morning sitting alone in a chair facing the corner, like a kid who was being punished. All that was missing was a dunce cap. According to Dr. Faucci, the President told him he was on a “time out” for getting too excited about COVID-19. According to Trump, no matter how many people are dying, that’s no reason to get “snippy,” and frankly, he’s getting tired of hearing about it. Every morning, it’s COVID-19 this and COVID-19 that. Obviously Dr. Faucci had never been to finishing school, otherwise he would have learned that it’s rude to keep talking about diseases all the time. I also passed Ivanka. She was sitting on an ottoman talking to a can of beans and looked terrified. The Trump boys were playing in their pillow fort as usual. They flip a coin to see who…
Read more

Share this post:

Divine Advice For Ronald McDonald

Dear DA, This shutdown has been rough for me. I literally have billions of burger patties and McNuggets that have been piling up in warehouses for months. Fortunately, most of our food never goes bad, but still, it’s been a logistical nightmare. Most of our regular customers look and feel better than they have in years, and they’re beginning to put two and two together. They still miss our food, but they don’t miss the flop sweat on the toilet or the heart palpitations. At this point, our food is pretty much out of their systems. They’re still addicted to soda, but no one comes to McDonald’s for the soda. I’m still evil just like all clowns, but even I have my limits. How do I get these people back, and do I even want to? And assuming I do want to change, what should I do? There aren’t many…
Read more

Share this post:

Horoscopes for July 2020

Cancer           Sure it’s fun to hang out with your cousin. He has an Xbox, he lets you drink his mom’s wine coolers, and he has the special edition Twilight box set with the pop-up Kristen Stewart. But do you ever wonder why your crotch is always so sore the next morning and you can barely remember a thing? On second thought, maybe don’t bother wondering and just stop hanging out with your cousin.      Leo I think it’s time we put an end to this farce. You’re on your third mortgage, pay two grand a month in alimony, and are lucky to have the dead-end, mid-management job you somehow managed to con your way into. Unless you win the lottery or get struck by a meteor, your life, for all practical purposes, is over.  Virgo Technically, it’s possible that you could quit drugs and turn your…
Read more

Share this post: