Being a 21st century tween/teen/Ween (Dean or Gene) is hard work. Between mom and dad, the kids at school, the kids on Facebook and Twitter, and the 47-year-old guy who keeps messaging you on MySpace, it's hard to know who to believe. Thankfully, these poor confused souls now have somewhere to turn: Advicenators! Here, sheltered beneath the warm blanket of anonymity, our troubled youth are free to ask whatever's on their mind.
When those kids at school hear the name Tiny Tot, they're gonna know they're in the presence of the coolest motherfucker around.
Dearest Granddaughter, thank you for your letter telling me about you getting fucked in the butt. FUCK YOU, GRANDPA
Comic misunderstandings result when you insist on spelling out "period" instead of using the punctuation mark.
Depends. Is it from a dog?
Don't expect me to bust out a story about a positive gym experience. My sole purpose is to tell you which hellish gyms to stay away from. My head is a lump of dough. It is comprised of water, yeast, and flour.
Classic pick up lines for the sleazebag who tends to overthink things.
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