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Letter America: Dear Doctor Guy Walksintoabar

June 17, 2013, 1:00 am
By Robert Wilder

Dear Doctor Guy,

My friend recently stopped taking my calls because I’m dating her ex-boyfriend, but they broke up like over two years ago. I don’t know what to do.—Helpless Hottie

Dear Helpless Hottie,

A rabbi, a priest, and a Lutheran minister walk into a bar. The bartender looks up and says, "Is this some kind of joke?"

 

Dear Doctor Guy,

Maybe you can help me. I have two tenants who won’t put out the garbage on Monday. It’s stated clearly in the lease that they are required to do so every week without fail. Should I start eviction proceedings? I warned them three times. Thanks—Lost Landord

Dear Lost Landlord,

A screwdriver walks into a bar. The bartender says, "Hey, we have a drink named after you!"

The screwdriver responds, "You have a drink named Steve?"

 

Dear Doctor Guy,

I think my son may be sending naked pictures of his genitals on something called “Snapchat.” Have you heard of it? He won’t let me see the phone. What should I do?—Mopey Mom

Dear Mopey Mom,

A horse walks into a bar.
Bartender says, "So. Why the long face?"

Horse says, “I have cancer.”

 

Dear Doctor Guy,

I recently saw a gift I gave my mother-in-law in a local thrift store. It was engraved. Should I confront her about it? I’m pretty angry—Snarky Son-in-Law

Dear Snarky Son-in-Law,

Thomas Edison walks into a bar and orders a beer.
The bartender says, "Okay, I'll serve you a beer, just don't get any ideas."


Dear Doctor Guy,

I’ve been dating this lady for three years now. I think I’m ready to propose but I’m not sure she’ll accept. Is there any way to tell without asking? I want it to be a surprise but I don’t want the shock of my life. Advice?—Bashful Bridegroom

Dear Bashful Bridegroom,

A jumper cable walks into a bar. The barman says, "I'll serve you, but don't start anything."

 

Dear Doctor Guy,

This is pretty delicate. My brother lives nearby so he comes to visit my husband and me often. My brother has IBS and passes loads of gas. I mean loads. My husband is sick of it. Can I tell my brother not to come by?—Sullen Sister

Dear Sullen Sister,

A man walks into a bar with a slab of asphalt under his arm and says:  "A beer, please, and one for the road."

 

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