Posts Tagged ‘Tell The Tiger


Tell The Tiger (Episode 11)

It’s time.

People on the streets are dying. Mothers. Killing their children. Children. Murdering on another on the steps of churches. Human / elephant pornography. Justin Bieber.



The world has indeed fallen apart, the very fabric of society has come undone and no. It’s not because of wide-spread government corruption. It’s not because of poor school systems or the mass media rotting the minds of our youth.

It’s because everyone’s emails that they’ve been sending in the thousands to have gone unanswered for far too long.

So long in fact that people have clean forgotten that this amazing service to mankind even exists anymore and for that all I can say is I fucked up guys. And I’m sorry.



But starting today, I want you all to know that Tell The Tiger is back up and running so please, please, don’t suffer in silence. Send all your embarrassing secrets and sexual failings in life to your buddy ol’ pal SlickTiger and I’ll sort that shit out.

I’ll help you. Because making people’s lives better is what Tigers do best. And mauling. Making people’s live better and / or mauling their faces off.

So here is this week’s lucky recipient of my Tiger love and wisdom.

Let the healing begin.


Nice To Meet You,
My name is Miss Monica guei, As I whisper my prayer tonight and went into search for a nice friend and I came across your contact,at( My mind and my heart told me to contact you for friendship, A friend who truly understand his or her friend and share their feelings together. please kindly accept my request, I believe that distance or age can never be a barrier but let’s love connect us because love is a bridge that connected far distance to be close to each other, I will send my pictures to you immediately i receive your reply at my email address
yours In Love,

Huh. Not really the kind of Tell The Tiger mail I’m used to, but yeah. We can work with this…

First off Miss Monica, let me just say that judging from your email you clearly have a number of severe mental issues that I think you need to sort out as soon as possible or you’ll probably end up married to an alcoholic douchebag who abuses you physically and emotionally because, well, you are retarded.



Where did you get my email address from? What the fuck is And what kind of surname is ‘guei’? What were your forefathers thinking?! Let’s line up every vowel in the alphabet and turn it into a surname?

Also, what in God’s name did the English language ever do to you to make you want to butcher the living shit out of it so badly? “Went into search”? “A friend who truly understand his or her friend”? “Let’s love connect us because love is a bridge that connected far distance to be close to each other”? What the fuck does that even mean?!

I’m not sure you understand the dynamics of Tell The Tiger at all, but it’s very simple – you write in with an embarrassing problem under a cleverly thought out pseudonym and I give you the worst possible advice on how to conquer said problem so that me and my internet buddies can have a good laugh at your expense and high-five each other later in the bar because your life is shittier than ours.



Come back when you have something juicy to share, like how your boyfriend thinks it would be fun to try anal fisting but you’re not keen on wearing a butt-plug for the rest of your life or how you’re in love with your step sister or how you fantasise about lathering your entire body in marmalade and having a threesome with a priest and the TV repair guy.

And with those wise words, I leave you in the capable hands of my panel of expert Tell The Tigerers. That is, if they still even exist…

Later masturbators.



Tell The Tiger (Episode 10)

It’s not every day that I get juicy, sex-related mails in from the confused masses that write to Tell The Tiger, desperately seeking my advice on how to make their lives better.

Sometimes people write in with perfectly ordinary, everyday problems that I do eventually get around to answering when all the juicy sexy ones dry up. It’s not that I’m prejudiced or anything, like a father with countless mentally unhinged children, I love all the mails that are sent into TTT equally.



It’s just that some (like the guy whose girlfriend wanted him to pee on her in bed) stir a lot more shit than others and stirring shit is what Them’s Fightin’ Words is all about. Stirring shit or shooting the shit. Anything involving shit really.

So check, check, check it out yo, here’s this week’s reciprocate of my malevolent wisdom:


Hey man, you have to help me with this one.

I read this chick’s blog every now and again and it’s funny as hell. Except, I don’t like it when she reviews stuff. How do I tell her the reviews make me all melancholy and to keep the other stuff flowing more often? I know she’s going to take it the wrong way because she’s is mad as a bat, so I want to put it to her subtly, in a way that’s not going to get her panties into a knot and come after me with a cleaver or reveal my email address to all her readers or something like that?

unfunny guy


Hmm… I don’t mean to get all paranoid here, and maybe it’s just the crack talking, but this isn’t some kind of veiled, clever-word-gamey attempt at suggesting I should write less reviews is it?



I mean, let’s examine the facts here:

  • Fact no.1 Blog is funny as hell
  • Fact no.2 “She” reviews stuff
  • Fact no.3 “She” is mad as a bat
  • Fact no.4 unfunny guy fears some kind of drastic retribution for getting on “her” bad side…

I’d say it’s a pretty close fit EXCEPT my reviews don’t make people melancholy, they just piss people off. Checkout Jason’s comment on my Pearl Jam review, or Raymond’s comment on my Deftones review. Those guys are anything but melancholy, that’s fer damn sure.

Thing you have to realise about bloggers is that we’re stuck quite far up their own arses. Take me for instance, I’m at least 2/3rds of the way up there, which is probably just a little higher than the average.

As such, we don’t take kindly to criticism of any shape or form because God forbid anyone should disagree with what we think, say or feel about basically anything.

Bottom line, she won’t write less reviews just because you suggested it. BUT if you can provide constructive criticism about how she can improve her reviews, then you’re a lot less likely to come home after a stressful day of work and find she’s boiled your pet rabbit.



Failing that, just go in there guns blazin’. Sometimes bloggers need to get knocked off their high horses, in the long run you’re probably doing her a favour – just fake your email address 😉

That’s all the time we have for this week folks, but do keep your emails comin’ to Don’t suffer in silence. I’m here for you.

Have a killer weekend 😉



Tell The Tiger (Episode 9)

Picking each week’s Tell The Tiger mail is like shoving your hand into a tank of Piranhas to rescue a kitten. You gotta be quick or that poor sucker’s going to be a little kitty skeleton in about 5 seconds.



Of course, there are always some cats that just deserve to be left in the tank, which brings me neatly to this week’s mail.


S’up ST,

So I’m lank into this chick, but she’s got a kid. Is it wrong to buy it toys and stuff and get it to like me so that she digs me? I don’t see a problem, but my friends think it’s wrong.

Shot bud!


Ok, Fuzz, all I can say here ‘bud’ is hell yeah! Buy that little fucker toys dude! Load bakkies FULL of shit from Toys R Us, back it up into her driveway, get a shovel and start off loading!



In fact, why don’t you take it a step further? Take the kid to the movies a couple of times, go ride bikes together, buy him ice creams on hot summer days, read him bedtime stories and tuck him in at night, then go bang his mom stukkend and when she starts getting clingy, dump the bitch.

Wow, is it lunch already? That’s all the time we have this week folks. If anyone else has any advice for this fine, upstanding young man, by all means let rip, you could be saving some poor child the psychological scarring of having this douche as a stepdad.

Have a killer weekend 😉



Tell The Tiger (Episode 8)

Um, yeah.

Unsurprisingly, after the abortion of a reply that was my last ‘Tell The Tiger’, the ol’ gmail address ( has been a little quiet.

Look, in my defence I wrote that last one after participating in a ‘Mass Streak’ right by the Green Point stadium with a bunch of total strangers, which I was understandably nervous about being a part of because a) it was fucking cold and b) the last time I streaked in public was, well, never.



So I might have been a little under the influence, christ, I’m only human.

Anyway, you’ll be pleased to know that this week I’m sober as a judge and ready to make one lucky reader’s life better in every single, imaginable way. This one’s a bit of a longie, but totally worth the read because it’s about DAGGA!

In 3…



Hey ST,

After reading yourpost you wrote awhile ago about a ‘friend’ of yours who made his own mescaline and tripped out for 18 hours or something and just the general tone of your blog, I thought maybe you could help me with this problem I’ve having with my GF about the wacky baccy.

IVe been a huge fan of Mary Jane for aobut five or six years now, since I was in matric at highschool and up until recently, I’ve smoked everyday. I don’t think of it as a big deal really, other people come home and drink half a bottle of wine at night, but no one judges them. I just like smoking a joint after work, is that so bad? It helps me relax and destress after a long day. It’s not like I’m sneaking off in my lunch break and hitting bongs in my car or anything, I did that once and got so paranoid back in the office I had to fake a really bad headache and go home, not cool.

But anyway, my new girlfriend has never touched drugs of any shape, size or form in her entire life and all her friends are exactly the same. Personally, I didn’t think people like that actually existed anymore, but maybe that’s just me. So anyway, she kinda made me promise not so smoke anymore when we got together and I thought why not? She’s hot, I can do this!

In total, I think I lasted about a month. Life just became really boring. Is this what it’s like to walk around normal all the time? Fuck! How do people handle this! Then we went to a good mate’s party and there was a bong going around, so I took a hit when she wasn’t lookingand I’ve been smoking everyday since.

The GF hasbust me twice and both times weve had huge fights about it. Thing is though, the rest of the time I’ve gotten away with it just fine, which totally fucks up her argument of ‘Weed makes you a different person’ but how do I tell her that? How do I make her see that what i do is totally harmless and I have it totally under control?

Basically, how do I get back to smoking a joint after work everyday and on weekends without completely freaking her out?



Ahh yes. The age-old conundrum of changing who you are to better suit your woman’s whims. We’ve all been there, but all I can say is J-dogg, my man, you fucked this one up royally right from day one.

“She kinda made me promise not so smoke anymore when we got together”? What the hell does that mean? How does a person “kinda” make you promise something?

“Umm J-dogg, please could you not smoke weed anymore, but if you want to that’s ok too,” is that what she said to you homeboy? Huh? Sounds like a buncha jibba-jabba jive talk to me shorty and I ain’t havin’ none ‘o that!

Sorry, I’ve been watching a lot of The Wire recently… um, interspliced with reruns of the A-Team…



Your HUGE fuck-up here is you set the wrong expectations at the beginning of your relationship – schoolboy error my man, but forgivable because she is hot. Men often say and do fucktarded things because of hot chicks, I think I read somewhere that it’s in our DNA or something.

I guess in your defence, maybe you honestly thought you could kick the mahanga-janga and figured it was worth a shot, fair enough. But never smoking again means NEVER. SMOKING. AGAIN. Not when you’re bored, not when you’re pulling a sickie at work, not when you buy your next X-Box game and kick back for an intense 10-hour gaming marathon, and sure as fuck not when you’re next hanging out with your buddies and one of them whips out a bucket and says, “Hey, let’s smoke three of these, take a hit of acid and go watch ‘Dawn Of The Dead’”.



Actually, as a general principle no one should do that. Hiding under a cinema seat, mumbling to no one and trying to chew your fingers off is no way to spend a Saturday morning. Or so I’m told…

If you really love this girl and want to make something out of what you have together, try and see if you can work out some kind of compromise like limiting your smoking to one day a week, I think that’s reasonable.

But then you gotta stick by that. Fuck up once, she’ll forgive you. Fuck up twice, things are gonna get rocky. Fuck up three times and it’s toast. If she takes you back after that, things will never be the same and like the little girl in the opening scene of Dawn Of The Dead your love will become a zombie.

Not dead, not alive, just flopping around uselessly, hungry for braaaiiiinnnssss.

That’s my take on things my man, but I’m more than happy to open the floor to my panel of trusted experts, many of whom I’m sure have had hands-on experience with this ‘wacky baccy’ you speak of.

Me, I tried the stuff at a party once, but I never inhaled 😉



Tell The Tiger (Episode 6)

It’s been awhile since I last delved into the inbox and made a lucky reader’s life perfect in every way, my apologies for that, but I’ve been focussing most of my energies on making on own life liveable over the last week, and I’m happy to report things are back on track.

Opening the inbox is kinda like swiping a security card at the local loony bin and stepping into a room full of slobbering degenerates, walking in endless circles and staring with glazed eyes at the TV-in-a-cage which only ever shows lawn bowls on mute.



God knows, I’ve missed you guys.

This week’s mail (which was sent to is beautiful in its simplicity, so without any more verbal circle-jerking, let’s jump in there shall we?

Hey SLicktiger,

im still in highschool but I read your site a lot, its awesome, where do you find the pictures, they’re funny dude!

anyway, my problem is a lot of my friends are hooking up and have girfriends, but I haven’t as of yet because I cant approach girls without sounding liek a fuckin retard.

have you got any pickup lines youve used that have ever worked or are pickup lines bullshit?



Holy fuck, children read this blog?! Can’t I get arrested for that? For Chrissake sake don’t tell your friends about this site!

Oh and thanks for noticing the pretty pictures JP. Finding them isn’t easy. You gotta know a guy who knows a guy, then you gotta meet that guy in a dark back alley behind a Chinese diner with an envelope of cold hard cash, unsealed, and the rest well… I could tell you but about a week later you’d mysteriously disappear and all your family would ever see of you would be the little cotton wool-wrapped bits they’d get sent in envelopes.

As for your problem, my advice to you is definitely suicide. There’s a good chance you sound ‘liek a fuckin retard’ because you are one. Seriously JP, ‘girfriends’? What the fuck is a ‘girfriend’?



Proof-read your work son, this is a site for GROWN-UPS, where we discuss GROWN-UP stuff in a GROWN-UP manner. I’ll have none of that ghetto spelling here young man!

Lucky for you though I was also 13 once and more than willing to crawl over my own dead mother to get laid. Um… wait, that didn’t come out right…

To answer your question: no, pickup lines are not bullshit, you just gotta know the right ones to use and practise them in front of the mirror until your delivery is perfect in every way. Also, it helps to start with the ugly or fat girls in the group to get your confidence up and then move up the ladder to the belters.

Also, alcohol helps. But I didn’t tell you that.

Here are my top 10 pick-up lines of all time, use them wisely:

1. Was your dad retarded? Because you’re special.
2. Christ you’re so hot I’d suck your farts like a BONG HIT!
3. (Looking around the room) Did you invite all these people? They’re shit. Tell them to go home so we can bang on the bar counter.
4. Man, I see a cute girlie like you and all I wanna do is tickle your belly button… from the inside…
5. Your wig is beautiful (tug tug) what glue do you use?
6. That’s such a nice top, my niece has one just like it… she has down syndrome…
7. (Standing waiting for a drink at the bar) Fuck me, whose dick do you have to suck to get a drink around here? Is it yours?
8. I’d offer to buy you a drink but by the look of it you’ve had plenty already.
9. You: I’m sorry, you can’t smoke inside here. Her: I’m not smoking. You (winking and pointing your finger-gun): Yes you are.

And my personal favourite:

10. Did it hurt? When you fell from heaven? Cause by the look of it you landed on your FACE.

I hope these help JP, if not I’m sure the dirty basterds who read this blog have plenty more where these came from.

Anyone out there care to impart some knowledge that might help this wayward young ghetto-speller?

Site’s all yours 😉



Tell The Tiger (Episode 4)

This week’s Tell The Tiger marks a whole new era in this little project of mine because, I’m proud to say, after receiving a whole slew of emails from guys, I FINALLY received one from the fairer sex!

Fuck! It was awesome, I nearly fell off my goddamn chair. It’s like when the girl from next door somehow figures out the secret codeword to get into the boy’s tree house where she then proceeds to skin you and your mates for all your pocket money in exchange for up a peak up her skirt.

What?! Like you wouldn’t have. To this day, Minnie Mouse never looked so goddamn adorable…



Where was I… oh ya, a GIRL wrote in this week and so I’d like us all to give her a warm, Tell The Tiger therapy group welcome.

Coffee’s free, but I see someone ate all the doughnuts. Nice guys. Very classy.

Right, so let’s get to it. Here’s what she sent:

Hi Slick,

I’m worried my boyfriend of nine months is cheating on me. We live together and I intercepted a message on his phone last week that said, ‘I want you so badly right now’ that came from a number I didn’t recognise. He didn’t seem bothered by it at all, and said it was just a completely random sms that went to the wrong number, but he’s been acting wierd lately and doesn’t have the appetite for sex that he used to. The thought of him with someone else makes me sick, but the thought of losing him is worse.

I read all his cell phone messages last week, but didn’t find any others from that number, he walked in before I could read his sent items though. He says he’s stressed from work and the long hours and that’s why he doesn’t want sex and that things will go back to normal once he’s done with the big project he’s working on.

Am I overreacting? I want to trust him, but that sms really freaked me out.

Confused !

Ok, Confused (I’m just gonna call you ‘Conny’ if that’s ok?).

Conny. To be quite frank with you, my tigey-sense (yes, I just did that) tells me there’s another side to this story that you’re not telling. You ‘intercepted’ a message on his cell phone? What are you, a GESTAPO SPY?



Never read a man’s cell phone messages or email inbox unless it is with his express permission. Did it make you feel good, finding that message? Did it feel good to snoop around behind your boyfriend’s back and read his inbox? Sure, maybe if you were a GESTAPO SPY it would have made you feel good, but I’m betting you’re just a regular human and it made you feel like crap.

As for the message itself, I dunno, it does seem a little peculiar. The only messages I’ve ever gotten that went to the wrong number have been ‘Please call me’s from people with names like Jabusizwe, Promise, and a guy I let sleep on our couch once for a few weeks because (according to his sign board at the traffic lights) the police arrested his elephant for smoking.

BUT it is entirely within the realm of possibility that someone just sent him the wrong message. Possible. Not probable. But possible.

The sex thing could definitely be work-related. When a man’s tired, he’s less likely to initiate sex and a lot of women don’t have the confidence to fire things up themselves because, let’s face it, men are usually horny bastards who need no encouragement.



Try initiate things if you haven’t already, if this still doesn’t work, at least give him the benefit of the doubt until whatever this ‘big project’ he’s working on is over. If things don’t spice up after that, watch for the following tell-tale signs he’s cheating:


  • He smells like woman’s perfume, and not your perfume (though, in a way that would be more fucked up) someone ELSES perfume
  • He has fresh condoms in his wallet / glove box / dinner jacket he went out in for a company function only to come back at 4 in the morning smelling like VAGINA
  • There are hairs in your bed, long ones, that aren’t yours
  • There is a woman in your bed, shedding that hair while she rides your boyfriend like a merry-go-round pony, that isn’t you


In all seriousness though, there is only ever one rational answer to the question ‘Am I overreacting?’ when asked by a woman, and that answer is ‘yes’.

Confront him with your fears if this weirdness persists, you owe him that much. Otherwise let that sms go and always remember, if he thinks he’s found someone who is better than you, cut that stupid asshole out of your life and move on because clearly he doesn’t know a good thing when he finds it 😉

Hope this helps!



Remember, if you have difficulties with life in any way, size, shape or form, you too can Tell The Tiger by simply mailing him on and he will do his level best to address your troubles or your money back!


Tell The Tiger (episode 3)

Wow, this week’s been too crazy guys, too fucking crazy so I chose a nice and short problem to NAIL rather than some long, drawn out, deeply psychologically troubled mail to deal with gently… tenderly… lovingly…



This week’s problem comes from a guy who likes to call himself “Jeanunderpantman”. Um… okaayyy.

Howzit Slick,

I’ve gotthis major problem where I prefer jerking off to havign actual sex with my girlfriend, its just feels tighter and better. Do you think if she lets me try anal it weill be better? How can I convince her to try it?


Jeanunderpantman (I’ll just call you JP), lemme just say congratulations. Actually managing to start your computer, READ this site, REPLY to Tell The Tiger with an actual email (though shockingly spelled) and SEND it without incident couldn’t have been easy.

Pat yourself on the back. You have done well.

As for your problem, I have a few solutions:

1) Send us a pic of your gf. There is a good chance that you prefer fucking your hand because SHE’S UGLY AS SIN. If she is UGLY AS SIN, riding the Hershey Highway might temporarily make sex with her better, but in the long run you’re probably going to have to trade her in for a better looking ho, yo.



2) If she isn’t a total GROT OTTER as it were, the problem might be that her lady garden is a little loose. Has she had kids? How many? Be honest with me here dude, I can’t help you if you aren’t straight with me. Of course, the other alternative is that your cheloger is too small. Probably kill yourself if this is the problem. No one likes a man packing a silk worm.

3) You could be a cock smoker. Test this out by turning off ‘Safe Search’ in Google and typing ‘ripped gym boys’. I made that mistake once. I’m blind now. You might really enjoy it though, in which case you should probably swap your lady for a lady-boy. I hear Thailand specialises in them.



Hope that helps JP, let us know how everything pans out for ya buddy.

That’s all for this weeks Tell The Tiger, peace out party people and have a killer weekend!



Remember, if you have difficulties with life in any way, size, shape or form, you too can Tell The Tiger by simply mailing him on and he will do his level best to address your troubles or your money back!


Tell The Tiger (Episode 2)

I love meeting people who tell you how ‘crazy’ they are. ‘I’m crazy dude!’ they all say, ‘I’m the craziest fucker you’ll ever MEET!’ which can be loosely translated as, ‘Am a pretty average guy, really nothing that special about me or my life. Thanks for listening.’

Truth is, the really crazy fuckers out there, or the people who have crazy shit going down in their lives keep that shit on the down lizzo, which is why I started Tell The Tiger, because I feel an affinity for these people and honestly want to help them.



Also the shit they send through makes my life plain as dry toast in comparison 😉

Take this email I got on Tuesday for example:


Hi Tellthetiger,

Im not sure why im sending you this when I havent even told my friends about it so please dont mention my name anywhere, but ive been dating this girl for about four months now, shes the best looking girl Ive ever dated (shes done some modelling for magazines etc), perfect and also an amazing personality, my dream girl until a few weeks back we were taking a shower together and she asked me the most fucked up thing, to pee on her in the shower!

I laughed and thought she was joking (she’s got a bit of a crazy sense of humour) and tried to ignor what she was asking me, but she kept asking, saying it would be ‘naughty’ and it didn’t matter anyway because we were in the shower and why didnt I just try it?

So I did it and she loved it, it was bizarre. We both kind of laughed about it and I didn’t really think anything of it, but then she asked me to do it again, twice in the next week or so, she said it really turned her on, but the most fucked up thing is we came back from a night out last week and she asked me to do it again, this time when we were in bed together!

My friends warned me that she was a little ‘weird’ but seriously, yellow fountains? What the hell, I don’t know what to do! I refused to do it and she immediately got really embarrassed and it was really awkward and she left and we haven’t slept together since because I don’t know if shes going to ask me again, what if she breaks up with me because I wont do it? I love this girl, what should I do?


Peed Off

Ok, first off, I think the preferred term for this kind of behaviour is ‘golden shower’ not ‘yellow fountain’ so yeah, that might turn up more results in Google searches should you want to seek professional help, which I would definitely recommend if this advice gets you nowhere.



There is no easy way of diffusing a situation like this. It’s not normal behaviour for your girlfriend to want you to pee on her and it’s highly likely that the need she’s feeling to submit herself to acts of degradation like that was caused by some kind of trauma suffered at a young age.

If what she’s making you do is freaking you out too much you need to tell her that and explain that while you love her, what she’s asking you to do doesn’t feel right and you would rather not do it. If the issue comes up again, try to figure out what it is about golden showers that turns her on so much and try to get her to open up about previous boyfriends and if she’s tried this on them and how they reacted and in that way try to drill down to what the root cause of this is.

Of course, there is a chance that she just likes it because it feels ‘naughty’ but there are a million other ways to practise naughtiness in the bedroom that don’t involved relieving your bladder on your loved one, maybe try some of those options instead.

Any way you look at it, there’s no way you’re ever going to be able to just brush this one under the carpet, confront it head-on, be honest and patient with her and whatever you do, approach this with as much tact as possible and if she threatens to break up with you if you won’t do it, then as hard as it might be, break up with her. The minute any relationship degrades into ultimatums like that, you step into the territory of emotional blackmail and in my experience things very seldom get better after that point.

Either way, let us know what happens dude, and if anyone else wants to offer solutions, I think our buddy here could use them!



Remember, if you have difficulties with life in any way, size, shape or form, you too can Tell The Tiger by simply mailing him on and he will do his level best to address your troubles or your money back!


Tell The Tiger (Episode 1)

Hi Folks, and welcome to the first episode of ‘Tell The Tiger’ with me, your humble host, SlickTiger.

I was completely overwhelmed by all your emails, who knew you guys were so fucked up? Thank you for sharing though, with my help we can overcome the hardships of existence and blossom as incredible and unique homosapiens.



So let’s jump in there shall we?


Hi Slick,

I have recently been experiencing a problem involving pets in the complex.

Problem 1. There is this huge fucking fluffy ginger cat that looks like Garfield that takes the liberty of pissing on my front door almost everyday, leaving this welcoming sickly sweet ammonia stench to infiltrate my nostrils every time I enter or exit my flat. And its not just a little spray, that fucking cat wrings its kidneys completely, leaving a fairly large puddle, one that you would certainly not think came from one little cat!!! I bought a water pistol and a cap gun, but have yet to catch the ginger red handed as it were, but I have seen him scurrying down the stairs a few times when I am parking my car, so I know it’s him. So I haven’t managed to use my arsenal on him yet, something that keeps me up at night from sadistic excitement at the thought of capping him. If I catch him I even thought of putting the mother fucker in my toilet, flushing it, and then letting the sorry son of bitch loose, hopefully to never see him, or smell him again!

Problem 2. Next door, not in my complex, but in one of the surrounding house, there lives 3 Scottish terriers or corgis, like the Queen has, I’m not sure, cause I have only seen them from a distance. And seriously, when I say they bark non-stop, all fucking day and night, I’m not kidding. It drives me fucking insane with rage. I have contemplated shooting the dogs with a pellet gun, throwing firecrackers over. I tried to get hold of the owner, but he won’t answer his phone, (his neighbour gave me his number), and he never seems to be home.

Please, slick, what should I do?


Anonymous P

Fuck, too hectic! Anonymous P, your life sounds like a hellish ordeal, between the cat soiling your front door and the Queen’s dogs never shutting the fuck up I’m surprised you even found the time to write this email.

Good news is I got a solution for you my good man. Two, to be precise.

First off, know this – that cat fucking hates you. It is deliberately pissing all over your front door because it has singled you out as an ‘easy target’ and will continue to do so, unabated, unless you take DRASTIC action.



The waterpistol / cap gun idea, while novel, is not going to solve your problem. What you need to do is the following:

Step 1

Watch a lot of Dexter. Take special note of the way he prepares his ‘kill sites’. See how he covers every available surface with plastic before he kills his victims? I want you to do exactly the same thing in the entire area around your front door.

Step 2

Buy a bucket of bright orange paint and some string. They want a cat that looks like Garfield? Fine. Give em a cat that looks like Garfield. Leave the front door slightly ajar and get a buddy to prop the open bucket of paint on the top of the door.

Then tie some string to the door handle and unravel enough of it so that you can find a comfortable position to watch the front door from and still be able to shut the door with a quick tug.

Step 3

Wait. Waiting takes awhile, so be patient and let your murderous rage for Garfield fuel your vigilance. Once you see that evil fucker come sniffing around, let him get nice and comfy and right as he’s mid-pee, give the string a quick tug.

Step 4

Laugh in that little fucker’s fucking FACE as he screeches in surprise and flees the scene of the crime, trailing orange paint all over the fucking complex. You won’t have to worry about any of that shit though. Thanks to the plastic sheeting, there won’t be one drop of orange paint, or cat piss anywhere near your front door EVER.

Ka-pow! Problem solved!

As for the dogs that never shut the fuck up, the answer here is simple. The owners need to buy bark collars for their dogs. Bark collars administer a small electric shock every time the dog barks, which will only be six or seven times before the dog gets the message.

Convince the owner to buy bark collars by using simple intimidation tactics and then escalating things until he or she gets the message.



Start by buying a few magazines, some glue, some scissors and a notepad and cutting out letters and gluing them to the page, like a ransom note.

The first note should be fairly simple and should read as follows:

Your dogs never stop barking. It is driving me insane. Please buy bark collars for them when you’re not home or I’ll get angry. You wouldn’t like me when I’m angry.

That last sentence is from The Hulk. That’s how they’ll know you aren’t fucking around.

If the dogs still don’t shut the fuck up after that, wait for the early hours of the morning, then sneak over to their car port and pour a 1kg bag of sugar into the guy’s petrol tank.

Leave a second ransom note on the guy’s windshield that reads:

If you like driving as much as I like living in a quiet and peaceful complex, you’ll buy bark collars for your dogs

They’ll get the message after that. If not, leave a third note that reads:

You don’t seem to be getting the message. Maybe you need some prison-time to have a good hard think about how we’re going to solve this whole dogs-never-shutting-the-fuck-up problem.

Then phone the police and tell them dog-guy is a known sex offender and you’ve seen him hanging around kid’s playgrounds in and around your area with a pair of binoculars and a camera with a massive zoom lens.



Ka-pow! Problem solved!

See folks, the lesson here is not to let the pets of others fuck with your life.

Anonymous P, I hope this advice helps you out dude, let me know how it all goes and good luck!

Tune in next week for letters from people that have awkward and embarrassing sex-problems!



SlickTiger Industries © Presents…

It’s been a long time in the making, but I’m finally ready to announce something pretty mindblowing that is going to feature right here, on this, the MOST ill-conceived site on the interwebs EVER.

The idea came to me in a rare moment of clarity while I was washing the dishes last night and the second it struck me, my jaw went completely slack, like a punch-drunk fighter taking a haymaker right in the FACE.



I immediately told the idea to J-Rab and she got that look on her face that is a perfect mixture of bewilderment and mild panic, which is how I knew I had NAILED IT.

So without fucking around one second further, I’m gonna lay it on you.

The next thing you read is going to be my killer idea, so just try to prepare yourself for the awesomeness ok?

Ok. Here goes.

I’m going to write an advice column. Right here. On this blog.

Every Friday I’m going to sift through the thousands and thousands of emails you guys are going to send and I’m going to pick three that need my advice the most and then I’m going to dispense that advice, GRATIS, in order to improve your lives and help you reach your true potential as the amazing human beings you are.



ANYTHING that you send me will be treated with the utmost confidentiality and under no circumstances will I reveal your identity other than the name you sign your email with, which you can of course just leave blank (the name, not the email).

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