Well, Dear Listeners, the time is upon us to confront the most important qwestion of all: where are my glasses? Ah, there we are.

Now I would answere the many requests I get to reveale a little more about myself. Besides my tenure here at the Frontal Lobe, I am quite busy.

I have responsibilites, including aiding the staffe of St. Margaret's Home for Waywarde Girls. I am teaching the male doctors and orderlies to be more lecherous through my negative excample. I show up inebrieat'd and foul-tempered and attempt to glom onto the first available female inmate. The resulting Disgust and ambient fear thus aroused is a helpful teaching tool, according to the Board of Directors there.

"This is what you will face upon youree release from our Care," they say to their charges, and the aghast faces register actual Concern, to be compared with the smug attitudes normally put down in reaction to the staff's pleas for good behavior.

I do this as a free service to the Community, and receive nothing in return, save the frequent love-letters frome the affore-mentioned girls. These delusional missives are highly sexually charged and usually quite explicit. I keep them in a file, and read them on occasion, when the Mood is right.

I have also sent in my Application to be Viceroy of Mexico. My resume is a little thin, but the picture is outstanding. I expect a reply in next month's transo-fax.

Many of you have written in to ask what brand or brands of Snuff I enjoy, and I would direct you to Sgt. Smith's High-Acting Nose Powder. Do not snort too hard, but when you do, do not swallow the inevitable slime that creeps down the back of your throat. But when you do, be sure to expectorate the substance forthwith, and aim carefully. My Editore has seen fit to converge a series of Lexan panels around my work-station, and I have not taken Offence.

Now, on to the Qwestions!:

Dear Funknasty,

My uncle Ned and I have a bet. I say that the phrase is “A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down.” Uncle Ned says it’s a spoonful of whiskey. Which of us is right?

Sour in Savannah

Dear Sour, the answere to the riddle lies in the make-up of the Medicine in qwestion. There are Tinctures of Opium that are already thoroughly sugared and also completley whiskeyfied to boot. That is no reason not to tamper with the recipie however, and I can attest to the flavor-enhacing qualitites provided by High-Fructose Corn Syruppe, a sqeeze of lime, salt, vinegar, horseradishe, lamb's fat, boiled boot-laces, villifying powdere and Extract of Spleen.

Mix these in a high-ball glass and serve chill'd. There is no way to increase the Opium effectiveness without, you may have surmised, increasing the Opium. Additive tablets are available in any of the top 5 drawers of my desk. Helppe yourself, but do leave a note if you exhaust any one type.

Dear Fangnottle,

My friend Isaiah and I have a bet. I say that if you name your daughter “Savannah”, you’ve destined her to become a stripper. Isaiah says a Mary Kay saleswoman. Which of us is right?

Gambling in Gramblin

Does your friend Isaiah ever speake of what offices a man with his name generally holds? We should ask him what gives him the right to denigrate strippers and saleswomen. Most likely he is merely jealous, as these are professions not open to men. But to be fair, we need more information. Instruct Isaiah to change his name to Savannah. He will need a dress and wig and an interview with Mary Kay or the local burlesque house, whichever comes first.

My hunch is, he will land one or the other job, and his subsequent boost in self-esteem will render the entire argument moot. Plus the qwestion will be answered as to which profession a Savannah may inhabit best. Two with one stone, good odds on any day.

Now I have the great honor to announce the promotion of My Assistant from Claerk Third-Class to Claerk Fourth Class. Oops, this is actually a demotion, probably because of his botched handling of the Maile-Roome staff union dispute. No one thought he could pull it off, and if I'm not mistaken I hear money changing hands right now. Better luck next time, Scribble. I fear I am to blame, as it was I who forced you to negotiate in my place without any preparation. But there is a silver lining, as I am several pounds richer having bet against your success! You will learn to invest with the same verve someday, if you follow my example.

Good Day, and Good Night,
Finknottle

Yes Indeed, dear chums, the days do pass quickly at this Lattitude. We will soon be needing to round up the livestock and prepare them for canning. Remind me to pass on the family recipie for Jugged Goat.

Without further ado, we will retire to the Qwestion-and-Answer phase.

Finknottle, Sir, how do you write your columns?
-Intrigued in Indiana

Dear Indiana, the creative process is the same whethere I am making a mind-shatteringly incisive column or baking a hen. Which is to say I first use the ingredients at hand, measurre them carefully, and cook.

But I suspect you mean the work-intensive process as a whole. Well, first the qwestions are formed in the fore-brain of You the listener. These are transmitted by telepathy to the paper and sent via messenger to the Liverputty receiving rooms. There they are sorted, categorized, shredded and additives poured in and left to sit for 7-10 days.

At the end of this curing step, the resulting slurry is piped into a holding tank on the roof of the Liverputty Eeditorial building. There is a tap above my desk that allows a discrete amount of slurry to be drained into my Wordgrinder. The steam is turned on, and pressure built up, and then I throw the valve that forces the works into motion.

After grinding and concatenation, the column emerges in its pastey, pre-finished form. This ghost of a column is sent to the print-room where it is hardened and trimmed to size. The antique spellings are thrown in, and extra 'e's wedged in anywhere and everywhere. A team of mimetic mice sketches the visage of Self for the portrait, capturing the changes over time that this job inflicts. When the whole is done, it is shipped via courier-camel to the distribution hubs around the world.

Was that too technical?

Yes, but it was worth it!
-Intrigued in Indiana

Dear Mr. Minkthrottle,

I was wowed and impressed by your command of the Subterranean Endeavours of the Badger. This has encouraged me to pose the Question that has plagued me, Lo, these many years. I happen to suffer from a low body temperature(and the naturally concomitant solitude) and was wondering which small mammals I should sew into my clothing for warmth and companionship. Do you have any suggestions? Icneumon Rats? White Footed Ferrets? Help!

Shivering in Sheboygan

Yes, I can plainly see the dilemma. Rats and ferrets are too toothy, I fear, (as are Badgers) to be safe for installation in proximity to the skin. There are warm-blodded worms, heat-generating insects and bacteria which in suitable numbers can raise the air a few degrees. I take it your employer will not see fit to pipe in warmth to your work-arena. Perhaps some subtle method of lowering his temperature would induce him to raise the firm's abient level. Post pictures of the Arctic, or turn the discusison to polar bears and frozen tundra. Put his hat in the crisper drawer of the automatic fridging unit.

Thank you for joining me, that is all for today, dear listeners. Until next time I am Finknottle.