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Slackjaw Online, Columns by the popular and grumpy NY Press columnist

Art on a Stick, Drawings and comics by B. Amundson

Mouth Wash, Stories, humor, and articles by Mike Walsh

Parables in Glass, Disturbing stained glass artwork by Judith Schaechter

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Incredible wood carvings by Susan Hagen

Creative Non-Fiction, Autobiographical paintings by Sarah McEneaney

Strangely beautiful paintings by Mitch Gillette

Ask Ms. Ardor

Dear Ms. Ardor,

Lately, my husband, to whom I have been married 25 blissful years, has been talking in his sleep about a person named "Gert." One night he literally screamed, "Gert! Gert! Where are you, Gert?" and that happened not fifteen minutes after we had consummated a commemorable commingling. When I ask him about Gert, he claims that he doesn't know anyone by that name. Have you ever?

Losing Sleep in Tuscaloosa

Dear Sleep, Drastic measures are necessary. First, from this moment forward, refuse to make goochie-whoop with the lousy sonofabitch. (Cunnilingus, of course, is permissible as long as the slimy namedropper assumes a suitably humiliating position.) As soon as he falls asleep tonight, passionately writhe on your bed and shout the following in a Spanish accent: "Oh, Raoul, yes, thrust your throbbing Latin love muscle deeper, Raoul, yes, deeper...." Continue until your husband wakes you, then disavow all knowledge of Raoul. Repeat these performances three nights running or until the name Gert never again violates the sanctity of your bedroom walls.


Dear Ms. Ardor,

I am 15 years old. My boyfriend is 17. When we go out parking, he is constantly trying to stick his you-know-what in my mouth. It looks horrible, and I'm lucky to have escaped this long with my virginity in tact. He says his ex-girlfriends used to do it, and that I would too if I loved him. I do love him, but I know that if I stick that thing in my mouth I'll probably throw-up all over his new interior, and he'll drop me for some girl with a stronger stomach. Surely, you've been in a similar situation.

Under Duress in Durango

Dear Duress, How else do you think Joan Rivers got her own talk show?


Dear Ms. Ardor,

I am 15 years old and I want to start dating chicks and take them out in my Dad's car and get 'em all worked up and see if I can get any of 'em to go all the way, or at least part way. (Anything's better than nothing, ha ha!) And speaking of which, I've got a date with this 9th grader and she looks better than some of the 11th graders. I can hardly wait. But I got this problem and it's getting worse, so I guess I better come right out with it. I'm growing boobs, and they're getting bigger every day. What's worse, they are the ugliest things I have ever seen, like hairy brown golf balls. Sometimes I tape them down, but the tape gives me skin rashes, and it hurts like hell when I pull it off. And what if this 9th grader discovers them? I'll never get another date. I thought they would go away, but they won't. I'm up shit's creek.

Boobs are Bad for Boys in Bayonne

Dear Bad Boobs,

  1. Find a girl with brown, hairy, golfball-like tits. She'll sympathize.
  2. Perhaps a bra would help. Playtex lifts and separates, Maiden Form provides the bra-less, nipple look (not recommended in your case), but good jogging bra would provide that special "hidden" look.
  3. Stay out of lockerrooms.

Pop Your Top!

Or have her pop it for you!

Next time your woman asks for a smoke, just pull out this sexy lighter and "Pop Your Coc." This lighter is only 3" long, so hopefully she won't mistake it for the real thing. But it looks enough like the real thing to stop any woman right in her tracks. So be the life of the party. We guarantee that you will have the hottest "Coc" there.


Dear Ms. Ardor,

My Uncle Marty has a strange habit. Whenever he comes to our house, he immediately picks up our toy poodle, Poochie, and begins tickling the poor thing's penis until Poochie has an erection (very cruel, seeing as how Poochie is nearly 12-years-old). Uncle Marty throws his head back and roars with laughter, and Poochie doesn't seem to mind either. In fact, frail Poochie literally leaps into my uncle's arms the moment he crosses our threshold. Everyone in our family works very hard to keep Poochie from having an erection, because when he does he inevitably makes a gooey mess on the carpet. Because of these messes, my Father has threatened to have Poochie fixed, but my Mom and I have lobbied tirelessly to protect Poochie's privates from the veterinarian's scalpel. Let me emphasize that Uncle Marty is a very normal man in every other way.

Save Poochie's Penis!

Dear Poochie's Penis, Haven't you ever heard of poodle prophylactics? And, by the way, since when do young ladies care so much about doggie privates? See a psychologist. It's boy-penis that you should be lobbying for!


Dear Ms. Ardor,

My husband and I have been married for 15 beautiful years when a young married woman who works with my husband talked this fine Christian family man into committing adultery. She is very plain and doesn't look the type, but she kept after him, telling him what a poor lover her husband was, so he felt sorry for her and that's how it happened. I am sure my husband didn't lust after her; it was more like an act of charity. Would you call this adultery?

Sinned Against

Dear Sinned Against, Since when is it adultery to have sex with someone other than a goddamn idiot?

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