Dear Little Bald Bastard,
  Can you think of a good photo-poll question?
- Frantic Student Magazine
Dear Frantic,
  Here you go. What do you get when you cross a bald head, a ten dollar pair of sunglasses, and a sense of humor only slightly more sophisticated than curdled milk?
  My answer, incidentally, would be "a shtick I can milk for three years."

Dear Little Bald Bastard,
  Complete this sentence:
"Hell is..."
- Personal Virgil
Dear Virgil,
  Well, your classicist might say "other people," to show off how witty and literate they are. Frankly, I think hell is forgetting to shave your head for a few weeks, and subsequently getting your hair caught in every sweater, hood, and hat you wear.
  What? My scalp is sensitive...

Dear Little Bald Bastard,
  I was wondering if you'd explain this little quote. I overheard it at the mall today and my ears have been bleeding ever since...
"Sometimes blonds eat the beach, sometimes they eat a hotdog stand...the point is friend, they all eat."
Thank you.
- Suffering from stupidity (not mine...other's)
Dear Suffering,
  It sounds to me as if you overheard a conversation between two Godzilla scholars. They were obviously speaking in code so as not to alarm passersby with their description of the unusually destructive eating habits of the legendary radioactive lizard.

Dear Little Bald Bastard,
  Who is the coolest person you know (not met, not read about but actually know on a personal level)? And then you can tell me all about the coolest person you have met and read about... :)
- Kurious Kitty
Hold On There, Kurious,
  That's way too many related questions for my brain to process right now. Let me answer the first part with something that sounds no less cliche' for being absolutely true. The coolest people I know personally are my parents. Mom and Dad Bastard are still married, unlike 80 percent of my friends' parents. Also, they had a very clear idea of when to stop raising me.
  My parents didn't let me get away with too much stupid shit when I was a kid, but after a certain age they understood that it was no longer appropriate to meddle directly in my affairs. They are happy to offer advice, support, and even constructive criticism from time to time, but they are very good about treating me like an adult. They don't pry into my life, they don't offer unsolicited solutions to my problems, and they never, ever lecture me. They are the most awesome Mom and Dad a Bastard could have, and I appreciate them more every time I hear a friend tell a "my Mom won't shut up" story.

Dear Bastard:
  I'm getting married next year and need to make a few extra bucks. Do you think I would make a suitable addition to my local tittie bar?
- Shaking my Money Maker
Dear Shaking,
  As long as you have the required mammaries and the slimmest grasp of rythmic dancing, I don't see how you can lose. Give a man a few beers, and he'll stuff a dollar in the thong of even the skankiest ho. You might want to check with your fiancee on this, though. If he shows up with his buddies for the bachelor party and finds you leaving a slime trail down a fireman's pole, he might start having second thoughts.

Dear Little Bald Bastard,
  Okay, so how do you break it down to a roommate that no, you don't wanna experiment and thank you-but uh...you don't really need to have gay sex with them to become closer?
-John Smith
Dear Obvious Psuedonym,
  It depends the reaction you expect to receive. If your roommate is reasonable, then simply confront him honestly. If you expect tears and a tantrum, try telling him just before you go away for the weekend. If he's a loner with an extensive collection of guns, get used to putting out.

Dear Little Bald Bastard,
  Which is worse, loading a newborn feet first into a blender to make baby smoothies OR grinding up a couple old people to make sausage?
- Worse Witch
Dear Worse,
  It depends. Is the baby already dead? Are the old people war criminals? If you really want to put me in a moral bind, you'll have to be much more specific.

Dear Little Bald Bastard,
  What was your best hallucination?
- Trippin' Curious
Dear T.C.,
  That one where Satan took me up on that mountain, and he showed me the whole world, and said I could rule it all if I'd only swear allegiance to him. That one was sweet.
  Wait, was that me? I can never remember...

Dear LBB,
  Why don't girls take shits?
- Scatologist
Dear Scatologist,
  I was once read the riot act by an old girlfriend for asking the very same question. While her response was harsh and belittling to my manhood, it boiled down to two points.
1) Girls don't "shit," they "defecate."
2) As far as I was concerned, she didn't defecate, either.
  After she dumped me, I spent many months scanning the newspaper in hopes of reading about her inevitable death from exploding intestines. Alas, it never happened.

Dear Little Bald Bastard,
  Jigga what?
- Boro Thug
Dear Boro Thug,
  You've got me. I'm stumped.

Dear Little Bald Bastard,
  What if God smoked cannabus (sic)?
- Jesus Stole My Stash
Dear J.S.M.S,
  It wouldn't be that odd, really. If you ascribe to the New Testament assertion that Jesus was, in fact, God, then it isn't all that big a stretch to see God as a wandering hippie. He certainly drank enough wine, and in the Gospel of Mark he spends 40 days in the desert hallucinating. Whether he was tripping on something, or just freaking out because he hadn't eaten for over a month is a matter for some debate, but God certainly has a history of experiencing altered states of consciousness. And that's ignoring the obvious platypus joke.

Dear Little Bald Bastard,
  If you consume 32 ounces of strawberry-banana smoothies, what's the worst thing that can happen to you?
- Smoothie Addict
Dear Smoothie Addict,
  Probably paying $4.00 for a drink that you could make at home by spending 30 seconds to blend 75 cents worth of ingredients.

Dear Little Bald Bastard,
  How much is that doggy in the window (Woof Woof), the one with the with the waggily tail?
- The Slut Boat
Dear Slut Boat,
  Relatively inexpensive, until you figure in the cost of food, trips to the vet, and having your furniture reupholstered after your excitable new puppy decides to let you know how happy he is to see you by showering an entire room with urine. Then again, balanced against the type of unconditional love that you'll never receive from any human being, a couch that smells like pee might not be so bad.

Dear Little Bald Bastard,
  Bachelor #1: If I were an ice cream cone, how would you eat me?
- Bachelorette
Dear Bachelorette,
  Out of a cup. Otherwise, I'd be likely to drop you on the floor to be licked up by a stray dog.

Dear Little Bald Bastard,
  What's the best way to get rid of unwanted killer mold?
- Crossings Clueless
Dear Clueless,
  As opposed to all that welcome killer mold? First, go bang your face solidly against the refrigerator. This won't help with the mold: it's your punishment for phrasing your question so stupidly. Have someone take a picture of your broken, bloody visage, and email it to me. Once I'm satisfied that you've suffered enough, I'll help you get rid of the fanatical spores that even now are corroding your immune system.