Chris P. Bacon, a reader from Hog Nut, Arkansas writes:

Dear Uncle Snarky,

I am a boy who belongs to a girl scout troop.  I feel that boys are underrepresented in the girl scouts and I am a trailblazer for a better tomorrow.  We need a guest speaker for our next troop meeting, and since we couldn’t get the dude that lives in the oleander bushes behind the 7-11 store, we thought, what the hell?  Uncle Snarky is better than nothing.

Some of the parents are objecting to having you speak to our troop.  They say there are rumors that you’re a pervert and a weirdo.  Sally’s mother says she saw your face on one of the most wanted posters in the Post Office and that you’re a corruptor of youth.

So, how about it?

Uncle Snarky replies:

I feel you on the trailblazing, Crispy, I mean, Chris P.  The Snark was enrolled at the St. Agnes School for Morally Bankrupt Girls for almost seven months before they figured out I was a guy.  I’m pretty sure it was the penis that gave me away.

I must say, I’ve become tired of the rumors of my perversion.  I feel that I’ve done more than enough to substantiate those rumors and they should now be considered stone cold facts!  

Do the girl scouts still do those horrible hazing rituals?  I remember this one time, when I was at St. Agnes.  The girls said I had to pass a “test” before I could become a scout.  I was force fed toadstools that coincidentally grew behind the 7-11 store.  I was tripping balls, I mean, tripping vulva, and ended up getting arrested for impersonating Chelsea Clinton and demanding special treatment at Wal Mart.  They say that the taser won’t have any permanent effect on my reproductive ability, but the kick in the crotch I got from the police donkey might.

That ain’t Hello Kitty peeking out of my arse!

I can’t remember what the hell your question was, but let me leave you with this bit of wisdom … never try to smuggle a badger from Mexico into the United States by hiding it in your underwear.  Nothing good will come of it.

– Uncle Snarky

Dammit.  I thought she said fish STICKS.

farkel 1 & 2

The Snark Replies:

Dear Farkel 1 and Farkel 2,

Far be it from The Snark to pass judgment on anyone, but you two knuckleheads sound like the kind of people who smuggle grilled cheese sandwiches into the movies by stashing them between their butt cheeks. I’m just sayin …

I made the mistake of smoking “cigars” with Tykee one time and I woke up behind a mule in Tijuana with $14 stapled to my forehead. I don’t know what the hell happened but to this day Mexicans throw roses at my feet.

And I didn’t want to bring this up, but Tykee has a problem with piracy. That little bastard has one of the largest porn collections I’ve ever seen. Supposedly, he has one especially disgusting porno movie that features a totally nude Hillary Clinton performing unspeakable acts on some poor dumbass who has $14 stapled to his forehead. Wait a minute? What the funk?

The unholy laptop you have in your possession is well known to several friends of mine who investigate strange happenings. You should be receiving a call soon from Daphne or Velma concerning this matter.

It reminds me of this one time when I was attacked by a haunted monkey foot. Damn bat was flying around shitting all over everything. Monkey foot was stinkin’. I kept screaming Ms. Rudolph, Ms. Rudolph! No, never mind. I got confused. That was Richard Pryor, not me.  I hate it when that happens.

What the? Get the fuck away from me, Tykee! You little one-nut bastage! I ain’t smokin’ none of that shit with you again! Someone please call nine-one-one.

– Uncle Snarky –

Recently a reader named Iben Yankanov wrote ………..

“Dear Uncle Snarky, my grandmother says you’re an idiot and that she has photographic evidence that you store “D” cell batteries in your rectum. I think you’re aces though!”

Lulu Fussle from Sausalito, California writes……

 “Dear Uncle Snarky, you are a potty mouth. Why do you curse so much?”

 The Snark replies…..

 Well, I’m glad you asked. The reason Uncle Snarky curses so much is because fuck you, Lulu.

– Uncle Snarky –

Mort and Florene Snurdle from Bullfrog, Utah write:

Dear Uncle Snarky, my wife thinks you know everything, unlike your own wife who actually knows you. Here’s our question.

Lars Momsen from Sleepy Eye, Minnesota writes:

“Dear Uncle Snarky, my wife, Afoofa, tells me that you’re some hot shot, know-it-all and that you can answer a question we’re having. I think I read somewhere on the internet that you’re a total pervert with a thing for goats in lingerie or some such crapola. Personally, you frighten the hell out of me, but Afoofa says you’re her go-to-guy, so here’s our question.

Mort Fuque, a reader from Squatclod, Iowa writes…..

“Dear Uncle Snarky, the wife and kids are insisting that I take them to a carnival. I love carnival food, but I’m terrified of the rides. When I was a child, I was traumatized by the boy sitting next to me on the Tilt-A-Whirl. The little bastard threw up pink birthday cake all over my new Keds. I can still hear that doomed grade-schooler begging the ride operator to stop…. please stop!”

“I’m sorry, I got distracted.”