Hey Fugly,

My boyfriend was texting some skankasaurous, so I grabbed his phone and bitch-slapped him. He then proceeded to beat the shit out of me and drag me out of the car by my weave.

The next day he brought me a Hostess cupcake and swore he'd never do it again. It was so sweet! Although my face hasn't healed, my heart has. I think I'm going to get back together with him, but first I'd like your advice.

Yours truly,
Beverly Hills Bitch Slapper

Dear Bitch Slapper,

Fugly was once beaten senseless by a legless man after the Battle of Baton Rouge during the Civil War. He was a loathsome Yankee, but Fugly just couldn't resist his stiff blue cap. The filthy Northerner was on a lot of morphine so Fugly thought he would be easy prey, but his upper body had massive strength and he beat Fugly unconscious with his shimmering silver bed pan. I can still hear the clink on Fugly's skull before waking up in the goat cage at the vet.

These days Fugly is a much craftier rapist. Fugly has an impressive collection of roofies, speculums, and large nets to capture victims.

Anyhow, let's get back to your question. Fugly loves Hostess cupcakes and will certainly take one in exchange for a beating. Mmmmm, white cream. But Fugly must warn you, your gentleman caller will beat you again and next time he may not bring a cupcake as retribution. It would be best to kill him. No one has to know.

Best wishes,

Hey Fugster,

Last night I went to a hick bar called The Saddle Rack, and sure, some of the guys were cute, but the whole cowboy look makes me drier than an old tumbleweed. Fugly, the whole urban cowboy thing is ridiculous! It's a costume! They might as well be dressed as astronauts or the Spice Girls. What was even more shocking is that the clams were going wild for these Western wieners. Fugly, why do women like these country western wankers? I just don't get it.

Anita Anti-Hick

Dear Anita,

Fugly couldn't disagree more—nothing gets Fugly's giblets in a twist quite like a snug pair of Wranglers with a Copenhagen circle worn into the back pocket. Mmmm, chew.

Fugly is not ashamed to say she has a few spur indents in her hide. Sadly they're not from anything romantic. It was last Friday night, Fugly was out front of The Blue Moon Saloon when suddenly she saw a shimmering treasure in the dirt. It was a glistening new nickel! Fugly bent over to pick it up when suddenly Fugly was mounted from the rear—a drunken cowpoke mistook Fugly's formidable rear for his horse's ass. Fugly's first instinct was to buck him off, but his muscular buttocks left Fugly hungry for more. So I let him ride Fugs home.

Anita, I don't know what your problem is, Fugly can't wait to hop aboard her Buro and hawl ass to The Saddle Rack. Will they actually have a rack for my saddle? That would be very convenient.

Happy Hoe Downs!

Oh Fugly,

Everyone kept telling me to watch this movie called Twilight. Apparently it's a hit with the teens or something. So I did, and let me tell you, it was re-donk-ulous. The "heartthrob" vampire was wearing lipsticks! Brilliant red lipstick throughout the movie. It was very distracting. Fugly, what is with this sudden vampire craze? Do you know any vampires?

Best wishes,

Dear Bruno,

The townsfolk used to think Fugly was a vampire because she is so very elderly. They would chase Fugly through the forest with a crucifix, and Fugly ran like hellfire—not because the crucifix would hurt Fugs, but because Fugly thought they were Jehovah's Witnesses trying to drag Fugly to a Jesus singles mixer (Fugly's fear of Lord Lovers eclipses her horniness for singles). Then one day they saw Fugly at California Pizza Kitchen eating 14 chicken and garlic pizzas, so now they feel safe.

Bruno, Fugly does not know why vampires are so in vogue. Frankly, Fugly thinks their pasty flesh is very unattractive—unlike Fugly's sexy mahogany leathery glow.