It’s time once again for some bullet-proof Human Host wisdom—the only resource that will insure a possibility without the needless interference of hard spoken “Earth” proof.
Please send postcards and letters with your questions for H.H. to:
Ask Human Host
2440 Lorillard Place
Bronx, NY 10458
Is there a god?
Fredrik Nillson, southern Sweden
Jelly Jelly Hapsburg. Marching Lenny. Watery Jaysa. Kabob Stevenson.
Crystal. Brandy. Trey. Tucker. Agatha. Parched Bobo.
Concepcion Borgia. Chortles McGee.Cranberry Jo.
And how could we forget the one, the only.… Surfin’ Frog(!!!)
I’m sick and tired of dealing with all the traffic clogging up the interstate roads that lead to New York City. What's the fastest and most toll-free way to get to New York while bypassing the New Jersey Turnpike?
Gridlocked in the Garden State
We have taken many shortcuts to get avoid the hassle of New York area traffic, here’s the best one of them all:
- Fly a painless nebula version of your body into the propeller of an airplane.
- Realize your bloodless scatter visage—the atomized mimicry.
- As your essence retains a mist form, gleam slightly.
- Make a left into the car wash.
- Turn slowly to face your passengers.
- Tell a rambling, exaggerated story about your revolutionary adventures as a drug free goblin slayer in Suriname.
- At the story’s conclusion, pretend to die.
Murtle J. - Richmond, Va.
Good is one of the last of the destructo muffins. Good is the bead of sweat that flies through the galaxy on gossamer wings. Good is a mirror dream. Good is a pulse that beats right below the reflective surface. Good is an inventor who crumbles at the sight of The Spinning Cluster Pack. Good is fate music.
Me and my partner have been seeing each other for about 4 years. We've had our fair share of ups and downs, but we’ve managed to get through it all together. Our relationship is ready to go to the next level, so I really feel like we need to figure out what the rest of our lives will look like as a couple. Human Host, please give me some tips on how to initiate this really important conversation.
Lost In Love
As the speed skater smashes out of a 52nd story window, the basketball player makes that last heavenly slam dunk and the golfer stumbles off into infinity chasing a ball that was never there to begin with, right when the race car driver prepares to cross that great finish line in the sky. At the same moment, the pie eating contest reaches an eternal stale mate concurrently with that special time when a chess match gets really messy which, of course, immediately precedes the ape men vs. normal girls high five competition… an event defined by the birth of a new sound crater.
This crater has no name. It levitates just beyond sight, but well within earshot.
This makes the coach nervous. The coach is a transparent image, a colossal hologram, a tireless cross bearer who responds to deep fried jurisdiction and little else.