Saturday, January 28, 2012
Dear Mr. Bad Advice!
My name is Tammy and I am Frank's granddaughter and I think your advice really stinks! I wish you would mind your own business. My grandfather was going to help me buy a car until you "adviced" him out of it. I'm so mad I could spit. An ipod and an ice cream cone are no substitute for a new car. Besides, I think I could have sweet talked grandma, too. You ruined it all! If I could see you face to face, I'd choke you!
Dear Not Happy,
I wasn't giving you advice, but your grandpa, Frank. and, Frankly, (nice play on words, huh) my advice is to be taken with a grain of salt. But in this case I think it was great advice, especially the part about the ice cream cone because from the sounds of things in your letter, that is about what you deserve. Yes, I can see the sweet qualities your grandfather was talking about. If I were him though I'd be a little on guard next time you put your arms around his neck. And, hey, if you don't want the ipod you could always send it to me.
Looks like you will have to drive off to college in an old clunker like the rest of the college kids. And grampa will be able to afford one more month of the retirement home in his old age, that is, if you don't go to hugging him around the neck again. In that case, grandma might have to go it alone.
Hope you feel better now.
Committed to Crazy Advice,