Ask Aunt Sophie

This is our first installment of Ask Aunt Sophie, that long time follower of college football and sage whose advice is as good as gold. The rich, the famous, power brokers and those in need of power alike seek Aunt Sophie's opinion before they make a single move. Aunt Sophie has agreed to provide us with a smidgen of her weekly correspondence.

Dear Aunt Sophie: They hate me in Alabama. HE's back in South Carolina. Almost every day when I go to my car, my wife's left another advertisement for a lose weight fast plan. Cortislim? What's with that? It says it will take away the stress and make me lose the fat in my belly. What do they know about stress? I'm supposed to win 13 games this season. That's stress. Do you think those folks have a clue about playing on the road in The Swamp or Death Valley? I have to go there back to back. And I'm supposed to show up in Tuscaloosa wearing a bullet proof vest. I've been squirrel hunting in Alabama before and those boys wouldn't aim for the heart anyway. They would aim right between the eyes. Am I supposed to wear some kind of Darth Vader helmet? My Krispy Kreme endorsement runs out this year. Preparation H wants me as a spokesman. Do you think that's the kind of image I want to project? I can't talk to my wife anymore. She wants me to drop 40 pounds and she's not gonna give me the time of day until I do. Can you at least be supportive? I need help Aunt Sophie.



Dear Phil: As far as I'm concerned a waist is a terrible thing to mind. Did your wife threaten to leave when your bank account ballooned to three times its previous size? Any wife who would leave you over 40 pounds isn't worth keeping. I say grab a dozen Krispy Kremes and put them in her lingerie drawer. Then go down to the "Mouse's Ear" and hire three of their finest dancers to be "housekeepers" at your home.

As for Tuscaloosa, first head over to Dreamland for a slab or two. On game day hire 20 sumo wrestlers and put them in Orange Ponchos along the sidelines. That'll confuse the hell out of 'em. And try to relax about the 13 wins, cuz it aint happenin'.

Aunt Sophie

Dear Aunt Sophie: The last three days after practice, I got in my car and headed home only to discover after I got good and lost that my Onstar Navigation has been turned off. Fortunately, I had my cell phone and I called my wife. She told me where that button thingy is so I pushed it and some nice lady started talking to my car --- where in heckfire was she? In a satellite somewhere? --- and telling me how to get home. Do you think someone is trying to tell me something?

Your buddy,


P.S. How in heckfire do you fire your son when your wife is threatening you? The other side of the bed is pretty dang cold as it is. She tells me the sofa is colder.

Dear Bobbie: Modern technology can be confusing for the elderly. That "lady" you heard was actually Wyatt Sexton in the trunk. I suggest leaving him there. As for the Mrs., you cannot fire her son without a big distraction first. Get shut out opening night and by the time they're done burning him in effigy you can get him set up with some investment company. Some fools will give a fortune to someone just because of his last name. but I guess you already knew that.

As for the bed thing, use your noggin! Go to bed first, then she has to sleep on the "cold" side.

Aunt Sophie

Dear Aunt Sophie: What's a girl to do? I gave Mikey the best eight hours of my life and now he's done lost his job one place and next thing I know he's in El Paso. I been to El Paso Aunt Sophie. No self-respecting girl like me would live there. Yeah, I know I'm a stripper and I know I worked at Arety's Angels in Pensacola but strippers are people too. I have feelings. I'm a sensitive type. That's why I fell for Mikey with those big cow eyes of his and that lip trembling like it did. So my question is do I follow him out to that godforsaken desert rat hole in west Texas or do I keep stripping here in the panhandle until he gets promoted to some civilized place? Oh, and I almost forgot. Is he married? And tell me what you think about that boy they replaced my Mikey with up there in Tuscaloosa? I understand he's named Mikey, too. Can you tell me if he can coach a lick? Do you think he's my type?

Big hugs from the beach,


Dear Destiny: What great timing. Forget Mikey. Forget Pensacola, and for the sake of humanity forget El Paso.

Get yourself to Knoxville where there's a wealthy, full-figured guy eager to be appreciated for who is really is. If you don't mind doin' it covered in bavarian cream I think there's something we can work out.

Aunt Sophie

P.S. Don't worry about the replacement "Mikey". He's just another wannabe living off Daddy's good name.

Fightin Gators Top Stories