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Aaaaargh! Do you really want to go prancing around Las Vegas with the kind of loser who could win your impossible plagiarism contest? I went online to figure out who you plagiarized, thinking it would only take a day or two to track down the authors of the responses in your plagiarized column. Twelve hours later, I gave up. The only person who could win this contest is some professional research geek! Not cool, Dan! Devise a new, winnable contest or you’ll be heading to Las Vegas with someone who’s a TOTAL GEEK! Is that what you want?!

—Cry Foul

I said the plagiarism contest was tough, CF, and that’s why I made the prize package so spectacular. (That prize package again: Three days in Vegas, at the Bellagio, with the flights, food, gambling, booze and hookers all on me.) I’m certainly not going to take someone to Las Vegas based on their ability to type a few lines into a search engine. Shit, I might as well have a “tie your own shoes” contest. I would rather go to Vegas with a research geek than some whiner who wants Las Vegas handed to him on a platter.

I just want to let you know that there is a Web site that searches for plagiarized items. It’s called “” Schools and universities use it to catch students. Your contest might be a lot easier than you think.


Read on, Nancy.

I submitted your plagiarized answers to a plagiarism search engine ( and ran it through some plagiarism-detecting software (EVE2 available at and they both came up blank. Rest assured that the Internet will be no help to anybody.


Nice try, Teach.

Where do you get your information? I’m referring to your reply to Montana Momma’s letter and your comment that, “One of the main features of homosexuality is promiscuity.” You are so wrong! My partner and I have been in a monogamous LTR (Life Time Relationship) for 18 years. My partner and I are homosexuals and you do not have the right to speak on our behalf—you are not the spokesperson for our community! Tell Montana Momma that her son can have a monogamous LTR relationship with another man!

—Itchy & Scratchy

Did you finish reading the column you’re complaining about? Apparently not, I&S, or you would know that I didn’t write the response to Montana Momma. Like all the responses in that column, the advice to Montana Momma was lifted from a book by some other advice-monger, a fact revealed at the end of the column. The next time you feel your panties crawling up your cracks, I&S, finish reading the column before you bang out an angry letter, OK?

Call me square, but I’m concerned about the people who wrote you the letters you used for your contest. If they wrote you a letter, seriously asking for advice, is it a good idea to use their letter as part of a joke? You said at the end that the letters were written by your readers. Granted, none of the letters would normally have been answered in your column, so the authors didn’t miss anything. I’m just concerned that they’re gonna be a little pissed off.

—Bad Move

People send letters to advice columns because they get advice from a disinterested third party. And what is advice? According to the American Heritage Dictionary, advice is “an opinion about what could or should be done.” The people whose letters I used in the plagiarism contest got what they had coming—the opinion of a disinterested third party—they just didn’t get the opinions of this disinterested third party. If the people whose letters I used are pissed, well, they’re free to file a complaint against me with my profession’s governing body, the Advice Columnists Association of North America. Complaints should be directed to ACANA’s current president, Judith “Miss Manners” Martin, c/o

Fitting in with your plagiarism contest and its “catch me committing a crime” theme, Dear Abby turned in one of her readers who wrote to her about his attraction to his girlfriend’s young daughters. What do you think about this? Isn’t there an assumption of confidentiality between advice columnists and their correspondents? Would you turn in someone who wrote to you about doing something illegal?

—Safe With Dan

If I called the police every time someone doing something illegal sent me a letter I would be on the phone with the cops 24 hours a day. More than half my mail is about sodomy of one sort or another, SWD, and sodomy is illegal in a lot of the places where my column appears. And, shit, I often read my mail while I’m doing something illegal.

That said, if I were to get a letter from someone who was raping kids I would definitely call the cops. The man that Abigail Van Buren turned in wasn’t raping kids, however, only fantasizing about raping kids, and while his fantasies were deeply disturbing, his fantasies weren’t illegal. I’m torn: In Abby’s shoes, I probably wouldn’t have called the cops. I don’t think we want people with sexual fantasies involving children to feel as if they can’t reach out for help without being exposed or arrested. But if someone with access to my 4-year-old wrote a letter to Dear Abby about fantasies concerning my son, I would want her to call the cops immediately.

I refuse to believe that every single fantasy sent in was as BORING as you say it was. What does that say about your readers? I, for one, would still be interested in hearing what people had to say. I’m sure I’m not alone in this sentiment. People took the time to share their fantasies with you. The least you could do is print some of them.

—Disappointed in Savage

Oh, all right, here’s a sample of the dull, dull, dull sexual fantasies that my readers sent in:

I am Smurfette. Gargamel has kidnapped me from Smurf Village and he keeps me in that little birdcage. He paces up and down, describing his plans to destroy Smurf Village forever. I am horrified, but strangely aroused. He also is getting distracted from his plans by the thought of my small blue femininity waiting breathlessly in the cage. Finally, he opens the cage and runs his finger up and down my body.

—Strange But True

Apolo Ohno receiving a bare-bottom spanking from Kent McCord, aka Officer Jim Reed from Adam-12.

—Go for Gold

Six women in skirts and business suits sit at an oval table discussing crucial business matters. I crawl around under the table like a dog, sniffing, licking and tasting everyone below the waiste.

—Whacking Off Over Fantasy

I’m swimming around in the ocean when a herd of octopi pin me down with their tentacles. A huge Queen octopi starts gently suctioning on my vagina until I orgasm. I’m scared at the beginning of the fantasy, but by the end, I succumb to the erotic power of their undulating appendages.

—Perverted Member of the Humane Society

Britney Spears naked, on her knees, pussy shaved, performing degrading things like rimming me, getting pissed and ejaculated on, having a black dildo with a tassel shoved up her ass, and being led outside on a leash so she can tinkle in the grass.


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