To the pinheads everywhere, shut your trap! 

To the rest of you, write me at editor@weeklyworldnews.com.

Dear Dotti,

My kid is on a travel baseball team and now I spend all my time in parking lots waiting for games to start. Between the uniforms, fees, equipment and hotels, I’m going broke AND driving three hours every weekend to sit in my car.  He’s the fourth string pitcher, and has yet to throw in a game, but still has to be there extra early! They just told us to pony up another couple hundred for warm-up uniforms! Is this really for the kids?
––signed, Baseball-Fever-Nightmare

Dear Foul Ball,

Of course it’s for the kids. Why else would an adult eat nachos on a metal bench next to a drainage ditch in Bakersfield? So, gas up your tank, ‘cause this week’s all-day tourney is on blazing hot Astroturf with one port-a-potty to be shared by all.  It’ll be worth it. I’m sure he’ll get a scholarship…HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!
––signed, Dotti

Dear Dotti,

I hired an exorcist for daughter, but it turns out she’s just a teenager! How is this possible? She screams at everyone, throws dishes, slams doors and uses words I can’t even pronounce! I picked up her phone, and she bared her teeth at me. I paid priest after priest until the last one admitted that there was no demon possession. He suggested praying that her hormones balance out by senior year. She’s fourteen. Help!
––signed, She Was a Beautiful Baby

Dear Mother of a Teen,

Your life would be so much easier if she was possessed. A demon fears God, respects Latin and leaves when ordered. Your daughter won’t even come downstairs for dinner. Keep the snacks stocked, don’t ask questions and for heaven’s sake, never gaze into a teenager’s phone! What you see will haunt you. She may not be possessed but that doesn’t mean her phone isn’t an instrument of the devil.
––Dotti 

Dear Dotti,

My neighborhood got a gourmet pickle bar. Is the end near?
––Signed, Pickles? Really?

Dear Pickle,

Yes. It is.

Try the Kool-Aid Pickle and soon you’ll be part of the “family.” If you remember this advice after your third corrupted cucumber, put your affairs in order. Pickle cults always turn sour.
––Dotti

Toodaloo till next time.

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