It has come to the attention of us here at

Library Industries™

that there are those on the web making false claim to the Throne of the One True Ming, Emperor of Mongo. It is our duty as Keepers of The Truth to present for history's alignment, betterment and pleasure the original "Ask Ming" advice column from Big Sky Fuck {zine} 1990 & 1991

from Big Sky Fuck #1, 1990:

ASK MING

confused by the weaving, sweeping, enfolding tapestry known as life? Ming, infamous ruler of Mongo, will be glad to help. address all inquiries to ASK MING, c/o BIG SKY FUCK, ### COLLEGE, DEKALB IL, 60115.

Dear ming,

I've got this problem. I'm experiencing feelings that are all new to me. You see, I feel strangely attracted to my roommate. I've never considered myself a homosexual before, so I don't know what to think. Should I confront her? Should I talk to my parents or even a psychiatrist? I'm very concerned about the social stigma involved with this type of decision.

You're the only one I trust, Ming.

Kathy.

Dear Kathy,

Your weak sexuality sickens me. It is insignificant. The points of my soldiers' spears will not discriminate. Sleep with the girl, for it is no matter. You will die the same death when my fingers ensnare your entrails.

Ming.

Dear Ming,

I'm a recent college graduate. My mother is a widow and I feel that she expects me to live at home with her now. I'm all she has left and I feel for her. I want to be there for her when she needs me. However, I also want to live my own life. I really need some advice. What should I do about my mother?

signed,

Confused in Connecticut.

Dear Confused,

Destroy her.

 

Dear Ming,

I'm a college senior. When I was a freshman, I met this girl, and, well, basically, we fell in love. She lived on my floor and we started seeing each other by the second month of classes. We would often stay up all night (I'll spare you the sultry details) and then watch the sun rise together.

To make a long story short, we'd been seeing each other ever since, until this past September. We got in a fight (I'll admit -- it was really my fault!) and now she wont talk to me at all. I want her back, but I don't want to grovel. Or at least I thought I didn't want to grovel. But every time the sun comes up, I feel a HUGE lump in my throat. What to do?

Signed,

Lovelorn at Sunrise.

Dear Lovelorn,

"…and, well, basically, we fell in love." Your cloying sentiments sicken me. What joy it would bring me to acquaint my scepter with that HUGE lump in your throat. Perhaps you humans are not as weak and powerless as I thought; you have actually made me, Ming the Merciless, cringe in disgust. I would rather suffer perpetual dysentery than endure your "sultry details." I have been spared, indeed.

I would like to tell you that a possible reunion with with your "loved one" would be meaningless; that my men will soon come to Earth and eradicate your race, leaving us more room to breed our pets, growing them to that size we like them to be when we crush them between our ankles on our favorite holiday. I would like to ask "Why? Why reunite with this earthling wench? So you could produce offspring that would require more of my soldiers' precious killing time? Don't bother, pathetic human." and so on in my regular flawless style. However, I fear that when my men land on your dainty planet they will be so repulsed by your fragile existences and your frail appearance that they -- despite being brave bloodthirsty dispatchers of death -- will flee like treacle running down a throat.

 

return next week as Library Industries reprints the Mongon advice from Big Sky Fuck # 2. the Sophomore Jinxed XMAS Issue!!

 

 

 

 

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