Search Results for: ask mother phawker

DEAR MOTHER PHAWKER, Ok, here’s the setup: Back in 1989, I was in a band and playing a show in Nuremberg, Germany, with three other bands. I was the only woman, hanging out in the dressing room, which was in a basement down a LONG hall, far away from anything. A dude from one of the other bands held forth with a long, rambling, liquor- and heroin-induced diatribe about how women didn’t belong in rock. OK, whatever, asshole. But then he threatened to rape me. There were eight other people in that room, all men, and not one of them […]

Yo-Yo Ma, I recently started dating this way hot Italian goddess from around the way, who just invited me over to her families’ Eagles-watching gathering this coming Saturday. Being as white as the driven snow, and perhaps not up to passing muster as the manliest of men (sorry, no blue collar callouses on these hands), I’m stressing the whole first impression thing. What do you suggest in regards to making that perfect first impression to Mamma Italiano and the boys? P.S. I also know nothing about football. Help! Signed, Whitey Dear ‘medigan, Kudos to you for thinking about this beforehand […]

Dear Mother Phawker, I know this time of year brings out the fun in family dysfunction for everyone, but this one’s a doozy. See, in my extended family there are three homosexuals. That’s not the problem, though. The thing is, they’re all very barely closeted and it drives me nuts. Each one of them has a partner, who is brought to family functions and introduced as “so-and-so’s friend,” despite the fact that these couples live, own houses and in one case, are raising a child together. Ma, I don’t begrudge anyone happiness and I’m glad my loved ones have found […]

Dear Mother Phawker: My wife is a member of a book club whose members meet once a month, rotating from one house to the next. Two weeks ago, my wife was the host, and I watched as our living room filled with about 10 women. I played a support role in the proceedings, keeping the refreshments flowing and the food bowls filled. Everything was fine until I bumped into one of the club members in the hall. We’ve been friends for several years, and she’s always been welcome in our home — maybe too welcome. She smiled at me and […]

Dear Mother Phawker, I’m an old busy lady who has lived in Philadelphia for about a 100 years. I’ve booked bands, written about them, and worked a billion other jobs, all of which put me in direct contact with the general public and a host of new faces on a daily basis. Because my look is unique, they remember me, and I sadly, do not remember them. (All dudes in Philly indie bands tend to look alike, and since there are not as many women in the scene, we tend to stand out more). The years of memorizing names, faces, […]

Dear Mother Phawker: Is it strange that at age 22 I feel like an old fuckin’ hag who’s too loose to hang? I know all you really old people tell me that I’m still young and whatever, but being in college for four years only to come out directionless and uninspired really makes a person feel used up and pointless. Not to mention, VH1 is already running an “I Love the ’90s” series, recent parties have been annoyingly pervaded by ditzy, younger girls with higher metabolisms, and I get tired if I don’t get a full seven hours’ sleep. All […]

Dear Mother Phawker, My boyfriend and I have been dating for almost a year, and we are deeply in love and truly committed to each other. We didn’t “do it” right away. We waited, like a month and a half. For me, that’s taking it slow. Anyway, like two or three months later, things started to get a little weird in the bedroom. Not like whips and chains weird. It started innocently enough when my boyfriend began making kung-fu sound effects while we were in the act, climaxing (so to speak) with a Bruce Lee “Hiiiii-YAAAAAAAAAA!” Things gradually got stranger […]

Dear Mother Phawker, What the fuck? I mean, really, what is the point of it all? Why do I even bother when everything in the world seems irretrievably fucked? Sign me, Hating Everyone And Everything In University City Dear Cranky O’Buzzkill, Given your address, I’m going to go out on a limb here and say you’re a college student. Which explains why you have the time to sit around having an existential crisis on a weekday morning, but whatever. I’m suspecting your angst is caused by either too much dope, too little sex, or a combination of both. In other […]

We are not your mother. Your mother is at home, watching “Deal or No Deal.” Sure, you could call and ask her, but that will just turn into a whole ‘thing’ — what with the shouting and the running and the exploding and the crying. Besides, your mom needs a break. Why do you think they sent you to college in the first place? And really, haven’t you asked her enough stupid questions over the years? Instead, direct all I-need-a-hug, it-hurts-when-I-pee and other how-to-deal inquiries to Mother@phawker.com. She loves you no matter what. Dear Mother Phawker, I’m having a problem […]