Tag Archives: kitty winn

Here in my car, I can lock all the doors

from the desk of kitty winn





Life is full of disappointments, eh? Cars are more trouble than they are worth. Kitty has switched to a rickshaw, since a good chaffeur proves so hard to find.

Friends like these

From the desk of Kitty Winn

Dear Kitty Winn,

I’m always on the outside looking in. I try to get people to like me, by making sure to say friendly hellos several times a day and buying them gifts. If I see a friend online, I always chat them up and involve them in my life. But even though I give and give, I am not always invited places. Sometimes I think people even leave the room when I appear. It’s enough to make me want to stay home and get really fat. What should I do to get people to like the real me?

-Insecure in Iowa

Dear Hamhock in Hell,

Social acceptability requires a thing called finesse. The Unabomber understood the power of the unwanted gift, so why can’t you? Making and maintaining friendships involves finding people with similar interests unfolding them slowly over time. Some people will begin to share your concerns and others will probably find you a bore and tell you to sod off. The trick is to distinguish the two, and cultivate the former. Unbelievable as it may sound, there truly is someone for just about everyone. Even ugly people!

Being a popular party guest, on the other hand, requires a knack for mixing drinks and a wit sharp enough to slice a wedge of lime. Enjoy your Ding Dongs.



Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow

Dear Kitty,

It’s been 10 minutes since my esteemed colleague left the firm, and my row,

forever, and already it is unbearable. How does one cope with such loss? I

feel like my life is over. I am sobbing uncontrollably. And on top of this

loss, the colleague I am left with harasses me mercilessly. Just today she

made insulting remarks about the size of my nose, for which I am very touchy


Can you help me?


Dear Anonymous,

I was very much moved by your letter, and I shall give you the name of my very own personal cosmetic surgeon. You shall walk away from this trauma with a perfect nose. One need not miss old friends when one has a beautiful face in the mirror to gaze upon with deep satisfaction. Or has their own television show.


Kitty Winn

Back in the Saddle

My Dear Troubled Readers,

It has been a grueling couple of months of self-denial at the Betty Ford. They would not let me smoke in the hot tub, and my massages with Nils did not include Happy End! But even though it was my own soul that lay troubled in a bed lacking Egyptian cotton, you people still had problems of your own. How selfish! Especially you unattractive lot- you are rather tempting fate to begin with by having concerns. (I will never forget the day I realized that ugly people have lives, too, I nearly fell in the shower!) In any case, I have returned to my manse and my refrigerator filled with champagne and I shall right your sorry, sordid worlds once more.

Dear Kitty Winn,

I did the unpardonable, the unthinkable, and have been swiftly punished. I read my girlfriend’s diary. And I found out she had not only cheated on me, but it seems she only decided to be with me when things did not work out elsewhere. Of course, this was all years ago, and we had what seems a happy and committed relationship since then. I confronted her and she lied through her pretty little teeth, even when she heard her own words quoted (unbeknownst to her). The bitter lesson for me here is that there must be skeletons like this within every coupling. That we end up together just as much by happenstance as driven by specific desire. My girlfriend is not a bad person, and she didn’t really do anything terrible, that’s just the way people are. The curtain has been lifted and I can no longer believe that there is anything magical about love.

-filled with inertia

Dear Inertia,

My, my, you are quite the philosopher! So, you are disheartened by the inconstancy of the human character? How on earth did you make it this long?! Well, well, we no longer feel special. You are just going to have to bear this one. Human beings are fickle and cruel, but they also have soft lips and will cook you a nice meal. You should have been enjoying what you had. Have a chocolate, and next time you collide into another woman’s life like a traffic accident, stay out of her private thoughts. And her underwear drawer.

-Kitty Winn

Anniversary in the Vomitorium

Vomitola is celebrating its Very First Birthday! As we look back upon a whole year of gay porn star country singers, spectacular outfits, visits to the pope, and anal leakage, one has to marvel at the variety and depth of our experiences. Or one could content themselves with marveling at our sleek hairdos.

But it hasn’t all been one grand binge ‘n’ purge! Vomitola has had its troubles, too. The deadlines, the screaming fights over which Queer Eye is our favorite, the endless offers of sex. Why, Kitty Winn is still in Rehab!

Running the show here is an intense drama. We wish to thank all of you who like to read about our triumphant shopping trips and our tumbles down flights of stairs. We do it all for you.

-xo with sugar on top

Vomitola offers you Meat

Dear Kitty Winn, health

Someone made this photo-collage of me and sent it to my email account. Should I imagine that I have enemies? Or is it in good humor? Paranoid in Montana…

Thanks, decease


(Note to the dear, malady gentle Reader- the photo-collage in question in question actually depicts a great, tumescent Schlong, so be warned if you are tuning in at work, or simply do not like to look at great, tumescent Schlongs.)

Dear “Richard”,

I see you are wearing some sort of sports cap. Apparently a Boston Red Sox cap. So humiliation and loss is something of a badge for you. You also admit to being both paranoid AND living in Montana- I could spend all day on this complex little nugget, but I will stick to your question, as I have a mimosa turkey brunch. So your face appears as a dainty cap, a Jimmy Hat as it were, on a massive Schlong. But this is not so much of a “letter from a foe”, as a friendly reminder that you are a Big Weenie.


Kitty Winn

…I know, I know, it’s seeeeerious

Dear Kitty Winn,

I am a single girl and I keep going to parties where I wind up drunk and passing out my phone number like it’s Pez. Then i live for a few days in fear and paranoia that boys with neck tattoos and wives are actually going to call me. Now, this would be my problem, except that none of these bedraggled suitors have even called! What gives?

-I know I’m unloveable

Sheila Take a Bow,

Buck up. Kitty herself was stalked by a mad Russian she entranced while doing a kicky Serbian folk dance at a party. But I mostly find that blacking out has the virtue of erasing all unfortunate acquaintances, and leaving me to start each day afresh, blissfully unaware of the doings of yesterday. You are lucky that Mr. Neck Tattoo does not lurk upon your doorstep- what would the neighbors think of your taste?

I am sure you have many charms in addition to being an alcohol sucking tartlet. If you can name at least two you can stop hurling song lyrics around. Try bowling instead.

-Kitty Winn

What would Martha do?

Ugh. I’ve got a hangover, and I only just started drinking. No, not *that* kind of hangover, a wedding hangover. That’s right, we’re still not done with our thank you notes. So if you didn’t get one yet, that means we dislike you intensely, and we found your gift terribly unimaginative and downright insulting. Oh, I keeeeeed. The list is in fact alphabetical (we are somewhere in the R-S range, we can’t help being popular), and I was foolish enough to think Mr. H might actually help with birthing them.

But then again, I married someone with a limited vocabulary. Hey, I’m not being mean, it’s just the truth. If I were with a man as verbose as I am naturally, we’d never get anything done because we’d be too busy trying to out-conversate the other. Why, it would be like being married to Lambchop. We ruled out same-sex marriage as a possibility years ago. A) she wouldn’t get the donkey dingle graft, and my hips are far too slinky to carry it off, and B) we’d never have sex anyway because we’d each be too busy trying to put on more makeup than the other. So Mr. H and I, we compromise. I explain the big words, like “abutters” and “that other one from the other day he didn’t know,” and he makes dinner. But he does know enough to say “You’d better not be making fun of me on your stupid website.”

Now, Kitty Winn says that the secret to a good thank you note is to create your own custom attractive letterpressed notes, and also to lie, lie, lie. For instance, the truth is not always suitable for print:

“Dear Aunt Hilda,

thank you for remembering us on our special day. I’m sorry to hear that what you purchased to commemorate it is “too heavy to mail,” but I eagerly await the day you drop it off at my mom’s house several states away from me. I am sure it will make a lovely addition to her hall closet, be it a solid block of obsidian or a mastadon femur. I really hope it’s breakable! We’ll see you at Christmas.


-Helen & Mr. Helen”

No, no, that simply won’t do. What am I going to say? I have no idea. But Mr. Man also knows enough to open a second bottle of wine, so I’m sure it will sort itself out. If you are in the lucky R-Z last name category, you can look forward to a sloppy, drooled-upon note in a few days time. But we ran out of the nice letterpressed ones, so T.S.. Note to self: next career — purchase letterpress!


For whom the dole tolls

Dear Kitty Winn, check

I hate my job, ailment but it keeps me in mascara and Marabou mules. Sleeping under my desk has failed to score me an unemployment check, drugs and I am uncertain as to how to proceed with something so tiresome as “My Future”, were I to simply quit. What should I do?


unskilled at all things legal

Dear Unskilled,

Something has been dreadfully amiss in your education. Why do you not know that mascara and mules are things that men pay for?! The fiscal responsibility for your loveliness belongs to your clock punching love monkey. Must Kitty draw you a road map to his wallet? Job, indeed. The only reason for having one of those is because we look so smart in tweeds and it is occasionally good to have to rise before noon.

If work is getting you that down however, it is time to inform your mate that you will be staying at home until Fox offers you that special you have been talking of. Be prepared to offer him something in return, however- it might be as workaday as frequent fellatio, or as demanding as you getting sprogged up. Kitty Winn is not a huge fan of infant spew, teletubbies, or the handling of rubber feces-filled pants. But that is a very personal choice.

Good luck and let me just add “Gold Card”.

-Kitty Winn

Seasick, yet still docked…

Dear Kitty Winn,

I have a hangover the size of a Buick Espace. The I-hate-myself-maybe-I-ought-to-hang-myself kind. What should I do?

-drowning girl

Dear Drowning,

I hope you are not waiting for word from Kitty before you begin to introduce your body to water! You clearly need copious amounts of it. In fact, go sit in some. And while you are there, look to your arsenal of skin and hair products for your redemptive ablutions. Once you are soft, warm, and lightly scented, you will begin to love yourself again. Unless you are horribly unloveable, in which case neither Kitty nor Sephora can help you and you should probably fix yourself another drink as quickly as possible. Hair of the Dog, as they say!

Most importantly, do not despair! If Kitty thought of topping herself everytime she woke up dry mouthed in a spinning room with her boots still on, she would be as tiresome as a Smiths-loving teenager. You’re going to have to take this on the chin, love.


Kitty Winn