Tuesday, 9 November 2010

Advice Column Straight From Hell!!!

We're happy to have with us today, Miss Havana. We met Miss Havana through her...uh...uh...agent, yeah, that's good...we met her through her agent, Mr. James Hatch. James knows Miss Havana intimately it would seem, and he's explained to us that she's quite a gal. She likes to give advice, and it appears that her experiences deem her top dawg when it comes to doling it all out.

For a closer look at books by James Hatch click HERE. You can find James and Miss Havana at these places:








The Amiable Miss Havana

So, you want to know my qualifications for giving advice? WTF? Did anyone ever ask Abby or Ann anything like that? So what makes me a target? Because I’m prettier? Asking me a question like that is like asking what makes the four women who own this site strong? I’m strong, but you’ll notice the name here isn’t Five Strong Women. Maybe they couldn’t find a fifth, or didn’t even look? I was certainly available.

But rather than point fingers, let’s just say I’ve been through Hell and that uniquely qualifies me. No. Really. I’ve been through Hell. Lucifer was my “man”, if you can call that shithead a man. Living in his lair didn’t get me a website, but it made me strong to survive...and gave me a daughter. You might get to meet her one day if you play your cards wrong, but that’s another story. Fact is, going to Hell isn’t recommended, and my time with Lucifer isn’t what got me there in the first place—it only gave me a new perspective, attitude being everything.

Mostly it was the life I led before that catastrophe that gives me the experience to enlighten others, at least in terms they can understand. That was when I actually liked men, or better, liked what they could do for me. Face it, the “other side” didn’t give me this beautiful exterior just to have me squander it working as a bank teller, did they?

Okay, so I ruffled a few feathers, and perhaps a drug deal or two went south. BFD. It could happen to anyone. I was a substitute teacher during the week, and a party girl on weekends. My students learned, or faced my whistling paddle. On weekends, Chicago pulled out all the stops—the Windy City was my playground. And play I did. It’s just unfortunate there were so many bad sports, or I’d still be racking up profits and destroying lives. Mine was a short life, but so chocked full of experience I can barely cram it all in the advice I offer now—advice you’ll never get from Ann or Miss Manners!

The Best Advice You’ll Ever Get

As you read my pearls of wisdom, there are only two rules. First, if you argue with the advice I give, you are wrong. Second, don't ever take me seriously. If you do, then we are one and the same.

Dear Miss Havana: My significant other lets his nose hairs grow to the point they look like bottle brushes. He refuses to trim them. What can I do? Sincerely, Frustrated Metrosexual.

Dear Frustrated: Yeeeuch! I can see why this might bother you, but here’s a quick and easy solution. Wait until he’s asleep, and then fire up your trusty butane cigarette lighter. Depending on nose hair density, a controlled burn could be tricky. You’ll need to be quick because the conflagration could crown, but it is possible to completely clear both nostrils before he’s fully awake. You can do the ears later.

Dear Miss Havana: My boyfriend uses the phrase “Let ‘er rip” before he farts. He believes that’s acceptable, but I believe it’s crude. Can you resolve this conflict? Yours truly, Curious in Quebec.

Dear Curious: Yes, I can. “Let ‘er rip” is a phrase used during the bikini waxing process, just ask any Brazilian. It’s a warning. That’s probably the reason your boyfriend uses it before he farts, kind of like “Fire in the hole!” As an aside, you might get control of this endearing aspect of his behavior by reminding him it’s much easier to blame others for the stench if he keeps his mouth shut.

Dear Miss Havana: How can I stop my husband from standing up to pee? He has a frigging ten-foot splatter pattern! Help! Yours, Chamber Maid to his Highness.

Dear Chamber Maid: I sense a little anger here, but you have the power. Grow a pair, so to speak, and demand he clean the damn crust from the walls himself. This problem is a macho thing, where the extent of the splatter and the amount of testosterone are directly proportional. Tell him his penis will friend him on MySpace if he doesn’t clean up his act—that this behavior is about to go on your top ten list…along with not screwing him.

Dear Miss Havana: My husband farts at night and I can hardly breathe. What can I do? Gasping in Georgia.

Dear Gasping: First, be prepared. Be sure to keep a flashlight handy to ensure he hasn’t shit the bed. If not, slither out and toss a match into the cloud from a distance.

Coming Soon

Miss Havana, Lucifer, and their daughter, Lilith, are the main characters in “The Substitute,” James' latest novel that will soon be released by Solstice Publishing. The book is a side-splitting romp through the end of Miss Havana’s life, and her introduction to purgatory and Hell. “The Empress of Tridon” will also be released in the next week by xoxopublishing.com. Direct interaction with God is an interesting aspect of this Sci-Fi novel, especially when viewed from His point of view. The heroine, Eve, directly confronts God, and learns the fatal down side of doing so. The plot is extremely complex, but the reader will be delighted when he comes to grips with it.

If you’ve made it to the end of this blog, thank you for your time and interest. Thank you also Marci, Faith, Tess, and Sarah at Four Strong Women for hosting me today.

If any commenters would like to ask Miss Havana any questions--got a problem that needs solving--ask away. I'm sure she'd be more than happy to oblige!


Sarah Masters said...

Dear Miss Havana,

My neighbour squeals like a pig while having sex. I can hear this unsightly noise through the wall. How do I broach the subject with her?

Sincerely, Sickened Sarah from Somewhere-or-Other


Faith said...


I was reading this blog aloud to JadeyKiss, my 18-yr-old dau, and was laughing so hard I could barely speak! When I got a grip on myself and could read it clearly, JadeyKiss laughed so hard she was hanging onto the kitchen chair.

I've had such a sh**ty Tuesday, so this laugh came at a good time!

Abigail-Madison Chase said...

I have laughed so hard I almost peed my pants!

Anthology Authors said...


I think Miss Havana should replace Dear Abby's daughter, who is a yawn and a half.

Anonymous said...


I'm laughing so hard I have tears rolling down my cheeks.

Great post!

Anonymous said...

Dear Miss Havana,

Would you recommend the "fuck me pumps," or the "don't fuck with me boots" for the Tuesday night PTO meeting? The agenda is fund raising and nondenominational holiday hoopla.

Luscious Lusha or after happy hour
Lusha the Lush

James L. Hatch said...


Thank you for your carefully thought out and skillfully crafted questions. They will be answered in graphic detail when my Reaper's Door page opens soon, perhaps even tomorrow: http://mlmrdenter.blogspot.com/. Look for weekly inputs and advice you won't find ANYWHERE else.

Miss Havana

Cassie Exline said...

Dear Miss Havana,

The last time I asked for more foreplay, hubby wiggled four fingers and played. Yes, it was fun, but that's not what I meant. Help!

Classy Cassie

Miss said...

Dear Sickened:

Oh, crap! You just can't leave some things to a male. Fine, I'll do it myself. Ignore James' comment; what's he know anyway?
First, about the pig squeals. I recommend you invite your neighbor to dinner. Serve roast pork. Then, during dessert, casually bring up the pig slaughtering process. Throw in a few examples of those horrific squeals, and casually mention that those noises can penetrate apartment walls easily. Then ask if she's been killing pigs at night because it sounds like a damn slaughterhouse over there. You should have good sleep thereafter!

Miss said...

Dear Luscious. Even your name makes me want to know you. Okay, about the shoes. Your selection depends on your objectives. If your objective is to avoid tasking of any kind, I'd definitely go with the 'Don't fuck with me' boots. On the other hand, if there's someone who interest you in a special way on that board, DEFINITELY go with the 'fuck me' ones. But remember, no white after labor day!

Tess MacKall said...

Dear Miss Havana,

Short of stripping naked and serving yourself up on a silver platter on a dining room table, what's the best way to let a man know you're interested and avoiding all the slutty stuff?

Signed...Tired of games, but still want to play.

Miss said...

Dear Classy Cassie

Be agressive. Explain to him that a bird in the hand IS NOT worth two in the bush under any circumstance, regardless of what that damn Geico add claims. The guy that thought that little lie up didn’t have a clue.

Miss Havana said...

Dear Tired of Games.

I though Harrison Ford said it best in Six Days, Seven Nights, to wit, 'We're guys, all a girl has to do is show up'. But if that doesn't work, be sure the silve platter is NOT a chafing dish. By the way, do you own any 'fuck me' pumps?

Tess MacKall said...

Or is that "a bush in the hand is worth more than anything anywhere else"?????

Miss Havana said...

Oh, Tess, you wicked thing, but my encounters with males indicate you are right on!

Ghost93 said...
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