Mad Mike's Madder Mail

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Some say that he once lost an arm wrestling match to a vampire wearing a banana costume and that, quite unbelievably, his testicles are twice the size of the smallest known moon...

All we know is, he's called MadMikeMarsbergen...


"Dear M-Triple,

So my mum says that vampires and werewolves and zombies and ghosts and shit don't exist but I mean what does she know, amirite? I mean the other night when I thought I was alone I was rubbing one out when I felt something hard and cold force its way into my arsehole and I like, splooged right away. The weird thing is that there was literally no one else there. I don't even know what happened. I felt so violated but it felt soooo good.


I mean, yeah... Sooo basically what I wanna' know is, can you catch an STI when a ghost fucks you in the ass with a dildo?"
—Confused and Horny.



Howdy, Confused & Horny—I'm a big fan. Answering your question depends on some questions of my own. First off: Are you positive it was a dildo? I only ask because ghosts don't normally use dildos in their assaults on the living, but it is known that ghosts can fashion ectoplasmic penises, pussies, tits and buttholes if they're horny enough. So what you may have been pounded by was a ghost cock. Did it leave a thin, translucent grey-green goo dripping from your b-hole? If you haven't yet bathed and still have it on you, take a little dab on your finger and give it a good whiff. If it smells like those weird Sticky Hand toys—like a slimy rubber that's been up your ass all night—then I'm sorry to tell you: You were banged by a ghost. But life doesn't have to end here. Confused & Horny, many people have lived long, productive lives with ghosts as their rapists or romantic partners. Sure, it takes a bit of effort, but it can work.


And if there's no dried ectoplasm around your asshole, then the only answer I can come up with is that you were fucked by an invisible man. If that's the case, carry around a big bag of flour at all times, as those bastards get rowdy often, and they don't care when or where. You could be saying a eulogy at your daddy's funeral and suddenly you'll get thrown over the coffin, have your pants yanked down and... Well, you know the rest.


Good luck, and write to me at Christmas so I know you haven't died of ghost AIDS. Anyway, I guess that last bit sort of answers your question about STIs...



"Graaaaaghaghnnn.... I need you, MadMike. I need you to help me with this long, hard shaft of mine. You've got me pinned down here. Right below the head. Mmmm... Mmmmmmmmm.... Num-num-num. Come help me, baby. Electrify me... I'll be your monster, and you can be my master."
—Frankie Stein


I told you not to contact me through public channels, Frankie... Meet me at The Spot when I finish replying to these letters. I'll electrify you with a jolt of the good stuff. And bring your mom. She could use a blast of excitement, too.



"Dear mike madder


When I first heard of you column it was because a copy if it was lying over my face when I awoke it a ditch. It took me awhile to move again because I had been dead earlier. I know I was dead because I remember dying. (It sucks and no I don't want to talk about it) Now I must say that I was a surprised as anyone that I woke up. But I hear that happens when your hitchhiking through Transylvania.

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