Since it's 91 degrees in the shade here at the Southern Regional Branch of FOC Dorothy Unlimited, where our motto is "Get me some cold water before I pass out from heatstroke," we the Hardest Working Image Builders In RATSA, reckoned we'd just as soon not rail on like blithering idiots about how come Our Miss Hayes is so kind to take time out of her busy schedule -- tending to her hapless brother Roger's broken leg. Instead, we're all heading down to the bar for a few cold longnecks. But don't tell Dorf that we fell off the wagon, 'kay? She's kinda Quaker-y that way.

And now, this week's advice parade masquerading as Ask FOC Dorothy:

FOC Dorothy writes: "I'm really, really sorry I didn't get around to answering a lot of e-mails last week. RJ needed a back rub and then some of his other muscles got, um, cramped, and...uh, anyway, I was busy doing other...stuff. So I've got a lot of catching up to do this week -- before RJ's medication wears off. By the way, does saltpeter have side effects? Hmmm..."

Dear Dorothy:
I don't think you know me. My name is Cristian Vega and I don't know -- everything feels weird right now. I used to be kinda short and squat and passably cute in an "I'm Drinking Milk And Someday I'll Be Big And Strong" sort of way. Now, every time I look in the mirror, I see I'm turning into a taller, chiseled hunk loaded with Latino machismo. Jessica liked me just fine the way I was and I'm worried my sudden change of appearance will shock her into deciding to never, ever go "all the way" with me. I'm also afraid my brains will turn to mush and I won't even have the good sense to pass off those artistic renderings by some poor anonymous staff dude as my "own" stuff. !Aye caramba!

Dear Cristian:
Sounds like you're just experiencing a bad case of rapid soap opera puberty. It'll pass, but you'll never quite feel like "you" again. I wouldn't freak over what Jessica will think. I mean, she's never quite sure what Kevin's going to look like when he walks through the doors of Llanfair. Or Joey, for that matter. She's a trooper; change doesn't faze her. I wouldn't take any "pool-cleaning" jobs from Dorian, though, if you know what I mean. Don't tell my Dad I said that.

Dear Dorothy:
Since I already used up my one phone call, I figured I could at least put my one personal e-mail to damn good use. I don't know if you read about my "guilty" plea in the papers there, but it's all over Llanview now. My wife, Nora, says she'll never trust me again and I'm already in the soup with my stepdaughter Rachel and my best buddy Hank, who was prosecutin' me for a crime I didn't commit, even though I went and said I did. I reckon your old man will start sniffin' around for a story out of this, so just keep it under wraps that I'm not really an adulterous, murderin' nut, okay? I always thought you were a nice, pretty girl. You datin' anyone? My son Drew isn't the sharpest tack but since he came back to town, he's a lot more cleaned up and havin' himself a smart girlfriend wouldn't hurt him. Wish me luck in the slammer.

Dear Bo:
Everything will turn out okay for you, I'm sure. But my dad will probably find out your plan eventually; he likes to know it all, too. Your son Drew already e-mailed me once and he seemed nice. I wouldn't mind meeting him. He's not, um, dating anyone himself, is he? Like, uh, Kelly? Just checking. No, no...forget that. I'm already involved with someone else who was recently erased from the OLTL canvas, RJ Gannon. You know him, right?

FOC Dorothy concludes: "*sigh* There's just not enough time to get around to all these great e-mails every week. It's okay; I can just take my time. Lots of people in Llanview have lots of problems for me to drag my heels over. Oops! Gotta go now. I hear the soft saxophone solos of Grover Washington, Jr., coming from RJ's room and I'm suddenly feeling kind of...jazzy. Okay, RJ! I'm on the way! No, I'm not wearing that "sterile" white thong! Well, maybe just this once..."

Posted to rec.arts.tv.soaps.abc June 3, 1998
FOC Dorothy is Mandi (mandia@earthlink.net )

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