Q: I’m a late bloomer and it’s really hurting my social life. None of the boys will talk to me! How can I make them bigger? — Ashley, 13.

A: Ashley –- As you know, you go to junior high with the boobs you have, not the boobs you might want or wish to have at a later time. Now stop complaining and get out there and show everyone that a light, mobile, rapid-response pair of breasts is the best strategy.

Q: Hi Donald! My friend Kaitlin has been spreading rumors about me. But I don’t know what she’s been saying! All the girls have been looking at me like I’m psycho but I know it’s her. What should I do? — Monica, 14.

A: Monica –- Let me explain how the world works. There are known knowns. Kaitlin is a lying skank. This is a thing we know we know. But we also know there are unknowns. That is to say, we know there are some things we don’t know. Like Kaitlin’s whereabouts tomorrow around 3 p.m. And then there are the unknown unknowns. This would be Kaitlin’s ability to withstand a continuous stream of water pouring over her face before finally breaking. So get a bucket and go know some unknowns.

Q: Mr. Rumsfeld, I’m being pressured by my boyfriend to go all the way but I don’t think I’m ready yet. How can I tell him that without losing him? — Leslie, 15.

A: Let me tell you a story, Leslie. One time I was with my friend, let’s call her, oh, I don’t know…”Kindalisa.” And she was pressuring me, BIG TIME, to follow something called the Geneva Convention rules. And she kept nagging me, and nagging me, and I thought, “Should I give in? Everyone’s doing it, right?” Well, no, I didn’t give in. I held out for what I believed in. That’s called integrity, Leslie. And it’s the most precious gift of all.

Q: I don’t have a prom date! I totally hate my life. If I have to go with my brother, I’ll just die. What can I do? — Tania, 17.

A: Tania — You are being extremely narrow-minded. My sister and I had a lovely time.

Q: I hate my science teacher! He’s so mean. I was totally not talking in class but he made me stand in the corner facing everyone all period!! He’s totally picking on me!! What can I do about this? — Becky, 14.

A: That’s it? You stood in front of a room for 40 minutes? Trust me, sweetheart, you got off easy.

Q: I’m so mad!!! I think my boyfriend’s cheating on me! He always says he’ll text me and then he doesn’t. What’s up with that???? And my friends say they saw him with that slut Joanne at Taco Bell last night. How can I be sure if he’s sneaking around? — Angela, 16.

A: Angela, do you own a 12 volt battery and some electrode wires? Do you know what a scrotum is? I think I’ve said enough.

Q: I’ve been fighting with my best friend over a boy! And now I’m totally miserable. I want my best friend back! 🙁 Is there a way to know how long this fight will last? — Jessie, 16.

A: No, Jessie, I can’t tell you if the fight will last five days, or five weeks, or even five months. But it certainly isn’t going to last any longer than that.

Q: Who do you think is more awesome, Zak Efron or Cody Linley? My friend Janet says Zak but I think Cody is so much cuter!!! — Savannah, 15.

A: What are you, retarded? Zak. His callow looks, lithe physique and piercing blue eyes render obsolete all heartthrob rivals. Cody Linley? You might as well just tack up a poster of Osama Bin Laden on your wall.

Q: Hey! I wrote you earlier about my science teacher. Your advice was horrible! Where do you get off giving advice to anyone? — Becky, 14.

A: Where are you going to be around 3 p.m. tomorrow, Becky? I think my new friends Monica and Angela can help answer any questions you might have about my credentials.

We here at FOX are appalled by suggestions that Ms. Abdul was acting strangely on last night’s American Idol. Yes, Paula was emotional during and after several of the performances. But really, who wouldn’t be? Did you people not hear Sanjaya’s rendition of “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough”? What are you, made of stone? I mean, who wouldn’t be reduced to pawing at the face of the person next to you after a poignant moment like that? Or say anything other than rambling baby gibberish? And, if you go back and watch the episode closely, I think you’ll clearly see that Simon offered Paula his sleeve to use as a much needed Kleenex.

OK, show of hands. How many of you people are multi-platinum recording artists who danced next to an animated cat in one of the 80s’ seminal music videos? Hmmm? No one? Then perhaps none of you are really qualified to question why Paula was lying under the desk for half of last night’s show. And later appeared to be facing the wrong way. She’s an artist. And that’s how she gleans talent. This is a master at work, people. And when you think about it, it’s actually very Zen-like.

Regarding last night’s show: Paula has just informed us that only minutes prior to filming, Donald Trump phoned her and launched into a nasty tirade about her weight and suspect talent. While we were unaware of any feud, Paula has never given us any reason to doubt her credibility and, frankly, the man does have a track record. Knowing this, we are now embarrassed that we approached this brave woman before the show to inquire why she was picking through the trash for leftover Chinese take-out. Our suggestions that she probably not appear on that night’s show now seem callous. Thankfully, Paula is a professional and she wouldn’t hear of it. “The show must go on!” she slurred, literally biting the hands of a young P.A. attempting to restrain her from entering the set. Well, we here at FOX applaud her commitment to the show. Also, we can only assume that Paula’s disheveled hair was deliberately pushed into a comical comb-over in a furtive dig at Mr. Trump. Let’s all take a moment to say “Well played, Paula. Well played.”

Many of you might not know this, but Ms. Abdul served in 1990’s Operation Desert Storm. During her tour of duty, Lt. Abdul, as she was then known, was commanding an elite special-ops force when her team suddenly came under heavy enemy fire. Despite only being armed with a pen knife and some lip liner, she successfully took out several militants, even gutting one with her bare hands, before finally being taken captive. During this time, it is our understanding that she was subjected to brutal, systemic torture that left her psyche bent beyond repair. Sadly, somewhere in the middle of LaKisha’s performance of “Livin’ on a Prayer,” Ms. Abdul suffered a flashback to one of her many water-torture episodes and had what experts refer to as a psychotic breakdown. So, as should now be obvious, her spastic arm gyrations and repeated “No deal, Howie!” outbursts during last night’s telecast are entirely understandable.

We here at FOX salute you, Lieutenant.

Whatever. Look, you try chugging a 24 oz. Coke container full of Jim Beam and see how far you make it before passing out.

Thunder:

While the first half of this season has shown promise, management feels, given the history of this organization, that it’s best that we prepare for the inevitable collapse. As you are surely aware, times have been tough for the Warriors family. No championship since the ’74-’75 season. Thirteen years without making the playoffs. Top draft picks traded only to go on and produce for other teams. A coaching carousel. And an increasingly bitter fan base stung by prior promising starts that are most likely illegal under some type of bait-and-switch tort theory.

Well, we are leaving nothing to chance this season and have planned in advance for the forthcoming collapse. So, our lycra-clad friend, here are some things to keep in mind going forward.

First, a general note on your performance. There have been complaints from the front office that your enthusiasm had notably waned during last season’s second half debacle. Yes, we expect that from our fans. You, however, are not permitted this luxury. Did you really think we wouldn’t notice the frequent smoke breaks in the player’s entrance tunnel? Look, we don’t care how many fourth quarter collapses, defensive breakdowns, stagnant offensive series, comatose rebounding performances, missed free throws, apathetic box-outs, failures to rotate, blasé responses to full-court pressure, apparent boycotts against driving the lane or ill-advised three point attempts you are forced to watch, you will cheer them on. When the PA system blares “Get This Party Started,” you will get that party started. Or you may get unemployment started. Your call.

Second, as the playoffs slip even further from our fragile grip, we expect head coach Nelson to begin the annual “rebuilding phase” and turn to his bench to groom any potentially untapped talent. But, as you are probably aware, our drafts haven’t gone so well, leaving us a little thin on reserves. So, long story short, you should be ready to enter the game at a moment’s notice. No need to panic here. No one expects you to play defense, least of all Nellie. Just show some hustle, and maybe one or two of those high-flying dunks. (Although, to be on the safe side, please try to get in a little practice on these without the aid of the trampoline.) Plus, we hear this is how Mugsy Bogues got his start in the league so make the most of the opportunity.

Third, years of the customary “we’re out of contention” circa Groundhog Day have taken its toll on fan turnout. However, in order for our games to continue being broadcast, we need to have a minimum fan attendance. Thus, to prevent embarrassing television blackouts and to keep the ad revenue flowing, we have reached an arrangement to augment our fan base with “volunteer” fans from local rest homes and juvenile detention centers. Again, no reason to panic. Our new octogenarian friends should not impact your act much. Simply avoid hitting them with the T-Shirt bazooka. At the end of the game, they will simply be woken up by ushers and pointed toward the exits (as has been standard fourth quarter procedure for all fans at the Arena for years.)

The juvenile seat fillers will probably provide more of a challenge. If you simply refrain from direct eye contact you should be fine. However, and we cannot be more emphatic about this, DO NOT POINT THE T-SHIRT BAZOOKA DIRECTLY AT THESE FANS. If you do, expect counter fire and take defensive action immediately. In fact, no need to get the party started near that section.

Finally, and this is not a threat, but your contract does run at the end of this year. While we have no immediate plans to start looking, you might recall that management conducted a fan poll last season of possible mascot replacements. Top vote getters were team owner Chris Cohan’s head on a stick (unlikely) and Manute Bol. Again, not that we’re inclined to make any moves in that direction but we did think you should keep it in mind.

And Bol is available.

— Chris Mullin, Executive Vice President of Basketball Operations

I, Tom, take thee Katie, in the presence of our friends and family, including that couple standing in for your parents, and the almighty Xenu, to be my friend, my lover, the mother of my children and my wife.

I vow to love you so much, like a love that’s just, wow, serious love. Yeah! Like a climb on top of this altar, back-flip kind of love!

Oh, right, sorry, not that I would do that, as I also vow to “dial it back,” as you say, and, although I don’t personally see it, to “stop scaring people.”

To have and to hold you, in public, but no more than six times per week, and not by a vice-like neck squeeze or extended bear hug that, yes, would be more appropriate from a bounty hunter, and for which I’ve apologized, like, a hundred times.

To be your faithful partner in sickness and non-chemically-enhanced health, which is not just the same as sickness, no matter what anyone says.

For richer or poorer, but not richer than the amount clearly spelled out in paragraphs six through eight of the agreement, with options to vest after year ten.

To support you in your goals, personal and professional, including any Dawson’s Creek reunion special, but only if the script calls for Joey Potter to return to spread the gospel of L. Ron Hubbard, which, I think we both now agree, was a glaring omission in the series’ five year run.

To encourage and gently instruct one another in all new endeavors and activities, including, for example, at childbirth, where one of us might have forgotten about the “no talking” rule and, definitely, the “no swearing” rule.

To get to know you as a woman, as my wife and, fingers crossed, as an Operating Thetan VIII.

And to be together, from this day forward, for all eternity, under the eye, the all-watchful eye, which will always be watching, watching you, and I, together, all eternity, watching.

I Katie, take thee Tom, in the presence of our friends and your family, God, and, uh, that Xenu guy, to be my husband, my constant friend, my faithful partner and my primary handler from this day forward.

I vow to love and stand by you, and, as agreed, at all major premiers and award shows, and various other media engagements, but definitely not on Oprah, which has sort of a scene-of-the-crime feel now.

To be there for you in sickness and in health. And also, apparently, in recurring soul-crushing bouts of untreated depression.

For richer or poorer, but, regardless, paragraph seven and those options are fully binding and non-negotiable.

To be your companion and mate, but not your co-star in some poorly conceived romantic-comedy, because look how well that turned out for Ben and J. Lo, and I’m still young and viable in this industry, so forget that.

To encourage and gently instruct one another in all new endeavors and activities, including at, say, a Washington Redskins game, where one of us might have forgotten that in football it’s not called a three-point shot, and definitely to stop shouting “and one” throughout the game, because that got really embarrassing, especially since one of us was in a football movie, like, thirty years ago.

To grow together on our journey, and to really try hard for OT VIII, but, I’m not making any promises since you know how bad I am at tests and just getting to OT II took, like, a whole year.

And to stay with you, ’til death do us part. But, to be clear, not in that thetan way. You know, where you continue to live beyond the death of the body for millions of years. Because I have NOT signed on for that.

No matter what that eye thing sees.

To: Rosie O’Donnell

From: Bill Geddie, Executive Producer

Date: Friday, September 8, 2006

Re: Your First Week!!

Rosie’s back!!

Let me just begin by saying, once again, how excited we all are to have you on The View. Now, we all think this first week went pretty well, but there’s always room for improvement. So, please consider these notes as merely helpful suggestions designed to make your transition here as smooth as possible.

First, that whole Koosh Ball thing kind of died with your old show. Now, we appreciate the effort to reconnect with your fans, but it seems a bit out of place here. Plus, one almost hit Barbara in the head. We can’t stress enough how bad that would have been. In fact, just a general FYI for all future shows: Nothing should EVER come near Barbara’s head.

Also, it was difficult to tell, but were you napping during the “Hot Topics” segment? If uninterested in a particular topic, please just smile and head nod. And feet off the coffee table. At all times.

Wardrobe, Hair and Makeup. I know we agreed you could use your own people. And we certainly encourage all the hosts to cultivate their own personal style. But, as noted before, we are trying to achieve a certain aesthetic cohesion among the hosts. That said, I’ll simply end with a question: How do you think a mullet fits in with the others?

To: Rosie

From: Bill

Date: Friday, September 15, 2006

Re: Not Quite There Yet

Hmm. Well, let’s start with a positive. No Koosh Balls!

Moving along. We welcome spirited debate among the hosts. It has always been a hallmark of the show. And, of course, disagreements will flare up from time to time. But when you disagree with Elisabeth, it’s better to express that verbally. A caveat: “Suck it, blondie,” while a verbal response, is also not appropriate.

And definitely no more “two-for-flinching” punches. As you can see, Elizabeth bruises easily.

Finally, referring to Mrs. Star Jones Reynolds as that “psycho bridezilla” was kind of a backstage joke. Not for on-air. I’m pretty sure we had gone over that in pre-production.

To: Rosie O’ Donnell

From: Bill Geddie

Date: Friday, September 22, 2006

Re: Are You Reading These?

LESS ANGER. Would it help to have that on a permanent cue card?

Look, we get that “The Queen of Nice” moniker is officially retired. But how about “The Queen of Commonly Agreed Upon Standards of Decent Social Behavior?” That has a nice ring to it too.

And jeans? Again?

To: Ms. O’ Donnell

From: Mr. Bill Geddie, Executive Producer

Date: Friday, September 29, 2006

Re: You Are Contractually Obligated To Read This

No one authorized costume Fridays. (That was a costume, correct?)

Please stop asking guests to arm wrestle.

The set design may not be altered. Where did that Barcalounger come from?

And Elisabeth didn’t show up for work today and no one’s heard from her. Thoughts?