Ask Sparkles

Who is Sparkles?

Sparkles is a former 9 to 5 working girl from AnyCity, USA.
A real go-getter who spent much of her life in the fast lane, she got fed up with the emptiness of corporate life, and she went searching for a more meaningful existence.    

She traveled through many different cities and small towns across the countryside in her S-shaped car that runs solely on moonbeams and pixie sticks.  

Sparkles can remove sidewalk cracks just by stepping on them, and she enjoys reading anything from Flip That Cell: Decorating Tips For Jailbirds   to   What Your Astrologist Isn't Telling You. 

She has taught the crankiest of camels how not to spit. 

Sparkles enjoys champagne with her cereal.  She counsels caterpillars at a local halfway cocoon.  And in her free time, she volunteers at a dolphin rehab clinic, helping them develop better attitudes and curb their tuna addictions in a safe and loving environment.

Sparkles has been known to offer great advice and head-scratching feedback because she simply sees all people and creatures as inherently good, from the PeggySue Type A Personality all the way to the common criminal.  "Some just need a little more fine tuning," is her motto.

Her most recent role has been that of consultant and therapist for the beloved characters of Disney.  When asked about it, she quoted,

"It's not all Teacups and 'Small World' singalongs at the happiest place on Earth.  There are animals, heroes, children, and villains who all need advice from time to time.  They keep me pretty busy."     

Dear Sparkles,
I am not sure what to do.  Mickey doesn't know about this, but I can't stand the dog food he's been feeding me and I don't have the bark in me to tell him.  I've been trying to cut out carbs and sugar because I'm concerned about my health.  I don't have 9 lives like Lucifer and the Aristocats, and the dog years are really compiling.  How can I tell Mickey though without hurting his feelings?
Sincerely,
Pluto

Dear Pluto,
First of all, I don't care what those textbook editors are smoking, don't you ever let anyone tell you you're not named after an actual planet because you ARE!  We can't just go leaving off the last word of important phrases about my very educated mother like that.  Ok, back to your problem.  Pluto, Iams may look like Whoppers and crunch like water chestnuts, but it definitely won't solve your movie theater concession crisis OR tasty up a tossed salad.  I don't blame you.  Perhaps go to Minnie first.  Compliment her cooking.  Tell her you'd like to try more of that.  And have you seen the price of Purina?  Tell them you're trying to save them a little money, and suggest they use the savings for that home remodel in the Magic Kingdom they've been dreaming about.  But lastly, Pluto, be careful.  If you bite the gigantic 4-fingered hand that feeds you, it could also backfire.  And I would hate to see you give up your life of luxury by joining Snoopy, Bruno, and the rest of the real world dogs in a 4 foot by 4 foot pen.  Trust me, you ain't got it too shabby there.  Good luck!   
Smooches,
Sparkles    

Dear Sparkles,
I'm writing to you from under my bed.  I'm hiding out as I just can't face one more moral dilemma from that long-schnozzoled, pretty little liar, Pinocchio today.  He just won't let me rest, and I'm constantly having to remind him wrong from wronger.  Just this morning, Geppetto told him to finish the yardwork, but noooooo.  That long-snouted whiner wasted all his time snap-chatting with Alice in Wonderland, and he wants me to cover for him and tell the old man that he was sick in bed with a headcold.  I can't take this kid anymore, Sparkles.  I'm gonna crack.
Seriously Sick of It,
Jiminy Cricket

Dear Jim,
Firstly, what the dilly is the difference between a cricket and a grasshopper anyway?  I've always wondered.  Nextly, I've got your solution for little Pine Eyes.  There's nothin' worse than a lyin kid, that's for sure.  I'm giving you the number, and it's a direct line, for Donald's Angel/Devil Duo.  Their work load has been lighter lately and they can take a few of your needy clients off your hands for as long as you wish.  Then, I'm making you an appointment with my best bug masseuse.  She specializes in little limbs, and it'll help you relax.  Take a breather.  And you and Geppetto go have a nice baked spaghetti dinner.  You deserve it.
Call Me Maybe,
Sparkles


 








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Perhaps we could all benefit from a little more "sparkle" in our lives.