It's not that we're slackers... we're just THAT. DAMN. GOOD.

Have we disappeared?

No.

Have we taken the show on the road and decided to come dole out the ass-kickings in person?

No.  Although that could be fun...

Have our collective heads exploded from all the baby daddy drama and "The Best of Jerry Springer" caliber of relationship decisions some of you people make?

Shockingly... no.  But sometimes we want to throw rocks at you.  Just so you know.

You have no questions for us.  And so we have no answers for you.  Because we have fixed every. damn. problem. you. have.  (As far as I know... I'm not the techical brains behind this corner of the internet, I'm just the big boobs and blue eyes.)

So send your questions to us at wethreebitches(at)yahoo(dot)com.  We know you're really sitting on your couch with a week's worth of cheeto dust coating your hands while either quivering uncontrolloble or staring slack jawed at the television wondering how you could have made such a mess of your life.  And also what is it that is so damn interesting about Paris Hilton and why isn't she still in jail for her crimes against humanity?

Fear not!  Stand up!  Let in the light!  Put down that remote control and fight through the pins and needles in your legs!  Drag your sorry ass off the floor, un-Chester-Cheetah-fy yourself and for the love of god don't forget to wash behind your ears!  Find your computer under that mess of wine bottles and empty cans of whipped cream and send us your cry for help!

We'll be waiting.