A Solid Call 2.0

Ask The Mars Volta :
We have a very special treat for you this week. The Mars Volta stopped by the ASC editorial complex to answer some relationship e-mails from you the readers. Here's what went down.

Dear Mars Volta,

I'm having a problem with a guy at work. Somehow he got my home phone number and started calling me. I don't mean he called once or twice; he called once or twice EVERY HOUR for weeks. It got so bad I'd make excuses to get off the phone or have my roomates tell him I was out. I'd have no problem telling him to stop, but he has a very big mouth and every time someone disagrees with him, he calls them a racist. I feel helpless for fear he'll spread rumors about me.

Signed,
Stalked in Sacramento

Dear Stalked,

In denial who will come clean all the ravenous debris. In disguise sideswiped by penance cerecloth sentencing this scapegrace will pay my barking harangue... are you listening? On the 14th you stole what hasn't grown old. In denial, file this under a bridge that he can't leave will those shadows glare from that blank- rimmed stare in a vacancy hush.

Dear Mars Volta,

I am a 36-year-old mother of three and have lived with "Phillp" for 12 years. Phil has always promised he'd marry me "someday," and I believed him - until last Valentine's Day.

I had been dropping hints about how romantic it would be if he proposed on that day. He took me to a fancy restaurant. I was so happy, because I thought this was it.

My heart was pounding all through dinner because I thought this would be the night. But that's as far as it went! When we were walking to the car, I finally said, "You're not going to pop the question, are you?" He then removed a tiny ring from his pocket and said, "This is a promise ring. I promise to marry you - someday."

I was devastated. Am I wrong to expect this man to make a legal commitment?

Signed,
Mother of His Children in North Dakota

Dear Mother,

You've got the lot to burn. A shelve of pig smothered cries. Is there a spirit that spits upon the exit of signs? Is anybody there? These steps keep on growing long bayonet trials, rust propellers await .

No, nobody is heard. Rowing sheep smiles for the dead. Nobody is heard, an antiquated home afloat with engines on mute. Sui generis ship spined around the yard. Is anybody there? These craft only multiply at the nape of ruins rust propellers await.

Well, there you have it. Keep asking the tough questions, and maybe The Mars Volta will stop by from time to time to give you the wisdom you'll need to make it through.