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Archive | 10:28 pm

Mr. Know-It-All: Teen Edition!

8 Nov

from October 2, 2006

Mr. Know-It-All: Teen Edition!

Today, I’ll take a stab at helping the, frankly, helpless teenagers of today. I just watched “Rock and Roll High School” with the Ramones so I feel that I am uniquely qualified to help the youth of today.

 Here’s our first loser:

“My Friend Is The Worst Gift Giver?”

My best friend that I’ve known for almost 8 years is the worse gift giver when it comes to me. I dont mean to sound ungrateful or greedy but I think when someone gives a gift it suppose to come from a good intention. I really dont care about the gift so much but it bothers me that she doesn’t think or takes the time to look for something for her best friend. Every time she gets me something is like she just goes into a store and first thing she sees she gets. Also, she is always telling me the great things she bought for her boyfriend or one of her family members and it bothers me that she puts me lastly. There was one Christmas where she bought me a small little shirt that is meant to be worn under clothes and later she called me and told me that I could wear it with some jeans.

I dont want to be mean with her or hurt her feelings but somehow I feel like I need to tell her. I always spent time looking for the perfect gift to give to her and it hurts me that she doesn’t seem to do that too. How should I tell her how I feel or if I shouldn’t tell her at all? Thank you

GAH! As an English teacher, I must inform you that I have simply copied the letter as it appeared on teenadviceonline.org. Do not, in any way, think for a second that I am responsible for all the grammatical errors. As a compassionate advice columnist, I have this to say:

Simply turn the tables. Buy her a crappy gift and then wait for her to complain. Then you’ve got her! Once she has the nerve to open her stupid mouth, drag out all the crappy gifts you got from her. Tell her how much she sucks at gift giving. Tell her how you hate everything about her. Really unload, let it all out. This is your chance to finally get even for a the garbage your so-called “best friend” has given you. Remember in sixth grade when she stole your Hello Kitty notebook? Remember when your mother took you both to Great Adventure and you got sick on the pirate ride and she left you there all alone puking into a trash can? Remember when you both got picked up by mall security for shoplifting and she got away by running out the back door, letting you get hauled in? And what about when you got caught with her pot in your backpack and your parents thought it was yours and grounded you for a week and made you miss the big concert that everyone was going to, especially that cute guy you sit behind in science? (Mr. Know-It–All knows all!) Smack her a little. Or a lot, whatever it takes*. You’ll feel better and she’ll get the idea. Give the gift of bad giving a kick in the ass. 

*Mr. Know-It-All in no way endorses violence. No matter how often he advises it.

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And here we go with our next youngster:

“Getting Drunk to Fit In With Friends?”

I have a really bad habit! i have just recently stopped hanging around with these girlz in my year! and i have been out with some new people! now these new people are 5 years older then me, and are into drinking! I’m very shy and unless i have a gud few drinks down me i wont talk at all, so every nite we go out, i ALWAYS get drunk, just so i can have a good time!

now this might sound as if im being daft and it can be prevented by either not hanging around with these people or stop drinking, but its really good fun with these people but i think i am putting my body in danger by drinking as much alcohol as i do!

please dont say to me that i shud tell anyone or i shud stop myself cause its not as simple as that! i just want a simple resolution, which involves step by step instructions 2 help me stop this habit but in a progressive way!

You sound like fun! Let’s assume that you’re 18 so I’m not a perv or anything. So much good comes from drinking! When you’re drunk, EVERYONE IS YOUR FRIEND! After all, you are so funny and sexy when you’re drunk. You’re on top of the world- no troubles or worries! You feel good and get to go to so many new places. Just think of all the new men you’ve met and the new beds you’ve slept in. Got an std? You’ll get to meet some nice doctors too. Look, if drinking was so bad, no one would do it. Go for it. Ever meet any fun non-drinkers? They don’t exist! Trust me- anyone who doesn’t drink is really missing out. By your own words, you are fun and not shy when you drink. You want step by step instructions? Here they are: 1- pour a drink. 2- drink it. 3- repeat.

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Next up:

“Opposite Sex be Friends?”

Can two people of the opposite sex be friends without being intimate?

Hmmmm, this is an age-old question that has plagued man since the first caveman met his caveman friend’s wife. Short answer- yes, but what’s the point? Long answer- Yes, but it isn’t always easy. Being friends with a girl (I’m speaking from the guy’s point of view, d’uh) isn’t like being friends with a guy. Like any two people, a guy and a girl can be friends because of any number of reasons. However, there may or may not be the added bonus of sexual attraction. If there is none, fine, a guy and a girl can be friends. If there is, then a relationship may blossom from the friendship. Also fine. Where it gets tricky is when one of them feels more for the other than the other does for the former. (“Other, former” yeah, I think I got that right.) If that happens then the man can really make an idiot of himself and ruin things. (Not that Mr. Know-It-All has had an experience like that, no no no. Not me.) Bottom line- Men and women can be friends. Just be careful. There is also the option of “friends with benefits” where you can sleep with your friend and still have it be just that- a friendship, nothing more. Mr. Know-It-All has not mastered that yet.

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How about another?

“Do About Vaginal Odor?”

I have been noticing more and more odor from my vagina. I have tried almost everything to get rid of it but it always comes back. I wash it at least 2 times a day and try to keep it as dry as I can. I’m starting to feel very gross. My boyfriend says its fine but I think it is keeping us from doing the things that a couple should do. Please help stop my odor.

Man, I love letters like this. Is it wrong of me to laugh? It is? Oh, sorry.

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Batter up!

“Bowel Movements Per Day?”

How many times should an average person do #2 a day?

Now this is a serious question. According to askdrkoop.com, the answer is “There is no average. Everyone is different.” For the record, Mr. Know-It-All averages 2-3 per day, regularly.

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We’re on a roll now:

“Birthday gift for Dad?”

My Dad’s birthday is coming. I would like to buy him something different and nice. I have one thousand ruppees to spend. He is a simple man and would not like any hoopla about his birthday. What gift would make him feel good?

female 16 yrs.
India

One thousand rupees is about ten bucks, right? Hmm, ten bucks in India. Perhaps a new tie? A tie is universal, isn’t it? A cheap gift in the U.S. is a cheap gift in India, right?

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And now, this:

“Get Parental Consent for KKK?”

PLEASE KEEP AN OPEN MIND WHILE READING THIS!!! I am a straight up racist. Here is the problem…I want to join the KKK but since i’m only 15 1/2 I can’t unless I have parental consent which is completely understandable. My parents dont know that I am racist and I recently asked them what they would do if I ever did join the KKK and they said that they would literally disown me. See… If i did join the KKK i would feel guilty for betraying my parents but if I didn’t join then i would feel guilty for not joining. I just dont know what to do because my heart is set on joining the KKK once I’m 18 but I don’t want to upset my parents…What do I do????

Wait- the KKK requires parental consent? Like a field trip?

Listen punk- if I ever catch you you’ll wish you never met Mr. Know-It-All. I’ll stuff your head so far up your ass you’ll be wearing your own sphincter as a party hat.

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Let’s wrap this up:

“Tell Brother About Death of Grandmother?”

My great grandmother died. Everyone knew it was coming and I had prepared myself for her passing. My mom did not tell my 5 yr old brother about her death. The other day, he overheard me talking to my mom about the funeral and he starting asking questions. Now my mom is mad at me because she didn’t want him to know. And i’m mad at her for not telling me that he wasn’t supposed to know. Personally i think he should have known so we can all deal with this together. Should I say something to my mom or just let it go?

Is your mother an idiot? How is she going to answer all those questions? “Mommy, when’s grandma coming over?” “Mommy, who’s ashes are those in that little vase?” “Mommy, why is Grandpa so sad all the time?” “Mommy, why are you wearing all of Grandma’s jewelry?” He’s a little kid, not a potato. He’ll figure it out when you all go to the cemetery and leave him in the car. Death is a part of life. Start small. Does he have a small pet, maybe a turtle? Something he loves. Take your brother aside and tell him all about life and death. Then take out the beloved pet and kill it. It will be an abject lesson. He will learn about the unpredictability of life, the fragility of our own being. He’ll learn that life can be cruel, but he’ll also learn about death and that was the point, wasn’t it? Kids have to grow up sometime, and Mr. Know-It-All has never met this cute little tyke but he feels that he knows enough about this kid from your letter to make an informed judgment. Take it from your trusted advisor, kill the kid’s pet.

Well, the end of another column has come and as always, I wish I could take you all and give you a great big hug.

Just the ladies I mean. No guys. I don’t roll that way.

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A sailor’s life for me!

8 Nov

from September 23, 2006

I’ve always been drawn to the sea. Even as a child, I had sea-water in my veins. This caused a big problem when I was born. I required a series of very dangerous transfusions to replace all that sea-water with actual blood. But I digress.

My family has a strong naval heritage. While Admiral Bradford Jackson (1898-1953) may be the most prominent member of the Jackson naval fraternity, he was by no means the first. The first documented sailor Jackson was Bryce Jackson, from Scotland in the 15th century. Trust me- it was not easy being a Scottish Jew. Haggis is not kosher, and that’s all anybody ate around there- haggis omelets for breakfast. Haggis on rye for lunch. Haggis fermented into a sort of rum for dinner. It was a real drag. Great-grandpa Bryce enlisted in the navy with the intent of jumping ship in a kosher country. Not finding one, he stayed on board for the next twenty years and eventually died of scurvy.

I have always had an affinity for the ocean. In my room at work I have nautical prints hung and at home a portrait of Lord Nelson hangs above my bed. I learned to swim in the Long Island Sound and the radioactive glow did little to diminish my love of the open water. As a youth, I first went fishing for fluke and then advanced to blues and, later, marlin, by age ten. So it has been a long, deliberate process which has brought me to this decision: I want to be a pirate.

That’s right. A pirate.

“Arrr me mateys! Avast there!” See? I have all the lingo down. Pirates do exist. In Indonesian and Asian waters there exists today a serious problem with piracy that costs the oil industry millions of dollars each year. That is not what I mean. I want to be an eye patch wearing, stripped shirt sporting, walk-the-plank dude. Why not? Pirates don’t punch in at nine, go home at five. They’re pirates 24/7. Wake up, hang someone from the yardarm. Breakfast, then forty lashes for the cook. Lunch, then spot a Spanish galleon of the port bow, unfurl all sails, prepare the cannons. Dinner, then a cutlass duel and a drink till dawn. Plenty of lusty wenches, lots of treasure to bury, nothing but the open waves and the smell of freedom in the air. No boss to report to. Someone has beef with you, shoot them in the back. Go where you want, do what you want, take what you want. You can be as obnoxious as you want to and offend anyone you want.

Pirates remain the last group that is not politically correct. To be a pirate is to BE someone. To be respected. Walk tall, oh men of the ocean! For you are the last true free men. And that is what I aspire to be.

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