Mr. Blog's Tepid Ride

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.

Tags: advice, bad advice, Mr. Blog's Tepid Ride

from September 16, 2006

Once again, I’m going to swipe some questions from real advice columns and give better advice than the pros. 

First up, some tool from the Daily News who calls himself “B.F.F.” whatever that means.

Dear BFF: My neighbor has been having parties on his roof-deck most weekends this summer. He’s very considerate about noise, and we have lived side by side without incident for years. Except he tends to end his parties by having sex with some floozy on the roof, which we can both see and hear. Does New York etiquette require us to simply ignore it?

Next Door in Nolita

First of all, may I have your address? I’ll be over around nine. Well Next Door, you have asked an interesting question. New York etiquette. Obviously you are new here. You have many options about what you can do, following the rules of New York etiquette. First, you can videotape them. There is a strong market for amateur pornography. Voyeurism is your ticket to cash. Secondly, why not finagle an invitation? I’m sure there’s more than one floozy at the bash and I’m sure you could score with a drunk scud. Thirdly, is your neighbor married? In a committed relationship? In a position of authority? I think that you may be in a position to turn this to your advantage. Black mail is only wrong when it is against you.

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And now, Mr. Lotto. (I can barely type that without laughing.) “Mr. Lotto.” How about “Mr. I Have No Balls”?  If you know so much about the lottery, why haven’t you hit the Mega Millions and retired to Jamaica instead of writing this column?

“There’s nothing more frustrating than winning, and not being able to collect.

And yet it still happens regularly; witness this e-mail from Audrey K., who wrote: “I received a Winner Take All scratchoff ticket a few days ago as a gift.

“When I took it to a dealer to claim the ($5) prize, I was told that the ticket was no longer valid.

“Can you please tell me if this ticket has expired, and if it has, if there is any way I can still collect the prize money? Thanks for your help.”

You idiot. You need my help for this? You’re asking me a question about an expired $5 lottery ticket? Are you that poor that you need $5 for your dinner? Is it Alpo or Friskies tonight? How long have you forgotten that thing- what if it was a $500 winner? You don’t deserve that money. If you wanted that money you would have turned in the ticket long ago. And talk about common sense! Any normal person who functions above the approximate level of a howler monkey would have figured out this one long ago. Screw off. I’m not going to help you. Work this out on your own.

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Old friend Harriette Cole checks in again, with a ridiculously easy one.

Dear Harriette:

I go to lunch with a business friend every month or so, and we always swap who pays. The next lunch will be my turn, but I’m really tight on cash right now. I’m not sure what to do. On the one hand, I feel awkward admitting I can’t afford to pay for lunch, even though we do have a friendly professional relationship. On the other, it feels weird to cancel lunch. How should I handle this?

Laurianne, Denver, Colo.

 Blow job, Laurianne. Blow job.

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I will end this with a pair of letters from Miss Manners, whom I am increasingly certain lives on Mars.

 DEAR MISS MANNERS — My wife, a high school English teacher who taught advanced composition courses to seniors before retiring, had a pet peeve about one very common usage by prominent speakers in every field and also highly respected authors. It is starting a sentence with “I don’t think….” She insisted that her students use “I think” instead of “I don’t think.”

Her rationale was obvious. The latter implies that the writer doesn’t think. I would like to have your opinion on this subject.

Well, speaking as an English teacher, the “I don’t think” implies a negative in the opening of you thesis and- hey!  sakldjfoiperjgjipop———- SHUT UP ENGLISH TEACHER!

You know that most students don’t think. Well, your wife knows it too. Obviously, she is much brighter than you. If I were you, troll, I’d better make dinner and then breakfast in bed before she starts to think about divorcing your ass.

DEAR MISS MANNERS — As half of a same-sex couple, I am a little puzzled about bread-and-butter notes. When my partner and I lived in separate communities and had dinner in the home of a couple who lived in between, I agreed that it was proper for both of us to write. But now that we are living together, it seems a little odd for the same couple to be getting two separate notes from the same household. I think one note over two signatures would suffice. Perhaps we might alternate writing them.

Here’s the proof that I am 100% straight. What the fuck is a bread-and-butter note? On second thought, I don’t want to know. Frankly, anytime a gay man asks me a question with the word “butt” in it I get nervous.

But- er, However, to answer your question, I say this: Don’t bother. I have long felt that friends are a burden. Unless these are people whom you can bend toward your own purposes, don’t worry for a second. People are a liability in life. Friends doubly so. I say forget all this nonsense.

 That’s all for this installment. Join me next time when I make a young child cry.

Tags: advice, bad advice, Mr. Blog's Tepid Ride