Hypochondriac

Oh Wise One,

How do I know if I'm a hypochondriac?

~Probably dying but possibly not actually dying

Dear Dying,
You're dying!  It's time to panic!  You're constantly breathing in
bacteria and viruses!


But seriously, here are a few tests to determine whether you are a
hypochondriac:

1. Do you buy ridiculous products to fix your various imagined diseases?

2. Do you endlessly search the interwebz for diagnoses of your potential
illnesses?

3. Do you spend upwards of $40,000 on hypoallergenic pets just so that
you won't develop a sniffle?


If you've answered "yes" to any of these questions, you might just be a
redneck hypochondriac.  Here's what you should do:
Come stay at my house for a week.  It would be a win/win situation; you
would know what it's like to truly live in filth, and you'd see that any
possible health effects are (probably) a long way off.  And I might
possibly convince you to do some of my dishes.

I hope this helps, you freak of nature.

Kung Fool

Dear Dispenser of Discretion,
I tried to use Kung Fu recently, but realized that I didn't have any. What should I do?
Truly,
Kung Fool

Dear Kung Fool,
I like to think of Kung Fu as more of a state of mind rather than something you can have. Can you have perfect calm and serenity? Can you have an unmitigated desire for kickassery wrought by the very limbs that just the other day caused you to fall down a flight of 2 stairs on your way to walk your tiny dog with a bow in its hair? No! Such is the enigma of Kung Fu. I believe that instead of trying to find and then attain this fighting style, you should first try to prepare your mind to receive the wisdom of the... something.
So... here's what you should do: First, find some sort of calming natural space, such as a meadow, or a waterfall, or a mountain or whatever. Then, sit with your legs crossed and eyes closed for several hours until your ancestors appear with some insight about why you should learn to fight (it will probably be something about avenging your father, or grandfather, or, like, dentist). After your meditation, you should find a really old Chinese or possibly Japanese man, preferably one who runs an old antique shop. There you will find an adorable, furry creature that you must take care of, but make sure to never get water on it or... Wait, that's the wrong movie.
After meeting the old man, you should do some chores for him, such as washing his car and painting his fence. Eventually, if you do these chores well and without too much complaining, he will teach you the secrets of Kung Fu, and then you can use it whenever you want, because it will be ALL YOURS, MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA...ahem.

Baby Factory 2

Dear Advisor,
I have a similar problem to another one of your readers, apparently. I
also keep getting pregnant! I can't figure out why. I'm a man, and a
eunuch at that. How is this happening? I've narrowed it down to a few
possibilities:
1. Even though I have unprotected sex with strange men all the time, I
must be having virgin births.
2. Buttplugs turn into babies.
3. This is all a dream!
Lip my stockings,
Baby factory


Dear Factory,
Are you sure that you're actually a man? Do you remember when you became a eunuch? The reason I ask these probing questions is that I suspect you may actually be a really ugly chick.
Here's what you should do: Look deep inside your soul, and ask yourself if maybe you've been living a lie. Maybe what you think is your asshole is actually a vagina? And, maybe that cucumber you keep in your pocket isn't actually a penis? Just think about it for a while. In the meantime, I would recommend that you get one of these ASAP. It could only help. Seriously.

Baby Factory

Dear Advisor,
I keep getting pregnant! I can't figure out why. I've narrowed it down to a few possibilities:

1. Even though I have unprotected sex with strange men all the time, I must be having virgin births.

2. Tampons turn into babies.

3. This is all a dream!

Pinch me,

Baby factory

Dear Baby Factory,
It IS all a dream! I'm surprised that wasn't possibility #1. Do you by any chance live in Oklahoma?

Here's what you should do: Keep popping those fuckers out. There are a lot of rich, baby-less yuppies out there who would be glad to pay for your "medical expenses", and take the babies off your hands. That way, you won't have to modify your own behavior in any way, which should be easy enough for you. Too much work? Then I suggest you stop giving it up like Jessica's mom at a sailor convention.

Blue Collar Slut

Dear Advice Individual,
I've been getting many a cat call recently, but I'm not dressed all-sexy-like. It always happens when I'm in my work shirt and pants, going to work at the "Spread & Easy" (Butter Factory). Are work shirts in these days? What should I do?
Truly,
NOT A (total) SLUT!


Dear (total) Slut,
Here's what you should do: Put on actual pants. Ass-less chaps are NOT pants.

Also, yes, work shirts are in right now. This is one of the signs of the slowing economy, and may also explain some of the uninvited come-ons that you've received recently. Apparently, jobless men that hang around outside butter factories are turned on by any sign of a job, including the work shirt. Perhaps you should bring your work uniform with you to work and change there?

My Mind is My Enema

Dear Advice Person,
My friend told me about butt leakage, and how terrifying it is. So naturally, I took the initiative to prevent such a traumatic experience. If there is nothing in your butt, there is nothing to leak our, right? Right? So I came to the conclusion: enemas make things in your butt disappear. I took about a half dozen before work, and daintily skipped off to my investment firm, confident in my anal cavity's cavernous state.
Much to my dismay, as I was making fun of the mail boy's lack of sufficient breeding, I noticed a wetness that was... intimidating. It started small, but turned into a veritable Niagara. In an effort to prevent this from happening ever again, I've been taking countless enemas, but the butt leakage is stronger than the enemas' magic. what can I do?
Sincerely,
Keeping it tight


Dear Keeping it Tight,
That's gross. Here's what you should do: Forget the enemas, and invest in one of these, thereby preventing fecal matter from entering the lower portion of your colon at all. Granted, you're going to have to strap a crap-bag to your abdomen, but you can't win 'em all, right?