RANTS ARE ALL THE RAGE by yours truly, the Crabby Critic
Today’s blogger is a savvy animal. He lusts after sensationalism like a half-starved super model in search of a Big Mac. Hmmm…no wonder they never smile. As far as super models go, I’ve never been big on women with more bones visible to the naked eye than a brontosaurus. Honestly, put a little meat on those cheek bones! But I digress.
So here’s the short and curly about this site. It’s yours. What? Well, not exactly. Welcome to my open forum on whatever gets your dander up. From time to time I’ll be knocking about my two cents to get some feedback from all you savvy bloggers out there.
It's easy to contribute. Just go to the comments section and let me know what's on your mind. As soon as I can I'll get back to you with my reply. Both your question and reply will then become part of the readable portion of this blog. First name's only please - and locations if you so prefer.
But here’s the wrinkle – you don’t have to write back about what’s been posted.
You don’t even have to care about what’s been posted.
You just have to have a rant in your head and a keyboard at your finger tips.
Got a question about your nagging mother? Wanna know why your brother’s a jerk or your sister’s a slut. Think the Democrats are lynching Sam Alito or Rush Limbaugh’s a fat hypocrite? I don’t care. But I want to hear from you.
Ask the crabby critic – moi – and we’ll see if we can come up with the answers together.
One catch – this site emphatically DOES NOT SUPPORT the following: four letter words, racism, hate literature or badly formulated inquiries obviously written by someone on crack and without the aid of spell check.
Get a clue.
Get a life.
Enter the world of internet hyperspace…just don’t expect hypersensitivity as part of the package.
I’ll be honest, but I’ll also be blunt.
DISCLAIMER: this site is intended for entertainment purposes only. I’m not a psychologist, doctor, psychoanalyst, guru, faith-or any other kind of-healer. I’m just a guy with an ax to grind…better in the back of your head than mine. But if someone’s already plunged in the knife, permit me to offer you a way of stitching up the wound.
I just call them like I see them, so let’s get whatever’s ailing you off your chest and on the record before it lands us both on somebody’s couch at $500 a session.
But with great sincerity attached,
The Crabby Critic
I’m Randy from Seattle and I need some feedback about my fiancée who says that I’m stalling her plans to get married. Lately it’s all we talk about…and fight about. We’ve been engaged for four years. I don’t think that’s too long. My brother’s been engaged for nine to his woman and she doesn’t seem to have a problem with it. What do you think?
You know what they say about cows? No two are alike. The fact that yours wants to strap on the bell faster than your brother’s leads me to figure that she has much more sense than either your brother, his milk provider or you.
While there’s no easy way to determine a suitable length of time to be engaged, I suspect most reading this will agree with me when I say four years is TOO DAMN LONG!
If only other appendages in this relationship were as lengthy you might have staved off your fiancée’s complaints for another five years like your brother.
Here’s the deal. You don’t want to get married. If you’re honest with yourself you’ll admit that – if only to yourself - once you’ve cooled down from this reply. Most guys are never 100% ready to get hitched but approximately the same percentage are all set to strap on a condom for a little bullfighting between the sheets. That’s fine if both parties agree on the terms and a set fee. The fee your being asked to anti up in this case is a wedding ring and a date.
Without either you’re just wasting her time and yours. If all you’re looking for is sex there are women or ‘services’ that will supply you with an outlet. This site doesn’t condone such behavior but if that’s what you’re looking for then it’s the right option for you.
My best advice would be – GET MARRIED.
However, if you really can’t see yourself getting married and STAYING married then, as painful as it may be for your both, I suggest the cow and the bull move to greener – and definitely more separate – pastures before you both step in a patty neither one will be able to get clean from.
…and one more thing, don’t have kids. You’re not ready for those either!
The crabby critic
I’m twenty-nine and tired of my father’s girlfriend. She’s always around when I want to spend some quality time with my dad. She’s twenty-nine too, by the way. Personally, I think she’s a real @#)$(%. I’m thinking of starting something next time I see her. But he won’t give her up to spend time with me. I think he’s being real immature. I just want him to go back to my mom. Do you think that’ll ever happen?
Sarah in Philadelphia.
Only if your father’s girlfriend drops dead. Maybe not even then. Without the specifics of what broke your mom and dad up I’m not at liberty to figure out why he decided to shack up with some babe who’s old enough to be his daughter.
That’s just sick.
But the last thing I want you to do is give her a good smack. Your dad’s not behaving like a father, but that’s his problem. I always get peeved at parents who think they can crank out some kids, raise them to a certain point and then just dump the family for the first underage fling into midlife crisis that comes along.
Here’s what’s probably going to happen. Since you didn’t say how old you’re dad is but you did say that you and his new woman are both twenty-nine, that sets your dad up to be somewhere between forty-five and fifty years old – unless both your folks went to some progressive school for the sexually enriched. No twenty-nine year old is going to stay with a forty-something for very long. Right now – particularly if your dad has been taking care of himself (working out, hair plugs, hot pants, etc.) this other tart in his life probably finds him attractive.
If he’s loaded she probably gets off on that too. But sooner or later (and much sooner than her) he’s going to start to sag. Bedroom performance is bound to dip dramatically and there’s only some much Visa Gold out there for the taking. She’ll get bored with him and leave him for someone else. He’ll be hurt, disappointed and embarrassed. That’s when he’ll need a daughter…the right kind of daughter, one with unquestioning compromise to help him rebuild his life from the gonads up.
But listen up – when that castration point comes, the last thing you should do is take it as a sign that daddy’s ready to come home!
He may never be...
Frankly, I wouldn’t think much of your mother if she wanted him back after that. They can still be friends – but it would be disastrous for them to ever become lovers again.
And anyway, at twenty-nine the wonder years should be over for you. If you were fifteen and your father decided to do what he’s done - this would be a calamity. As it stands, it’s a minor soap opera. Stop being the drama queen.
Get yourself a guy or a girl (whatever your preference) and stop investing so much time in what your father’s doing with his life. Bottom line – he’s already decided it’s his life. You have to accept that and move on or you’ll be miserable for the rest of yours. His middle-age stupidity has already screwed up his own chances for happiness. Don’t let his concerns consume yours.
The crabby critic
What do you think about Mayor Ray Nagen vowing to rebuild New Orleans as a ‘chocolate city’?
Pete from Colorado
I think Mr. Nagen should find another line of work.
It’s ironic how racist comments are perceived only as such when it’s a white guy making them. Nagen’s call to action for a ‘chocolate city’ (with a bit of milk…let’s not forget) is about as incendiary one can get without just coming out and labeling the white folk also ravaged by Katrina as a bunch of white-sheeted ‘honkeys’.
I don’t know what blow Nagen thinks he’s struck for ‘black power’ but in my opinion he’s set back the proud words and immortal legacy of Martin Luther King by at least 150 years. So long as you have politicians like him (black or white) spreading their particular brand of lunacy about the land – and getting re-elected for it - you’ll always have an America divided by race. How depressing.
The crabby critic
What do you think of Ryan Seacrest’s butt? My girlfriend, Tanya says Brad’s is best but I think Ryan’s got a cute one.
Melissa from Brighton Beach
Never having seen it, I couldn’t say.
(Aside: please don’t send me an eight by ten glossy of it either. I’m not into that sort of thing.)
But, while we’re on the subject – what is it with women in general and men’s butts?
The crabby critic
My mother says I should dress more sexy or I’ll never get laid before I’m eighteen. I don’t think I’m good looking like my mom and anyway I don’t see why it’s so important. But yesterday she took me to the mall and bought me a thong bikini. I told her I’d wear it to the beach but when I got there I just wore my one piece bathing suit instead without telling her. I just wish she’d stop pushing me to get a guy. I’m only fifteen.
Tammy from Florida
You can tell your mother from me that her time to be what she would consider sexy has passed and she had better not pawn off her horny self dillusions on her much smarter and more mature fifteen year old daughter. Give it a rest!
I’m with you Tammy. You’re fifteen. Sex should only mean gender at that age. But repeatedly advertisers shove sexy programming, commercials and products at the early teen that – if followed to the letter of perversity – are guaranteed to get your face plastered on the back of a milk carton.
Your mother wants you ‘laid’…are you serious?!?!? Ask her if she also wants you pregnant by some guy who’ll be out the door before the condom’s off.
I’ve never heard of anything so low in my life. Your mother IS NOT looking out for your best interests, Tammy. That may be a hard fact to swallow but she’s obviously going through some sort of vicarious wish fulfillment at your expense. If she’s married to your father – which I doubt – I think she should concentrate more on that relationship than the one’s you might start to have when you’re a bit older.
Often mother/daughter relationships like the one you described are predicated on obsession – either your mother grew up too fast and missed out on her own childhood or she wants to rob you of yours so that the two of you can be more like sisters and share sob stories. In my opinion your mother shouldn’t be raising kids…she should be taming cobras.
As for thongs – educate ‘mama’ on what most health studies already have acknowledged: that a thong provides ample fodder for infectious bacteria to crawl from your butt to your front and generally create a rash and mess that requires pills and/or creams. Now isn’t that sexy!
The crabby critic
I think Anna Nicole’s just misunderstood.
Paul for Wisconsin
Yeah. So’s O.J. Simpson.
O.J. was acquitted of any wrong doing, remember?!?!?
Jaylee from Nantucket
So was Ted Kennedy of Chapaquitic. Mary Jo Kopechne would disagree.
YOU’RE NOT A DEMOCRAT!!!!!!!
Toby from L.A.
I’m also not a Republican. I’m from Canada. Well, duh!
I'm from L.A. too and just wanted to let you know that not all Californians are morons like Toby.
Lisel from L.A.
Glad to hear it. Never suspected as much. I never make blanket statements about people from a specific region, race, religion or sexual orientation. I leave screw ups to the individual. On that score, I don't think Toby could find Canada with a compass up his butt.
Do you ever get that ‘not so fresh’ feeling?
Only when I waste my time on chicken-hearted crap like you. Next time at least be bold enough to provide a first name!
My mother says I don’t know how to raise a child properly. She’s always criticizing everything I do and how I do it. My husband says to let it all roll by but it hurts me when she says it. Should I just ignore her or take my husband’s advice?
Jocelyne from Toronto
If it were your mother-in-law I’d tell you to forget it. But it’s your mother throwing spitballs on your prowess. Have you considered that maybe she’s jealous because you’re a better mom to your kids than she was to you?
Personally, I think your husband’s right about this one. As men, we tend to get mad fast and forget what we were mad about almost as quickly. You gals lug that baggage around with the memory of a herd of elephants. I never could figure how any woman can quote almost verbatim some negative event or snide comment on speed recall with the accuracy of an IBM. It’s pretty amazing but also fairly damaging to one’s psyche.
You don’t want to insult your mother because then you’ll probably carry around a side cart of guilt for the rest of your days. But just shutting up every time the old cow opens her yap isn’t going to help you any either.
My advice: make up your mind once and for all. If this is the only complaint mom wields each and every time you see her, I would just smile winningly the next time she says it and say something like, “gee ma’ I guess you’re right. What should I do?” It’ll drive her crazy – compliance always does. The instigator can’t figure out why you’re so gosh darn agreeable.
However, if your mother is being disagreeable about every aspect of your life (how you dress, your husband, where you live, how you keep house, the friends you have, your job, etc) I'd send Bossy to the glue factory. Destructive influences in one’s life should be kept to a bare minimum and that includes parents who think it’s their duty to dismantle the lifestyle their children are trying to cultivate for themselves.
If you don’t want to break things off clean right off the bat, my final suggestion is the next time ma’ gets fresh and loose tongued with the insults I would quietly go in the other room for a moment or two and then return – calm and collected – with a brand new bar of soap in my hand and say, “If little Johnnie or Suzie ever spoke to me like that they’d have this stuck between their teeth. But I’ll simply ask you to keep your opinions to yourself from now on, because I know you have dentures!”
The crabby critic
Dear Crabby Critic:
I never finished my doctorate. I’m 27, have a good-paying job, I like what I do for a living, but something in me nags to quit my job and finish my degree. Do you think I should go for it or is it time to grow up?
Kate from Windsor
The purpose of higher learning – in so far as I can gather from my own experience – is to set you up comfortable for a better paying gig. That you already have. While education’s never a waste of time, ask yourself whether it’s feasible and worth it to go back to the poverty row existence of a struggling student.
It would help if your employer could work around your semester schedule so you wouldn’t have to sacrifice everything. Don’t forget, there are no guarantees when you depart with diploma in hand that some fantastic career is going to be waiting for you in the wings.
My advice would be this: if you’re passionate about something you should do it no matter what. You sound like you’re on the fence about going back, so I think you should do a bit of soul searching over the weekend. Maybe call up a girlfriend or two, or a well intentioned family member who’s not going to get all jealous because you’re trying to rise to the next level of your social caste.
As for growing up – there are only two kinds of people in this world: those who grow old – physically, and those who were born old – mentally. If you’re the kind that’s young in heart you’ll never have to worry about when its time to start saving for that wheel chair.
The crabby critic
My neighbors won’t keep their Pit Bull on their side of the fence. What should I do?
Shoot the neighbors…
…seriously, though – to own any animal is a privilege, not a right.
Your neighbors don’t have the right to infringe on your property and your safety with their lop-eared pure breed. I’d feel the same way if it were a poodle, but a pit bull is an entirely different matter because it is a breed of dog prone to sudden fits of attack even when unprovoked. I recall the story of a woman mauled to death by a pit bull in the stairwell of her apartment complex.
The defense attorney hired by the owners of the murderer in that case tried to say that the woman’s perfume caused the animal to go Jeffrey Dahmer. Perhaps he preferred something more subtle like ‘Jolie Fleur.’ The point is the defense lost their case and the animal was put down.
If you have sensible neighbors you may want to relay this story to them with the disclaimer that it would be a tragedy on both sides if your family lost a loved one and they lost their mutt (maybe not in those words). If you’ve got rednecks who don’t give a hoot living next door, then I would keep an eye out for the dog and lock up my daughters and good silverware too. After all - them's fightin' words!
The next time it’s on the loose make an anonymous tip off to animal control in your neighborhood. They – unlike some people – understand and respect the importance of keeping animals on a leash. Slapped with a $500.00 fine I doubt anyone will make the same mistake twice. If all else fails you could always let your lion roam into their backyard.
The crabby critic
Dear Crabby Critic:
How can you tell if you have a personality disorder?
That’s not for you to decide. It’s like asking “how do I know I’m not crazy?” The answer is...you don't!
The fact that you’re asking leads me to suspect that you’re quite normal. There are many ways a qualified specialist could diagnose you with a personality disorder. You’d have to make an appointment with one of them.
If you’re asking whether or not you have a ‘personality conflict’ that’s a separate issue. Some people clash seemingly in temperament with nearly everyone – it’s almost like they enjoy being pricks. I’ve never understood why. I suppose they think they’ve got the upper hand. Little do they know that behind their backs the rest of us aren’t even giving them the time of day, except to say how utterly useless, futile and nonsensical they are.
If you find that you are constantly coming up against a crisis of conscience with coworkers, friends, family, etc. my advice is to measure the frequency of the distemper. If everyone can’t stand to be around you, then it’s definitely you. Change your underwear and try a new deodorant. Then take off your hat and smile winningly. If that fails to win votes – its’ probably the other guy’s problem and you can go home without giving him a second thought.
The crabby critic
Dear Crabby Critic:
Are you single?
Looking in Denmark
I am, but I’m not looking. Anyway, how do you know I’m not 72, fat, alcoholic and depressed? Anybody can post a reasonably attractive picture of themselves when they were 21 and hung like a Clydesdale.
Internet dating is always risky, but particularly when the person on the other end thinks that Mr. or Mrs. Right is just a mouse click away. I like my dates the old fashion way – out in the open, frank and with good taste in all things – but especially in NOT asking me to commit over an invention. Grow up!
Can it be love if it’s not reciprocated?
Of course it can – but it’ll probably remain unrequited and best remembered as the one that got away from afar. It’s never easy to confess an attraction to anyone the first time around but it eases the pain of romance if you can read a few signals that say the other person shares your interests. “Hey baby – your place or mine” is an ill advised start.
If this person doesn’t even know you’re alive, make your presence and intentions known. If they already know you’re alive but just wish you’d drop dead perhaps its best that the fantasy you’ve concocted remain locked in your heart where it can never be tarnished by the cold hard truth.
The crabby critic
Dear Crabby Critic:
My parents don’t want me to have any piercings, but if I get one in my belly button they won’t have to know about it till I’m eighteen (next summer). I earn my own money. Should I do it?
How much do you respect your parents?
Piercings are popular these days. That doesn’t mean they are safe. It also means that in about fifty years there are going to be an awful lot of grandmas able to strap down their flopping boobies with a nipple adaptor and some chain link.
Youth never considers what life will be like after 25 – a pity, since there’s a lot left to live after that benchmark has been crossed. Yeah, I know – to you it’s no big deal. Evidently, you’ve decided for yourself that whatever your parents said really doesn’t matter because you’re coming into your own and want to act on whatever idiotic impulse happens to enter your noggin at that particular moment.
I’m not much older than you and yet I’m old enough to be grateful for the fact that my parents told me I’d be throttled if I got the ear piercing I was contemplating when I was a teen. Now, I’m glad they held down the fort. Because I see a hell of a lot of men in their mid thirties with little gold or diamond studs parading about like they’re still Johnny Studly out to court the next eligible bimbette with a brow ring who crosses their path. You don’t want to be that bimbette – do you?
And anyway, you're not self sufficient just because you can drive yourself to the tattoo parlor and pay for some guy with more writing across his face than a billboard to use a hole puncher on your navel. When you can actually pay your own way in everything and not rely on mom and dad to cut a check then I'll say you can do whatever craziness you want. You'll still look like a damn fool but at least then your family won't have to look at you everyday.
The crabby critic
Dear Crabby Critic:
Watching American Idol the other night made me cry. I want to be a singer so bad but I don’t know where to start. Should I quit my job and go to Hollywood? Should I audition for American Idol next year? How could I get voice lessons and what kind of training do I need? I’m sure I could be the next Mariah or Britney.
I cried the other night when I watched American Idol too...
– because it was so bad!
Have you any idea how many people think they have what it takes to become famous? A lot – just in case you were wondering. If you’ve never sung in public before my advice is that you start with a choir or singing group in your city, town, church, etc. Everybody thinks they can carry a tune but Idol is full of tuneless idiots who embarrass themselves royally in front of 60 million viewers. Wouldn’t you rather embarrass yourself in front of five other guys who are honest enough to suggest you have the musical prowess of a dead Carol Channing?
Should you quit your job? Definitely not. If the idea of having a group of your peers rate you scares you to death – or you think they’ll just shoot you down because of professional jealousy – my next bit of advice is make an appointment to see a voice coach: a good one. It will cost you but if they’re professionals they will tell you within a few lessons whether or not you have what it takes to belt out the high notes in front of packed stadium.
And finally, aside from the vocal talent – you need something nobody can give you: guts. I had a friend who was very musically inclined but when he tried to open his trap in front of more than six people he croaked like a toad. A psychologist might help you get over that phobia if you have it – but just remember this: Grammy award winning recording legend Carly Simon disappeared from the pop scene for nearly a decade after a much publicized bout of stage fright literally paralyzed her in mid-tune back in the 1980s. If it can happen to the best of us, it will surely happen to the worst!
The Crabby Critic
Dear Crabby Critic:
Can you teach me how to stick to my guns? I’m becoming a real pushover and I know I can learn to shake it.
Here’s the deal on self esteem. You have to own it from the inside. Nobody can teach it to you. When you get up in the morning take a good look in the mirror and say the following:
I’m worth it.
I know it.
Screw anyone who dosen't think it!
Confidence comes more easily to some than to others. If you’ve always been the shy retiring kind you’ve got a bigger hurdle to clear than you think, but it can be done.
If somebody at work is always pawning off their load on you, kill that lazy monster where it hurts – but with kindness. Just say something like “Gee, you know what, my stress levels just way out of whack today and you wouldn’t want me to mess up your stuff. Better handle it yourself.”
If family have the expectation that you’ll always be around to pick up the pieces – realign that assessment by telling them “I know I’ve been sort of a crutch for you guys and I want to apologize for that because I haven’t been doing you any favors. It’s about time I stepped back and let everyone figure things out for themselves.”
If that doesn’t work on both fronts: “Go to hell and don’t ever talk to me again, you lazy-ass toad,” generally does the trick. Just don’t expect to get invited to any Christmas or birthday parties next year.
The Crabby Critic
My wife thinks I’m spending too much time with the boys. We’ve been married for three months, but the way I figure it, if I’m there for her five days a week, my weekends are my own. You get that, don’t you?
Tom from Arcadia
Frankly, I don’t. I receive a lot of letters from guys who have switched from regular to decaf and then complain that the new swill doesn’t give them the same old buzz. Well, duh! No kidding. A wife is not something you acquired on paper, satisfied on the honeymoon, then leave to darn your socks every five days while you take off with your college buds. If you wanted that life style you should have kept her as a girlfriend – and not a live in one either. Look at it from her standpoint. She doesn’t go off with her girlfriends and leave you to cook dinner every night of the week, does she?
That isn’t to say you two can’t have time apart. On the contrary – the longer you’re married the more you’ll need it. But not after three months of your life as a couple. That’s what you are now – a couple. No more I or she, but we, till death – or a really good divorce attorney – do you part.
Here’s a thought: why not have the ‘boys’ and their wives and/or gal pals over one weekend for dinner. That way your friends can become your wife’s friends. She should do the same with her crew. Share and share alike. That’s how you get “ours”! Who knows – everyone might strike it off just right and then it’ll be your wife suggesting the get together on a regular basis instead of protesting every time you want to bolt out the front door.
Take the plate out of your forehead, Sherlock.
It’s not picking up the right signals!
The crabby critic
My fiancée says he’s not cheating on me again but he comes home late at night, smelling on perfume and ….you know. The last time I caught him with a woman he tried to say it was his cousin, only I found out from his mother that he doesn’t have any girl cousins. Please help – I want to be able to trust him.
Daisy from Tallahassee
How desperate, fat or ugly are you?
The last time you caught him?!?!?!?!
Arguably, there’s a first time for everything, but with cheating there should only be a first time. How many have there been in the past – or isn’t he the kind that kisses and tells? When it comes to men, there are only two kinds: those that step up and take commitment and responsibility seriously – and dogs who think their penis is a share toy. Time to get your puppy fixed.
He’s just not that into you as much as he’s been into you – if you catch my meaning. But I couldn’t care less about him. In fact, as a man, this guy offends me.
And have you considered this: that he might swagger in one night and give you something unwelcome that will leave you sterile and scarred for life? If there’s one thing I want you to leave with after reading this, it’s that your purpose in this life IS NOT to serve as a receptacle for his sperm whenever he feels he’d rather stay home and give it to you. YOU DESERVE BETTER THAN THAT!!!
You may have the patience of Job and think he must be in love with you…because, after all, he keeps coming back to you. But I’ll wager that the only reason he does is because he’s got a nice cushy set up there and someone he knows he can wipe his feet on whenever the weather’s too bad to drive out to another pasture for the mating season. You’re not getting the best of him. Not even sloppy seconds. Just what’s left over – like a stray chewing on the scraps. Is that your fault? Absolutely!
Ditch this pig in another trough, Daisy.
Your deserves the leafy greens!
the crabby critic
I have a lot of fears. I am afraid of dogs, afraid of space, afraid of the dentist. Therapy and drugs did not help.
Everyone’s got fears. I’m afraid of fame – not what’ll happen after it hits, but having it miss me all together. But enough about me. This response is about you. What do you think of me…just kidding.
What you are referring to sounds more like phobias than fears. There’s a difference – phobias paralyze your daily existence. You feel helpless and unable to overcome them and when you see a dog or dentist’s drill you probably do everything from break into a cold clammy sweat to clucking like a chicken. That’s a hell of a way to function…if functioning is what you call it. So let’s explore this a bit deeper.
There’s two kinds of fears – founded and unfounded. So, what’s the difference? Well, an example of a founded fear would be if a dog mauled your baby sister to death when you were nine and spattered your face in her blood and entrails. I could see how you’d be afraid of dogs in general then. I’m not sure what you mean when you say you’re afraid of space – too much, not enough; inner/outer?
I don’t think you really mean to say you’re afraid of your dentist…at least, not unless his name is Sweeney Todd. More likely you’re afraid of dentistry as a profession and what the hell is going on inside your mouth the next time you say “ah”. I used to have that fear until I got in touch with my current practitioner who is kind, caring, patient and understanding. He’s since become a good friend as well. But if you have a frustrated person for a dentist, who’d rather be an aspiring Broadway dancer than peering into your gaping cakehole then I suppose it’s no bed of roses for either of you and he doesn’t have a problem letting you know it either.
If therapy and drugs didn’t work, I’d simply suggest to you that you haven’t found the right therapy and/or drugs yet. Personally, I’d only use drugs as a last option. Foreign chemicals ricocheting around my brain neurons doesn’t exactly make me feel secure.
Here’s a thought – you need someone understanding on your side – not someone who’s never experienced what you’re going through or only read about the symptoms in a medical text book. Do some internet searching. You may also want to contact Dr. Phil via his web link. I’m serious about that – in the past Dr. Phil’s sent people with extreme fears for counseling and many of those have been cured. I just can’t seem to remember which loony bin he filed you guys away in. Again, just kidding.
Bottom line – you need help to overcome whatever’s eating you from the inside out. Even though a lot of people will think you are a total freak for ducking under the covers the next time you look up at the moon and think you see a comet coming – I would say those cynical idiots are the last fear you ought to be contemplating at this point in your life.
Best of luck. Now go out and buy a Pit Bull.
The crabby critic
I am in love with a poet from another blog. She does not even know I exist. What can I do to make her notice me?
Signed, Desperately Anonymous.
Dear Desperately Anonymous:
Stop being desperate. Even with about a billion miles of Ethernet cable between us I could pick up on the vibe of your sweaty palms. Imagine if I were Sylvia Brown! I’ll say to you what I said to a previous blogger who asked a similar question. About internet relationships: they are pure fantasy and destined for heartbreak and disillusionment.
The object of your affection could be a ninety year old cross-dressing transsexual ax murder with a foot fetish and really bad personal hygiene habits for all you know. Oh, and by the way, in the aforementioned scenario – dirty fingernails would be the least of my concerns.
Is it that you have trouble meeting real people in person – which, if that’s the case – I suggest you hook up with the person who wrote in about being afraid of everything…you guys would be a perfect match. Or is it that you just want that element of the unknown because you’re easily aroused by the mountain yet to be climbed. By the way, quite often that mystical mountain needs Jenny Craig.
My advise to anyone contemplating such a daring feat of blind stupidity would be – go out and find a real flesh and blood person in your town and hump like rabbits; that’s of course, after a nice dinner, some polite chit-chat and possibly a movie (not X-rated).
After all, have you ever tried making love to your computer before? It’s not very user friendly – even with Windows XP installed. Maybe we’ve both just given Bill Gates his next digital mile to cross.
If you still want to pursue this ‘poet’ from across the high speed dial-up why don’t you dazzle her with your poetic prowess? Write an ode to her grace. Word to the wise: such manifestations of grand amour never begin: “there once was a lady from Nantucket…”
The crabby critic
My name is Gerold. I’ll be seventy-nine next Tuesday, but my children don’t think I should be pursuing Thelma, the woman I met in the next ward at my nursing home. I tend to ruffle their feathers just by mentioning her name. What should I do?
Mention it some more. Oh…and tell your children that you’re donating their entire inheritance to the poor.
You’re a grown man. You raised your family. They obviously thought less of it by sticking you in someplace where you aren’t around sharp objects, simply because they wanted you out of their hair. Pathetic! In China, age is treated sacredly. In our superficial media driven cesspool however, you’re considered a forgotten relic.
But the fact that you’re savvy enough at your age to know how to use a computer and write me this message leads me to think whatever your numeric designation, you’re a spry old geezer with a lot on the ball.
If you’ve found companionship at this late stage in the game I say, go for it. You deserve all you can get. Genetics and performance being what they are – that probably won’t be much, but if it puts a smile on your face, you go, boy!
Your children don’t understand the ravages of old age yet and the isolation that can stem from being alone in their golden years…but don’t worry, Gerold: they’re not getting any younger either. The next time they come to visit, slip a copy of your nursing home’s brochure into each grandchild’s hand. After all – it won’t be that long before they’re ready to stuff their mom and dad into some godforsaken hole, just to save a bit of their own peace of mind. Confucius say: revenge is a dish best served cold. Do it before you are cold.
The crabby critic
What’s the deal with babes? They want you. They don’t want you. You do her and she wants to get married right away. I hate clingy chicks. I don’t know. I’m fed up. Go figure.
Jason from Queens
Women are a simple matter of arithmetic. You just can’t add.
Listen up, Crabby:
Your comment to the last guy was no help at all.
…and you’re point being?!?!?
I hate Oprah but all my mother, aunts and female cousins think she’s God’s gift to television. What can I do?
- Latisha from Sandusky
Change the channel.
I’m not a big Oprah fan either. I think my dislike started when she claimed with her old theme song that she was ‘every woman:’ every woman with 40 mil’ plus in the bank, a personal trainer, her own television program and studio, and a best selling magazine dedicated to spoiled rich women like herself.
The other part of Oprah that tends to rub me the wrong way is her general attitude that she “was always destined for greatness.”
I am an admirer of people who have climbed their ladder of success but have managed to retain more than a panty waste and diamond ring of humility for those struggles incurred – and more to the point – for those still struggling to get to that level.
But I don’t see any humility when I watch Oprah. Instead, I see a pompous, over indulgent princess who thinks just because she hit Park Ave. before 50, entitles her to tell everybody else what books to read, movies to see, plays to attend and clothes to buy.
Now, I know lots of people follow Oprah Winfrey like she’s the gospel. So too did a lot of people followed Hitler into World War II. Doesn’t mean that the blind faith and lack of intelligence invested by us in either of them - by creating a deity where one actually did not exist - has been the right choice.
But in North America, particularly, we dwell on fanaticism; obsessive passions over our favorite celebrities, sports icons, pop singers and football/baseball/hockey teams.
Cheer up, Latisha. I don’t subscribe to that fervor and neither do you. We’re the lucky ones. Just think, how many will be lost in the shuffle when Oprah decides she has enough money and doesn’t need her minions any more. Because in the final analysis, Oprah’s show isn’t about them; it’s all about her.
Pity the frustrated fanatic. Their recovery is predicated on discovering the next flash in the pan that will help get them through the day. There are many addictions in this life. Rabid faith in a television personality is just one of them.
The crabby critic
What is the purpose of life?
What am I, an oracle?
Personally, I don’t believe there’s any great meaning to life in general…at least not any one that we were meant to figure out for ourselves here on earth. Now, I find myself getting philosophical, but if you’re genuinely looking for answers to the grand question, why not look within yourself first.
What makes you happy?
What turns your crank?
What do you get up for each morning and why?
That’s the meaning of your life. Mine differs from yours. Yours differs from your sisters…and so on. You didn’t need me to tell you that. You could have watched The Wizard of Oz …which, by the way, isn’t a bad idea for anyone in the throws of such vast contemplation.
Yours truly, C.C.
I'm allergic to my boyfriend's cat. He won't get rid of it because he bought it for his kids. Should I break up with him?
- Sheila in Windsor
Sounds to me like your boyfriend’s already picked which cat he’d like to spend the rest of his life with.
Should you break up with him?
Yes, but not for the reason you’re thinking. So, here’s the reason – what the hell are you doing with some guy who’s got kids by somebody else?
Let me guess: he was never married to the mother of those children, was he?
And now those kids have to deal with daddy’s shack-up wanting to take away the family pet because it makes her itch. Well, scratch on, baby!
You’ve got a lot of nerve thinking that just because you put out in the sack it entitles you to put your foot down in a house that, by the way, you neither belong in nor are wanted in for that matter! Am I getting through to you, honey, or do I need a two by four?
Great, Sheila. Not only do you pick some disrespectful thigh cracker who’d stick himself into every available hole between here and Ohio – regardless of how damaging it is to his relationship with his children – but he’s also a guy who can’t recognize that, as the woman he’s chosen for himself, your concerns should come before those of the family pet. A real prince among men!
Do whatever you like – you clearly don’t think you’re worth any more so why should he? Stay with the loser and continue to cough up fir balls.