The Unadvisor

A. Should I have one? Should I also fling my door open and let any old riff-raff invite himself into my apartment and lounge about, passing judgment on how I arrange my furniture to minimize TV-viewing downtime when passing from kitchen to bedroom, at the expense of sleeping space and the ability to entertain even numbers of guests below twelve? MASKED, ANONYMOUS riff-raff at that?

So this was your internet’s scheme all along. To desensitize us, no… to make us consider REPELLENT, the idea of privacy and basic human courtesies like self-identification. Well, I’m on to your game, Al Gore. No one submits questions to The Unadvisor without an email address to hide behind. Not now, not ever!

Ok. I tried to set it up on the first day, but messages never came through.

A. Would you believe this was the first reader question I received? Ha ha, real funny. It makes me wonder why I even bother. You throw your loving arms wide open to the world, offer the comfort of your moisturized, lightly-downed manchest to their tear-stained cheeks, and this is the kind of stupid question people ask. As if this kindness was a joke. You IDIOT! Obviously your girlfriend has a husband and you didn’t use a real priest.

A. Dear Tanya Adele Robertson (I wish I had my full name @gmail.com too, but it was taken!), thank you very much for your letter. I googled your Flickr and Facebook accounts and you’re right, Crystal Dawn Richards does look like a tramp. Not like you though. You and Andrew Theodore Krapowsky of Grand Rapids, Michigan have the makings of a great couple. He’s probably just a bit shy, and like most men, clueless about how to read a woman’s feelings. You’ve probably been subconsciously sending him signals and signs about how you feel, but alas, he just couldn’t see them.

Give it some time and the relationship with her will probably fizzle out. Hopefully then, he’ll see the love you’ve been harboring for him, waiting in beautiful repose like an unopened flower by twilight, underneath your crew cut hairstyle, multiple piercings, flat bound chest, military flight jacket, and Doc Marten boots. Good luck, as always.

A. Ah, the first job interview. That sure brings back memories. If you’re an average-built male, you might be able to use this little trick of mine. I aced my first interview by showing up in my grandfather’s very smart gray suit. He didn’t need it anymore, because when I opened up his coffin it was all dust and bits of bone.

If you’re too broke for dry cleaning, just hang it up in a tree and beat it with a baseball bat to get the dirt out. Try not to do this in the late evening or you’ll spend hours at the police station explaining that it was just a suit (should one of your neighbors be an exceptionally nosy, near-sighted Asian woman by the name of Mrs. Kim).

If you’re a woman, and I don’t know much about women’s clothing, it should probably be cheaper to buy pieces made with less fabric than more. Miniskirts are perfectly acceptable in the workplace these days. Here’s a hot tip: save even more money by crossing undergarments off the list. Get yourself a crisp, form-fitting, white button-down shirt and pull a few buttons off the top to save as spares – no one will miss them. Then, should you need some later, it won’t mean a trip back to the store on company time!

A. They always say women have empathy, but you know that’s not true. She won’t know what you’re putting up with until you turn up one day in a t-shirt cut open at the nipples, proudly displaying your Swarovski crystal-studded areolae with a pair of StripperFly “Udderly Ultraviolet”™ high-performance tassels attached. Then you’ll look her straight in the eyes and ask what’s up, all nonchalant and shit.

A. Janelle? Is that you? Hey, it’s Chris from down the hall. I used to write the horoscopes, remember? They let me go a couple of months ago, but you’ve probably been too busy doing the work of three people to notice. Anyway thanks for coming by, click on an ad or two before you leave!

A. Sorry kid, there’s a game on TV now I gotta watch.

A. Because you didn’t bother mentioning what race you meant, I’m going to assume you have a Chinese boyfriend, the most awesome kind of all. Congratulations! You don’t need to do anything to help your Chinese boyfriend assimilate, except maybe point out that it’s okay to wear filthy shoes into your parents’ house.

The rest is smooth sailing even if he doesn’t speak English. Before you know it, he’ll be on the den computer pirating office productivity software (Dads love that) and in the kitchen MSG-enhancing your mom’s cooking (whole families love that). If you’re not dating a Chinese guy, you’re probably racist.

A. Based on the details furnished, it’s painfully obvious to me that your boyfriend has a furry fetish. To get his attention, you should put on a bear suit, or maybe a Japanese dog suit (Shiba Inu, specifically), and spray yourself with deer musk while repeating the question. He’ll open right up.