QUESTION # 318: A USELESS CONTEST

Dear Useless Men,

You commented on Andrew Krucoff’s blog that you’re open to bribery and this is a personal invitation (bribe).

We’re giving away $3000 in furniture to the site that sends us the most traffic from June 1st – Aug. 31st. With the following you have, I imagine you could challenge the leader. What do you have to lose?

Check our contest page: www.GoWFB.com/contest.php
(There’s publicity for the top sites as well.)

Dave Zirnhelt
www.GoWFB.com
Wholesale Furniture Brokers
Buy Smart. Buy Wholesale.
1-866-387-7037

Dear Mr. Zirnhelt,

Seriously?

I always thought we would catch the eye of a Microsoft exec with this blog and we’d all be hooked up with the latest Xbox initiative, some sort of Xbox 640 that not only turns you right around, then gives you graphics so great you end up with a wedgie.

Krucoff got candy. There was no contest necessary.

In the past, we’ve had requests for ads on this site, but you, my friend, (May I call you Dave?), have found a possible loophole to our no ads mantra. This isn’t an ad. It’s a CONTEST. And we could win?

Advertising with us may be the most useless idea ever, which makes you an honourary Useless Man, and thus, catapults this contest into our realm of thinking! Dave, if I can call you Dave, if Dave is in fact your real name, I take your challenge. Now, “Dave”, please excuse me while I speak directly to our readers in the midst of this reply.

Dear Reader,

We have answered SPAM here before, but I personally checked this contest out. I’m not endorsing them, nor do any of the Useless Men (or gal). But I am all about free stuff, as I’m sure you are too.

In order to win, we’re going to counter the contest with a contest of our own! Although a $3000 makeover of the Useless Offices would be grand (actually, three-grand), we are going to award the prize exactly as received by us, to one random winner that sends a question to us between now and August 31st,2006, the contest closing date.

Let’s not get hung up on rules and regulations, suffice to say that half the Useless Men will gather around a makeshift hat, or possibly a real one, and draw a name from the emails we receive.

If we don’t win the furniture, we’ll still award a Useless Prize Package to the lucky, yet unlucky, winning loser.

Don’t take my word for it. Check "Dave" out for yourself. If you want more details about the furniture prize, click here. Direct any questions to “Dave” regarding the awarding of the prize. In fact, call him. Tell him One Useless Man says, “I WANT FREE FURNITURE!”

BUT MOST OF ALL, CLICK THE LOGO TO GET US ON TO THE TOP. We’re already a month behind!

I can’t believe we’re doing this. This is, indeed, Useless.

Sincerely,
One Useless Man


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1. Click here first.
2. Send a question to Useless Advice from Useless Men by clicking here.

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QUESTION # 317: TOOL DROOL

Dear Useless Men,

What is the fascination with men, and having the overabundance/need for power tools...especially when they do not use them?

I see men with drool dripping from their faces every time they walk into the Sears tool department.

Signed,
Significant other of a drool dripper.

Dear Dripper,

To men, a good power tool does what a new handbag and shoes does to a woman. It isn't necessarily about having a place to use them, but the ownership of them is a fulfilling experience. While women covet designer products and dresses that make no sense to us, we covet electrical things that go “whir” and contain the power to destroy.

This isn't actually due to a desire to consume money, but rather serves another purpose. The first is the desire to save the world. It is a little known fact that men fear the power tools. There is a commonly held knowledge among men that power tools will someday take on a life of their own. All those saws and drills that go without homes will become rogue, homeless destructive forces that will wander the face of the Earth. These power tools will wander about dismantling homes and equipment if left unchecked.

Our desire is to tame them before they get out of control. Sure we could wait until they come to life first, then round them up for free as we go along like the love child of Al Borland and Steve Erwin, but we're men. If there's an easier way to do it, like throwing some money at it, then so be it.

Not only does having these tools reduce our future workload by thinning the number of tools we have to wrangle in the not too distant future, but also the possession of such tools shows other men that we are doing our part. Any man not in possession of the minimum number of powers is subject to disciplinarian actions.

The public part of this includes public ridicule and the need to live in a house with half-completed projects, as their fellow men will not offer the required help to complete said projects. The not-so publicly noticed part of the discipline, which is dispensed in more extreme situations, includes the revocation of invitations to guy’s night out as well as being volunteered as a subject of a makeover on shows like Queer Eye For The Straight Guy.

If you have a man that does not own any power tools, I urge you, for his own sake, to go out and at least get him a cordless drill. The corded kind won't do unless it's a fancy hammer drill. For the sake of his ego, which is an essential part of the male body, like the heart or the lungs, buy the man a tool. Not only will you be staving off the apocalypse, but you'll be helping his social status as well.

Sincerely,
Any More Useless, I'd Be A Cat

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QUESTION # 316: THE QUEEN OF BOYFRIENDLESS WOMEN

Dear Useless Men,

I am an attractive woman. I cook, clean and give the best massage ever. I am fun, I like to go out occasionally and am willing to work with any mans work schedule. If I am into you there is no denying it. I so show it.

I have had many guys in my search to understand men say you would be the perfect girlfriend or you would be an awesome girlfriend. If I am so good why am I still boyfriendless?

Really confused on this dating thing

Dear Really Confused,

After reading your letter and examining your photo I most certainly have the answer to your lack of a boyfriend problem.

First, on the positive side of things you do have a lot going for you.

You are attractive.

And being able to cook is good. Unless it's just that healthy cooking stuff. But I'm going to assume by cooking you mean meat and potatoes and plenty of pies. Which is good.

Men like a clean woman. And a clean place to live, as long as we don't have to clean it ourselves. In fact, a clean cleaning woman is one of our fantasies. Well, mine anyways.

Massages are a plus. As long as they don't involve those perfumed oils. I prefer WD40 but most men are content with any moderately priced motor oil. Again, I assume you know this.

All men would agree that a fun woman is more fun than a woman who isn't fun.

Going out occasionally is high on our list of important things. Between sports seasons anyways. And being able to work with our work schedule is good. For no apparent reason I can think of. But it sounds good, so what the heck.

Showing us affection is great. As your research has probably shown, for most of us, five minutes a night is more than enough. We do need our sleep. Immediately following our affection getting.

You do have a lot to offer a guy. But I did notice one flaw. One that will likely keep all but the most twisted guys away.

It's that velvet blanket you are laying on. Good grief. One look at that blanket and I immediately lost interest. It instantly reminded me of the Queen. The Queen of England. And of Canada. And some lesser countries like Australia. Have you seen the Queen? Or more importantly, have you seen her children Charles and Anne?

Good golly, they look like some creatures from the backwoods of the Ozarks or something. In fact, people in the backwoods of the Ozarks would be appalled at their appearances.

When guys are looking at you on that blanket, they think about the Queen. And they forget all the other good stuff you have to offer. All we see is the likelihood of hideous children. And unbeknownst to women, men worry about hideous looking children. We talk about it during breaks in whatever game we are watching. And we talk about it endlessly in locker rooms. It's the major cause of ulcers, insanity and flatulence in unmarried men.

If you throw out that velvet blanket and burn any pictures of you on it; leave no trace. I think you will have a boyfriend in no time.

Sincerely,
Another Useless Man


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QUESTION # 315: THERE ONCE WAS A WOMAN FROM URANUS

Dear Useless Men,

I noticed that you admitted that men are useless, does that mean you think that women are useful? Do you agree that women are from venus and men are from mars?

Sincerely
A Canadian woman.

Dear Canadian Woman,

When did we admit that men are useless? Oh, I guess it’s in the title. Never mind.

I don’t know that you can ultimately flip the coin over and find the opposite argument. For example, look at Canadian money. Most of it is in coin form now.

Penny: On one side you have a woman. On the other side, you have a Maple Leaf.

Nickel: On one side you have a woman. On the other side, you have a beaver.

Dime: On one side you have a woman. On the other, you have a boat.

Quarter: On one side you have a woman. On the other, you have a moose.

Dollar: On one side you have a woman. On the other, you have a loon.

Two Dollars: On one side you have a woman. On the other, you have a polar bear.

Perhaps if we all ate money, we could some how absorb those elements that would increase the usefulness of men. We could get the extra estrogen of the woman on the front, or back, and bonus from the added benefits of the other elements represented.

Of course, with all these coins being indigestible, I suspect all we could reasonably expect is a painful revisiting from the woman. That pain in your rear would be the passing through your anus. Groaning would be appropriate at this time.

While this might not explain if Men are from Mars, or Women from Venus, it might explain why women love to shop.

Sincerely,
One Useless Man


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QUESTION # 314: BREAST APPLIANCES

Dear Useless Men,

Do you think if I attached a pair of breasts to my dishwasher and clothes hamper my husband would be able to find them easier?

I mean the dishwasher is right next to the sink, but somehow, all dishes end up in the sink rather than in the dishwasher. I understand there is effort involved in opening the door to the dishwasher, and actually placing something inside, but if the handle was an exact replica of an erect nipple, do you think this would help?

Also, should I buy it when my husband makes the claim that I make better coffee than he does? I don't drink coffee, so this is something that may forever be an unsolved mystery. Maybe you know......

Anxiously awaiting your advice,
Disturbed and Dishless

Dear Disturbed and Dishless,

Grab yourself a cuppa Joe, (that's slang for a cup of coffee, for us coffee imbiber's), and relax. What you've done here is Cosmic! You've single-handedly brought Mars and Venus closer together!

To voluntarily dress as a dishwasher, with holes cut out for your breasts, is the kind of outside the box thinking women need to do to strengthen marital relationships. The results may not be to your liking. Your husband will be more aware of the dishwasher, but will still not be able to find it all the time.

You see, you'll still be responsible for cooking, cleaning, and laundry, and thus will be all over the house, whereas hubby will be either in the kitchen, or in front of the TV. The chances of you being in the kitchen every time your hubby is returning dishes is at most 50/50. When this does occur, he'll gladly use the dishwasher, but most likely he’ll just be fiddling with the knobs. In order to do that, he'd have to place his dishes in the sink to free up his hands. You see where I'm going with this? A horrible cycle occurs, let alone the Purple Nurple's you'd suffer.

I won't even try to explain what will happen if you ask him to load the dishwasher, but I will say this: Your kids will be scarred. There is also the inevitable, "My wife has the figure of a washing machine," jokes that he will tell his friends, who will tell their wives, who would, in turn, tell you. You'd be upset, and rightly so, and would let him know. Now, your husband is aware of "Unloading the dishwasher" and doesn't like it.

All in all, the only thing your husband will try to do is "Turn the Dishwasher ON", and you know how often that works.

Good idea though. You’re thinking in the right direction, but there are still some wrinkles to iron out. But don't use the erect nipple iron. It’ll leave indents in your ideas.

Oh, and as far as the coffee thing goes, everything tastes better when someone else makes it. That's universal.

Sincerely,
One Useless Brother


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QUESTION # 313: ... WHEN I'M 64

Dear Useless Men,

I'm currently dating a 58 year old. I'm 24. Does this mean that Christopher Knight and Adrianna Curry might be right?

Gold Digger

Dear Gold Digger,

Chris and Adrianna might be right, or left. I don't really know what their political affiliation is, but if you want to date a 58-year-old then I think that it is an honorable choice you have made.

To commit to a person that old is an admirable choice indeed. They will soon need liniment rubbed on inaccessible spots, and drives to the doctor for their arthritis medications. As a younger person, most would shy away from such duties. But you are doing exactly the opposite. Good for you!

I personally find the smell of Ben-Gay repulsive, so I'm not after the older folks. I can’t speak to your motivation, but I suspect it is the feeling of community service plus the almost guaranteed return of affections. Let’s face it, unless you're Paul McCartney, or wealthy, or both, then you aren't exactly swimming in options at that kind of age, particularly for the ladies that are still young and supple.

With the modern proliferation of the likes of those pills that I keep getting emails about, the sex life of the modern man has been extended to the grave, and maybe beyond. Where the poor old fellow would be pining for the glory days of his past, he can now resume the prowl thanks to better living through modern lifestyle chemistry. As for the potential problems you may be concerned about with his family, you can be fairly certain that you will be welcomed with open arms. As the children grow up, they are probably trying to drift away in case there is future need for palliative care or nursing home charges.

That being said, I can’t say I would be in a rush to use any one of the Brady Bunch as a role model for me. Especially that of the Brady boy who sang in choirs and joined the Sunflower girls. Actually, when you think about it that way, you have to wonder if his marriage to Adrianna Curry isn’t just a clever ruse to throw us off the truth. And, if that’s the case, then I shall revise my initial statement to say that they are likely not right at all, but definitely showing a tendency to the left.

Sincerely
Any More Useless, I’d Be A Cat


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QUESTION # 312: FOOTBALL VS SOCCER

Dear Useless Men,

I am researching the answer to a question I have been asked and I am trying you before Wikipedia. Why is it that Australia and America (and maybe others) use the term 'soccer' when referring to the World Cup game and other countries say 'football'?

It was suggested to me that this is something to do with the metric system, the suggestor being under the impression that Australia used the same Imperial system as America. I can't see how that comes in to it at all!

The World Cup is also now being referred to as "The Beautiful Game". I think this is an abomination.

With kind regards,
anonymous jones

Dear Anonymous Jones

Correct me if I'm wrong, (which would be Useless because I'm stubborn as well), but I believe the answer to this question goes back hundreds of years. Long before Canada ever existed. Actually, Canada, the mass of land, has been around for a very, very long time, it just wasn't called Canada yet.

"Soccer" is derived from the Metis phrase, "Frappe le boule avec les pied soccer", which loosely translated means "To beat the enemy in the groin using ones feet". This was a Native war cry used in battle when the fight was close enough for hand-to-hand combat. This maneuver, believed to be first used against the Vikings when they landed in Nu Fownd Land, later known as Newfoundland, becoming a signature shout in battles. Not to mention, a very effective strategy as well. Over the years, the phrase would be shortened. It wasn't until the mid 1700's, in the Windi Pegg Plains, eventually called Winnipeg, as European immigrants began settling in the area, that the term "Soccer" would be used.

That is whole other tale for another time.

Sincerely,
One Useless Brother

P.S. I have just been informed that, although this is Useless Advice, to end where I did is just plain mean. I tried explaining that my fingers were sore and my brain hurt, but apparently that doesn't matter, so reluctantly, here it is. the rest of the story. My apologies to Paul Harvey for saying that.

The Metis and Europeans warred over land and food for years. Then, while the Metis were planning another war strike, they observed the Europeans kicking around a head sized ball. Under a banner of peace, the leaders of both sides met. The Europeans thought this was to make some sort of treaty, but after much confused discussion, and poor translating, it was simply to learn about the abominably beautiful "foot and ball" game the European kids were playing. The European leaders gave a brief explanation of the rules before announcing their disappointment in this meeting. As they got up to leave, the Metis yelled out "Frappe boule!" and the European leaders crawled back to their settlement.

The warring stopped, and disagreements were settled by football games. In the Metis language, football is called "Boule Pied" but the Canadians, as the European settlers would later be called, thought “soccer” sounded more exotic.

Sincerely ... again,
One Useless Brother


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QUESTION # 311: IMAGINARY CHILDREN

Dear Useless Men,

My fiancé and I are still in this cloud of engagement bliss. We decided to pick out names for our future offspring.

He's got his mind set on naming our first-born son Thor. You know, Thor, the Asgard from the Stargate TV Show. He's this cute little alien with a BIG head, long arms and gray skin.

How can I convince my clueless fiancé that maybe this is not such a good thing? Maybe we should get a chihuahua instead?

Sincerely Yours,
The Imaginary Diva

Dear Imaginary Diva,

There was a wise man that announced to a gathered audience, “Labels Disable.” Or maybe that was an episode of Whose Line Is It Anyway?. Either way, I ask, what worse disability can we inflict on our children then names?

Thor is a powerful name. While you thought of the Stargate alien, I thought of the god of Thunder. How cool is it to be in charge of Thunder? My Dad controlled thunder through the pull of a finger. No lightning was ever spotted. Probably good, since the electrical charge would have been disastrous around what amounted to a significant gas leak.

Names work in many ways. They can conjure up good and bad. For example, let’s take the simple name Charlie. Are you naming Charlie after the lovable Peanuts loser, Charlie Brown, or that hated serial killer Charlie Manson? Was it after the lovable Little Tramp, Charlie Chaplin, or the heron abusing character Charlie Pace from LOST? It’s “You All Everybody” when it comes to names.

My research shows that Thor works for both sexes as there have been renditions of the Thunder god as both Male and Female. And there is already merchandise tie-ins from the Marvel line of comics. There is always a risk when you use unisex names though. I think it shows a real lack in creativity. Consider my parents, “If it’s a boy, we’ll name him Jody. If it’s a girl, we’ll name her… Jody.”

What about something more macho, like Alice, Marion or Sue?

Don’t forget to look long term, too. Look at the cute little girls name, Issippi. Issippi only works for girls until they get married. Miss Issippi is cool. Mrs. Issippi is a problem. And Mr. Issippi is just plain silly.

My point is that every name is likely already taken, and will probably conjure up a good or bad idea depending on your experience. Teachers have the hardest time choosing child names. Every name reminds a teacher of some obnoxious punk that they wanted to beat with chalk brushes.

There are plenty of cool names out there. I prefer to look at Geography for examples. Girls? Try Montana, Dakota, or Brooklyn. Boys? Washington is a strong, manly name. Personally, I wanted to name my son Cal. Cal Gary. I was told I was clueless.

That may or may not have been an insult.

I’m sure, somewhere in your subconscious, the real reason you are against the name Thor is the alien’s big head. No woman wants that.

Sincerely,
One Useless Man


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QUESTION # 310: HOT, SMART AND FAT

Dear Useless Men,

May I say how much I admire your work.

Anyway. My question is this. Can you be hot, smart and fat? Or does the fat bit cancel out the hot bit? And I'm not talking the kind of 'fat' that has special interest websites dedicated to it; I'm talking kind of porky.

Yours Anxiously,
Datingmonkey

Dear Datingmonkey,

There is no way a man was going to answer a question about fat and women. It’s like handling a rabid tiger with a hand grenade in its belly. Very dangerous. But not too dangerous for the Occasional Useless Gal!

Let me break this down into two categories. Here is the short and long of it all.

Short answer for smart and fat women: (10 words)

Fat(ter) = Big(ger) boobs
Boobs = hot
Big(ger) boobs = even more hot

Short answer for smart and fat men: (15 words)

Fat(ter) = Big(ger) man boobs
Man boobs = not hot
Big(ger) man boobs = even more not-hot

So ladies, go ahead and reach for those Twinkies - fat is your friend! Dudes, put down the hoagies and get to the gym. Not to be cruel or anything, but let's face it - we all know how superficial women can be!

Long answer: North Americans are getting fatter and fatter. "Fat", as a cosmetic concept, has always been relative. If you think you're tipping the scales a bit more than your counterparts, just keep your weight stationary for the next little while and wait for everyone else to catch up. The current trend strongly predicts this! You can even help your counterparts along by feeding them Timbits and Chicken McNuggets. Time is the great equalizer, and in this case, it is no different between the sexes.

* Note: if you couldn't follow the logic of the equations in the short answers, you may wish to reconsider your "smart" descriptor.

** Second Note: If the mention of Twinkies, Timbits, hoagies, and Chicken McNuggets didn't inspire thoughts of "Mmm! That sounds good - I think I'll go get some!" in you, you may wish to reconsider your "fat" descriptor.

Sincerely,
The Occasional Useless Gal


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QUESTION # 309: CAT MAN DON'T

Dear Useless Men,

I have a useless cat (or 5) that is peeing in my garden and killing all that is beautiful. Short of skinning said cat alive what should I do?

CatManDo...NOT!

Dear CatManDo,

Ridding your garden of the urinating cat (or cats) is either going to be an easy or a difficult task depending on how you approach the problem. Basically, it all comes down to money.

If your stomach grumbles for dinner every night, consider the coyote's tactics and place an order from an Acme catalogue. The coyote can't afford to buy dinner, yet he's able to acquire tons of weaponry and acceleration-devices from Acme, therefore, they must be free. I would suggest girl-bomb-cat in style A, with golden curls and autumn-sunset lipstick (Page 64, Spring/Summer catalogue). Now, be careful, as the bomb-cat contains enough TNT to blow you 500 meters into the sky, and turn you a nice charcoal colour.

Otherwise, its attractive, yet lumpy red body will surely lead the offending cat into a deadly dynamite trap.

You could employ the services of the Harlem Globetrotters. This option, although pricey, is socially sound. As you know, the Globetrotters are unsurpassed in their ball spinning and dribbling abilities. And they're even more effective when there's whistling involved. Imagine then, how effective they'll be spinning and tossing a kitty cat back and forth to the soothing sound of Sweet Georgia Brown 24 hours a day. Of course, you'll have to negotiate around lunch breaks and vacation time with their respective agents.

Finally, if you've got some cash to spare, you could try a Bio-Dome-style enclosure. A glass dome enveloping your entire estate would be sure to prevent any unwanted guests from entering, urinating, and poisoning your precious plants. The dome would not only block unwanted cats, and harmful UV rays, but if you cover the top with tin foil, you'll also block out the government's mind-reading radio signals. The downside is the expensive air ventilation system you'll have to install to avoid that Pauly Shore-style brain damage that's likely to occur.

Rumour has it Pauly Shore is available. Send him an email. I know you waaaaaaant to.

Sincerely,
The Useless Wonder


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QUESTION # 308: CAR BUYING STRESS

Dear Useless Men,

I know that this is long. If it is too long for your column, I will understand. I would love to have your take on my questions....

I am pretty independent. I was raised that way, and I am especially financially independent. I am 27, and the car I am driving now is my third car. My dad taught me how to haggle and buy my own car, and all the “scams” of auto dealerships, and how to get a good looking, mechanically sound car for a good price. I have picked them out and bought them all myself, with my own money, and have paid for all the repairs, insurance, registration, maintenance. My dad is a mechanic. When I was 16 my dad taught me how to change my own oil, and when I was 17 he taught me how to put in a transmission when mine went out. I don’t do these things now, but I am very astute to the goings on of my car, mechanical terminology, and the expenses involved. I picked out my last car almost 5 years ago. It has been wonderful, has all the features I desire, and I have been most happy with it.

My husband, bless his heart, has never bought his own car. He has been “given” every car he has ever driven and this year, at 26, I just forced him to pay for his own car insurance when we got married and I combined his policy with mine. This is also the first time he has paid for his own plates/registration and is beginning to pay for his own repairs. He doesn’t change his oil regularly (I don’t know if he ever does) and mine is always changed every 2000 miles with the idea that the engine will last thousands of miles.

It has come time that I consider looking for a new car. Mine will be paid off shortly and I would like to sell it before it’s not worth much to anyone, while it still holds a value. I have several ideas of what I would like my next vehicle to be, and I have certain options that I like to have, like adjustable seats, radio controls on the steering wheel, rear defrost, power windows and door locks, cruise, etc. I work a full time job and bring home my fair share of the bacon.

My husband needs a new car also. He has been driving the same one for about 8 years…. And I think he is just waiting for someone to “give him” his next car. Despite my urging, he has not taken the initiative to purchase himself a newer car. Last weekend, He came up with the idea that since my car is better mechanically, and 5-years newer than his, with lower miles and a better engine, that I should get a new vehicle and he drive my old one. I think that this is likely a wise decision. I had thought it myself but didn’t want it to seem like I deserve a new car and he doesn’t. However, I have a few things I worry about. If I give my car to him, will he ever get the oil changed? Will he smoke in it until it smells bad and he burns holes in the seat? Will he make sure it is repaired when it needs to be? Or will that be my responsibility because it is was my car, and because he doesn’t take care of vehicles like I was raised to do?

Then there are other things that are bothering me. I was planning on taking the $6000 or so dollars that I would get from selling my car and put it towards my new car, so that I could get a better vehicle with lower payments. If I “give” my car to him, and we sell his car, which is probably worth less than $2000, will I get that $2000 to put towards my new car? I am also concerned that he will take less for his car than it is worth, or try to give it to his friend with a verbal payment agreement, and then I will be the one getting screwed out of cash for a down payment on a new car.

Then he started discussing how “we” would go pick out a new vehicle for me. Knowing that we are now married, and that our money is now “together” and that we will likely start a family while owning this next vehicle, I understand the reasoning behind him wanting to help me pick out a vehicle. We have been together for 10 years, living together for 6 years, but up until this point, our money and vehicles have always been “separate.”

He also made the comment that this new car/SUV would be our “good vehicle” that we could use on family trips, dates, etc. That makes sense. But I have the following thoughts and what I call “unresolved ISSUES”: How much of a say should he have in picking out a vehicle that I will be driving every day to work? What if we argue about options that I insist on having (I am not 16 anymore, and if I will pay that much for a car, drive it everyday, and have it for more than 5 years, I expect to get options that I enjoy and want.)? What if he wants a completely different make/model/color/engine than I do? He has already mentioned “bright blue” which is the color of his current car, and I mentioned black (which is the color of my current car and my past two cars, and my favorite color.) He has never bought a vehicle before. I find that he tends to blabber and give out too much information when under pressure. What If he blows “the sale” by giving information that is none of the car dealer’s business?

Can you tell I am stressing about this?

Thanks,
Dazed

Dear Dazed,

Yes.

Sincerely,
One Useless Man


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QUESTION # 307: DISCLAIMER DISAGREEMENT

Dear Useless Men,

In a move that reveals my anal-retentiveness and attention to other peoples' details, I notice that the disclaimer at the bottom of your blog template says the following:

"All material submitted to this site become property of Useless
Advice for Useless Men and may be used in other formats in future."

Which is all well and good except that your site is called, "Useless Advice From Useless Men." So, actual error or clever ploy (the purpose of which escapes me at the moment)?

Sincerely,
Jagosaurus

Dear Jagosaurus,

Thank you for pointing this out. This isn't something I was all that familiar with until you mentioned it. But checking on stuff is part of being a Useless Man. So I did.

Anal retentiveness is a medical term. The more common term, among non-medical people, is constipation. And there are certainly many things one such as you can do about it.

Increasing the amount of bran in your diet would certainly be a good starting point. Many common foods such as brussel sprouts, asparagus and broccoli all have bran in them. In fact any food that tastes like crap probably will make you cra.... less constipated. If you are trying these foods for the first time dieticians recommend eating them in the bathroom. Apparently it saves cleanup time later.

For your problem with other people's "details" my research indicates that men and women are always comparing themselves with each other. And "details" are part of all of us. It's nothing to be ashamed of.

In fact, there is a whole industry built around "details" which keeps plastic surgeons, beauty consultants, Kleenex makers for women and sock makers for men employed. To say nothing of spammers who are always trying to get people to "fix" themselves up.

The crazy part is that for the most part all men and women are really looking for is someone who is nice to them and who doesn't stink really bad. The rest is just not all that important.

So eat lots of bran. And don't compare your details to other people’s details. Oh, and bath a lot.

I'm sure that once you have followed this advice you will feel like a new person. And the stomach cramps you must be enduring will go away.

Unfortunately, I don't have any space left to comment on the other stuff in your email. But dealing with your personal problems is far more important to us then any disclaimer mumbo-jumbo anyway. We are a caring bunch here at Useless Men as you probably have noticed.

Hope this helps.

Sincerely,
Another Useless Man


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QUESTION # 306: PAINFUL PACKING

Dear Useless Men,

I'm moving. Do you have any useless advice on how to making moving less of a chore? Any organizational tips? I can only afford really cheap movers (if any) but I worry that the really cheap movers will load everything I own into their cube van and never be heard from again. Except for the nice invoice they send for their moving services.

Signed,
Brokeback Grrl

Dear Brokeback,

This comes down to matter of timing. There are a few options available to you. They are all pretty dependant on how quickly you need your stuff to arrive at the new house. If you aren't in a hurry, I can suggest that you call the police and report your house as a suspected marijuana grow operation. They will storm the place, evict you, and seize the house and its contents as evidence.

Upon relocating all your stuff to their evidence locker, you will take possession of your new home, at which point they will eventually complete the investigation and return your belongings to you. Since you are now in the new house, they will bring your stuff there for you. There will be some delay in the closing of the investigation, but you'll not have to lift a thing.

If dealing with the police makes you nervous then I offer some additional tips to help you move based on your own merits:

1) A garage sale is a great way to reduce the amount of crap you have to pack and relocate. Consider holding at least one garage sale before your moving date. Just open your front door and put up a sign that says, “Make an offer. Everything’s for sale!” You’ll likely end up emptying your house in exchange for only a couple of hundred dollars, but consider the benefits:

A) When you factor in the cost of the movers, the replacement cost of lost and broken belongings, plus all the stress and heartache that goes with entrusting underpaid strangers with your prized possessions, you’ll actually have come out ahead.

B) There will be little or no packing after the sale is over as everything you own will have sold for $2.00 per item, or have been stolen.

C) You get to watch the freak show shoppers at the garage sale, which, when you factor in the cost of good entertainment these days, means you should be paying people to attend your sale.

D) You can count on having at least 7 aggressive bargainers who you can vent your stress and frustration at, which is the same as paying $125.00 per hour for a therapist.

2) When packing, it is important that you have enough boxes. Ask everyone you know for boxes. Retailers are a great place to grab boxes from as well. I like going to the local liquor retailer and asking for boxes. Getting the ones that are still full is even better. Packing is hard, depressing work, so the alcohol will numb the monotony of packing and make you oblivious to the amount of work you have in unpacking and setting up your new house.

3) Before you move you need to make sure you send out those change of address cards. This way, people will know where you are moving to. If you have annoying friends or relatives, you can't simply ignore them and not send them a card since they will know you are moving. Instead, you can send them cards with the moving to address being that of a local asylum or prison. This also works well for credit card companies to whom you owe crushing amounts of money. Sure, they’ll eventually find you, but by then you’ll have settled in and be ready to deal with them.

4) If you ignored the garage sale approach then be warned that in an effort to pack and prepare early, you’ll inadvertently pack essential items that you’ll need before moving day. Don’t try to tell me that you are too smart for that, as you’ll find yourself looking for that tequila, or your insulin on the night before only to find out it is in the bottom of a carton full of dishes that was at the bottom of that pile in the garage. In a David Copperfieldian style feat-of-mystery, I usually find the packing tape has found its way into a sealed carton after the last known use.

5) Perhaps the most important tip is that if you recruit friends and family to help you, rather than a moving company, any food/alcohol/sexual favours you are using as the proverbial carrot-on-a-stick be withheld until the last box is in the house. You can tell them that the money for the pizza/liquor bottles/condoms are in a box that hasn’t come in the house yet and that they should bring in the rest of them so you can find it.

I hope your move goes well and I’m sorry about the foreclosure.

Now if you don’t mind, I’m off to get more liquor boxes to pack for my own move. Now, where in the world did I pack my wallet?

Sincerely,
Any More Useless, I’d Be A Cat


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QUESTION # 305: MEAN AND STUPID

Dear Useless Men,

It seems to be a fact of life that girls are mean and boys are stupid, and this lasts throughout life. Stupid boys grow into stupid men while mean girls grow into mean women. Don't fool yourself, this applies to just about everyone with a gender.

Now, there's a certain line of thought that says that girls are mean because boys are stupid, that it's dealing with the stupidity that frustrates us and makes us take it out on those boys, and each other, and pretty much everyone.

But why are boys stupid?

Your answer could serve to enlighten everyone and maybe, just maybe, make girls less mean.

~A (mean) girl

Dear Mean Girl,

When I was little, I thought I was smart. Oh boy, did I ever. Turns out I wasn't. I was simply a smart ass. There's a difference. My mom tried to smack some sense into me but ended up giving me minor brain damage instead. That's my excuse, anyway. But it doesn't explain the rest of the world's men.

I know you'd like a quick answer, like boys are stupid because they're made of snips and snails and puppy dog's tails. Yes, snails and dog tails have very low Intelligence Quotients, but the line that precedes the creation of boys pokes holes in that theory. Basically, sugar and spice and everything nice would not mix to create a mean, nasty girl. She would, as logic dictates, turn out "nice".

The rhyme might explain things on the boy's end, but I don't think that's what's really going on. It's a little more complex.

Okay. Picture God as a vehicular manufacturing company. God is like Ford. They're actually very similar, even if you ignore the fact that they both have an O and a D in their names. Both created Mustangs - God's in the form a horse, Ford's in the form of a car. Both have billions of followers and worshippers worldwide. And both will ignore you if you write whiney letters complaining about stuff.

Boys are stupid because, like the Ford Focus when it first entered the market, God's first shot at man didn’t pan out. The Ford Focus, famous for having the largest number of recalls ever, is basically Man. Problems include really raunchy exhaust fumes and a yellow fluid leaking constantly, even after being topped up by a beer or two. In fact, more beer results in more leaking.

It's a piss-poor design, if you ask me.

But God, like Ford, took that original blueprint and improved upon it. Ford fixed all the doodads that were cracking, exploding, leaking and falling off the Focus. God, meanwhile, added headlights and offered accessories like stilettos. In the end, both had curvy designs admired by people worldwide, both proudly turned around a failing product, and both had men and deer alike constantly entranced by headlights.

Headlights. What a fantastic invention.

Sincerely,
The Useless Wonder


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QUESTION # 304: USELESS INTERNATIONAL DEBATE

Dear Useless Men,

I have Canadian friends who think they are more useless than me because I'm American. I tried to tell them that there is nothing more useless than an American man but they disagree.

Who's right?

Sincerely,
Living in America

Dear Living In America,

You're right. An American is more Useless. Here's why:

Canadians are too polite.

How can we get anything useful done if everyone is like "You first... No you first..." or "You have the last Timbit... No you have the last Timbit ..." you get the point. In our efforts to be nice and polite, we've sacrificed usefulness.

Canadians have an Appointed Senate in the Government.

That’s 105 people appointed by the Governor General to represent the Canadian population. The Senate sits in the Upper House or "Red Chamber" with its exquisite decoration (and a Throne) to rubber stamp whatever is put in front of them. Talk about a Useless bunch of fat cats.

"Ice" Hockey.

Canadians just call it Hockey. It wasn't even our National Sport until May 12th, 1994! Even then it only became Canada's National Winter Sport. Hockey shares National status with the Aboriginal-ly invented Lacrosse, the National Summer Sport. Hockey wasn't a National Sport for more than 100 years of Our Nations history, and when it did become one, it belittled the already existing National Sport! How Useless is that!

America has the Bomb, Canada has Beaver Tails

Beaver Tails are delicious, mind you. However, with the Bomb, if Americans want to be the most Useless, they darn well can be.

Sincerely,
One Useless Brother


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QUESTION # 303: PRE-WEDDING JITTERS

Dear Useless Men,

King of Useless-dom, what advice should I give my friend with pre-wedding jitters? She's freaked about... well, the usual: potential loss of freedom, long-term-can't-turn-back-commitment, projecting her parent's f-ed up marriage onto her own relationship, unforeseeable drastic changes in one or the other party involved, and general fear of fat-on-the-couch-in-ten-years misery. (She's in a ridiculously healthy relationship and will likely be running marathons with her husband at the age of 85.)

One useless sister

Dear One Useless Sister,

Having pre-wedding jitters is natural.

Your friend is suffering from Pre-Marriage Syndrome, or PMS, as it is more commonly referred to in psychiatric circles. There is no known cure for PMS but it does go away. For men.

For women PMS can reoccur throughout their married life. After women marry, psychiatrists refer to it as PMS, or Post Marital Syndrome.

As a side note, psychiatrists are traditionally not very good at coming up with acronyms. What they refer to as efficiency, most of us would just call being lazy.

In men, PMS passes following the engagement. Men don't really care about stuff all that much. In men, it usually takes the form of "Did I really ask her to marry me". "Oh crap" and "I wonder what's on tv tonight". Beyond that we are done.

In women, PMS is characterized by reoccurring doubt. Is the man I have chosen to live with for the rest of my life the right one? Will the marriage last? Will I have the freedom to eat a whole tub of ice cream once I'm married? Do I have to stay with this guy forever? Am I becoming my Mother? Will this creep change and when for goodness sake? Do I look fat in this dress? Why doesn't he put the toilet seat down? Is he useless or something?

For women, the best cure for PMS is to give her food and let her talk. No matter what she says, agree with her. As I'm sure you are aware, all women talk in circles anyway, so eventually she will talk herself back into the marriage. Try to shut her up at that point. If you were a guy, I would say to give her a hug, but since you're a girl, I guess you could do girl stuff. Have a pillow fight or maybe make some of that craft junk you girls like so much.

Be careful, women. Under no circumstance should you let her get between you and the exit. People have gone insane listening to women with PMS as they go on, and on, and on. Have an escape route planned.

Women, if you follow this advice, it won't be long before you can dump her on her unsuspecting fiancé.

Hope this helps.

Sincerely,
Another Useless Man


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QUESTION # 302: MUMMY CURSES! RUH-ROH

Dear Useless Men,

Hi. I dated Voix for a very brief period back in H.S. I'm afraid that I may have put a curse on her so that the rest of her dating life would be a catastrophe. (I was very much into the dark arts at the time). My problem is, I seem to have forgotten how to break the curse. I have tried using cats, but they have been useless. Even my effort to try and fix her up with one of my single friends failed spectacularly. Admittedly, I should have made sure he was born a man before setting them up. Do you know how to break curses?

Red2

Dear Red2,

Curses? Did you know that curses were down by 75% in the year 280 B.C.? And, not coincidentally, curses rose by a whopping 200% in the early 1900s when the number of stodgy hat-wearing British archeologists excavating Egyptian tombs spiked.

There aren't any modern-day people I know of who can cast curses upon people. Therefore, I can only assume you are a four-thousand-year-old Mummy. Everybody knows that crusty yellow Mummies are the ones who cast the most curses, and the most deadly.

As far as I know, no Mummy-induced curse has ever been broken, at least in recent centuries. But as useless as I am, I'm determined to find a way to break this curse you've placed on the sweet Voix.

Historically, curses are either verbally placed by the Mummy or automatically when a threshold has been breached. This happens when someone enters a place they are prohibited from entering, or takes something that they were not allowed to touch.

So this raises two questions. Has Voix taken anything valuable from you?

Or has she trespassed on some of your property?

I don't really know Voix very well at all. She stopped returning my emails when I started asking for pictures. But I still feel confident that she is not the thieving type, despite stealing my heart. Therefore, I suspect she trespassed on your property and perhaps stumbled upon something you were trying to hide, like an enormous counterfeiting operation.

I also suspect that if we were to pull off your wrappings and Mummy-mask, we'd discover that you're just an evil real estate developer with bad hair trying to scare everybody with your fake curses.

And if it weren’t for those pesky Useless Men, you would've gotten away with it, too.

Sincerely,
The Useless Wonder


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QUESTION # 301: PRE-HISTORIC BARBIE

Dear Useless Men,

With the weather over here getting better and better a question keeps popping into my mind that comes back every year and finally I know where to submit it: To the Useless Men...

What is it with this primal need of men to light up the BBQ with every first ray of sunshine and moreover, why are women banned from doing anything BBQ related when they do...? Next thing they are gonna drag us thru the garden by our hair!

DutchBitch

Dear DutchBitch,

You are absolutely correct You SHOULD submit questions to Useless Men. If everyone could please repeat after you: SUBMIT YOUR QUESTION TO USELESS MEN. End Transmission.

I don’t know what the seasons are like in your Dutch-land, (or is it Denmark?)… Let me start again.

I don’t know what the seasons are like “over there”, but I’m from Canada, and we have four distinct seasons.

Spring is the start of sunnier days. Summer is the one with the most rays of sunshine, and a patio favourite. Autumn, or Fall, is colourful and cool, and the perfect time to eat turkey. Winter is snow and car crashes. Canadians may claim to be experts on winter driving, but we still end up with 27 car pileups on highways. It’s like NASCAR on Ice (TM pending).

My point is that in Canada there is no specific BBQ season. We can BBQ year round. I can put on my mukluks in the deepest of winter and fire up that canister of propane for a succulent sirloin any day of the year. Anyone afraid to go out in the middle of a storm to charcoal a piece of red meat is not a man. Well, not a useless one.

“It takes a wiener to cook a wiener,” someone’s Dad always said. Seemed somewhat sexist, but then he’d light a blue angel the size of an oil refinery and we’d laugh and laugh as he dipped his flaming anus in the tropical yard pond.

Having said that, I ask you, would you go out in the midst of a thunderstorm to stand under a metal tipped umbrella next to a metal BBQ containing a large quantity of explosive gas? I’m guessing you would just switch your meal choice to a lean cuisine from the freezer. As long as the storm doesn’t knock out the power to your microwave, your new dinner is ready in four short minutes.

And even if you were willing to stand out there in all kinds of weather, you are just putting yourself at risk. With a good sized flame for a good cooked meat, you put yourself at risk of setting your hair on fire. That would only lead to the incessant references to Michael Jackson’s Pepsi incident, and the abuse just wouldn’t be worth it.

Besides, without hair, how are the men going to get you back through the garden? I’m not carrying any one with my bad back.

Sincerely,
One Useless Man


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QUESTION # 300: INFORMATION INVASION

Dear Useless Men...

As you may remember I found your blog a few weeks ago & thought it was completely entertaining! Even linked to you on my main blog (thanks for the comment there too!!). Anyways, a few friends and I thought it would be interesting to get a female perspective on things, but I thought it would be proper to let you know since the idea basically came from you (although we won't be giving Useless Advice, per se...)... we'd also like to link to you on our new blog if you don't mind...

BTW, you don't need to include this lil email in your blog *LOL*

~~> your local Venusians
The View from Venus
... What a spectacular view it is!


Dear Venutians,

They say that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. In this, we are touched that anything we wrote made you want to write anything of your own. Although we are not unfamiliar with the concept, as much of our bathroom graffiti was started on an empty stall wall that is full only a week later, what is funnier is that this particular imitation is contradictory in two ways:

First, in imitating us, you have copied a useless concept but have made the error of trying to give useful advice. I'm not commenting on your ability to give constructive criticism, but we have a good laugh at faulty copies as it helps us feel better about our inferiority complex.

Second is that you profess to be providing a useful service. In the quest to provide useful advice from women, it is my sincere opinion that you have rendered your attempt useless in itself. Let me walk you through it.

Women are a section of the race that strives for constant improvement. They want better food, thinner bodies, nicer clothes, more polite men, and the like. In their quest for a better world, they are compelled by genetics to offer opinions. If you ask a question anywhere near women the answers will begin to flow like the tide, whether your question was rhetorical or not. In providing the world with another source of the answers we are constantly inundated with, you are performing a function that is redundant. Redundant is just a thousand dollar word for useless, after all.

Although this may sound like I'm against the concept, you would be mistaken. What I really want to say is good work and keep it up. I've checked out the site and am eerily reminded of the 1973 movie classic Invasion of the Bee Girls written by Nicholas Meyer.

With this in mind, I am appealing to anyone who knows these Venutians to send me the heart attack statistics for their town as I have a theory that they are staging a massive invasion soon. My fears are solidified by the fact that their posts are weekly instead of daily.

So, let me be the first to offer my support and praise for these fine creatures. I shall take any required effort to kiss their backsides, taking care to avoid the stinger of course, as they will soon eradicate the males of our species. May your days on our world be as productive and fruitful as they were in the hive back on Venus.

Obediently Yours,
Any More Useless, I'd Be A Cat


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QUESTION # 299: GENETICALLY LEARNED BEHAVIOURS

Dear Useless Men,

Hi to my favorite Canadians. :-)

Question to you:

Is it a genetic thing, you know, the whole 'useless man thing' or is it a learned behavior?

For instance, at a pool party last week, my friend was there with her 3-month-old baby. I was holding the baby, and handed it over to my son, and he held the child like a dirty diaper and asked "What am I supposed to do with this" referring to the child. My daughter came over, and picked the baby up, and started cuddling and talking to her, like she had been raised around babies all her life.

There has to be something to this.

Signed,
A mother, trying very hard not to make him into a useless man.

Dear A Mother,

I'm not a Canadian, but I've been there twice. I think that qualifies me as an honorary Mountie.

The world we live in is a tangible place, as anyone who has ever been hit in the head by a blunt object can tell you. It is not a philosophy, nor a construct of the mind, but a hard, fast factual quantification that things and objects exist. This is the world with which men concern themselves; things which can be measured or influenced by any of the five senses.

While men are lucky that their jaunts into the dark, swirling vortex which constitutes the emotional plane are rare and fleeting, women, on the other hand, have become its chief residents. Oftentimes they carve a niche for themselves there, refusing to ever leave.

It is from this place--this world of the unreal, where up is purple and down is an insult--that babies draw their bleak powers.

On the surface, babies seem as though they can't protect themselves. They're squishy little pink gobbets filled with slop. They have no claws. They can't spit acid. They're so armour-less that even their heads are soft and pliant.

Yet, babies are not so defenseless as they would have you believe. Babies are detestable little siphons, drawing power from the emotional plane, channeling it in undulating bursts of cuteness. They strike to the very core of what a woman believes, rendering her helpless to their will. By harnessing this infernal energy they acquire food, comfort, attention, and squeaky ducks, cows and bears. This might come in the form of a mewling coo; it might be the way one grasps an adult’s pinky finger with cute little hands; it is evident in their laugh. All are designed with the implicit goal in mind of manipulating the larger of the species into acting in the baby's interests.

And this, they execute with startling aplomb. Except when it comes to most men.

When a baby laughs, your son does not suddenly have a new car. When it puts a spoonful of mashed peas on its head, your son does not get chiseled pecks. He is similarly denied any gain when a tired baby yawns in such a way that its nose wrinkles and its little mouth seems to stretch the entire length of its gooey face. Unlike women, witnessing heartwarming things is not enough to brainwash a man into mindless servitude. Everything has an opportunity cost.

He could hold a baby, but then he couldn't be playing with a sweet pair of nunchuks. He could hold a baby, but then he couldn't be doing an ollie off a half-pipe. He could be holding a baby, but then he couldn't be owning noobs in Counterstrike. All of these provide real, tangible additions to men's lives.

Things are different if you're married though. If, as a man, your wife tromps over to you and bids you take the damn baby off her hands so she can watch Oprah without the impairment of being constantly bombarded by its trilling warble, you, of course, hold it. Because we could hold the baby, or we could never get laid ever again.

But don't expect us to like it.

Because we could be watching Baywatch.

Sincerely,
Just Plain Useless


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QUESTION # 298: RENT MY BLOG EXPLOSION

Dear Useless Men,

Recently I rented my blog to you guys.

Coincidentally, ever since then I have been experiencing light-headedness, blurry vision and a distinct burning sensation when I make pee-pee in the potty. Can you explain the coincidence?

Schad

Dear Schad,

Due to budget cutbacks, the Useless Office Nurse had to be let go, so I have no one to consult with. We tried cutting her back to 3 days a week, but the budget just couldn't stretch far enough, even if she was willing to work for negative one dollar an hour. That is, she paid us to work for us.

As such, our scalps have gone unchecked for lice in months, and our complaints of liquid bum are met with Imodium coupons and beer. Anyway, with her out of the picture, I will attempt to answer your question on my own.

I'm afraid to tell you this, but I think you've angered the gods. While we've been so concerned with life on this earthy ball, we haven't noticed that Norse God, Odin, has started up his own webtranet-type company. They monitor web traffic and chart the progress of various websites, at least when they're not busy destroying unworthy mortals with lightning bolts and such.

It seems that our sites were not compatible due to relative usefulness. Odin has noticed this incompatibility and it has angered him. For some unknown reason he has decided to bestow his fury upon you instead of us. The blurry vision is likely brought on by the swooshy low-pressure system created above you as Odin descends from Valhalla with his Valkyries.

The light-headedness you feel is likely brought on by the charging of a lightning bolt. Just before lightning strikes, it attracts electrons from below as it searches for a target tall enough. For your sake, I hope you're not very tall because from the sound of it, Odin is very close to you and I suspect that by the time this reply has been posted, that lightning bolt may have already transformed you into something crispy and smouldering.

As for the burning sensation when you take a tinkle, I can't explain that. Maybe you should see a doctor. Oh, and if you run into our former Useless Office Nurse, tell her she still owes us 8 bucks.

Sincerely,
The Useless Wonder


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QUESTION # 297: MISS UNDERSTOOD

Dear Useless Men,

I am a legend in my own mind. Unfortunately, there are some people who just won't get with the program and agree with me.

How do I make them see the error of their ways? I'm offering free koolaid; you'd think they would be grateful. But noooo.

So my question is, which is better, an uzi or a shotgun?

Thank you,
Miss Ann Thrope.

Dear Ms. Thrope,

As all veterans of the zombie-filled strata of modern interactive entertainment are aware, there is no clear cut advantage in using an uzi over a shotgun, or vice versa. Like all tools, both have their uses depending on the situation. To put things in a woman's perspective, allow me to illustrate the differences in a setting with which you are familiar.

You're at the outlet stores. You just found a gorgeous pair of bright red Manolo Blahnik 'Mama's spent one too many Friday nights watching Anna Nicole reruns and now she's on the prowl so you better buy her a drink right now mister!' heels. Okay? These things will guarantee a night of passionate monkey love or talking or whatever it is you want. So, you go to grab them and some hoochie swoops in and snags them right out from under your nose! Before you can represent, she makes for the register. What are you going to use? The shotgun, or the uzi?

Check back tomorrow for the answer and the exciting conclusion!




Just kidding.

You whip out your MAC-10. That's the uzi. It's compact, so you can carry it in your favourite Gucci bag. It's lightweight, so you can hold it up even though all the time you spend at the gym is for cardio because you're afraid that strength training will make your boobs small. It's got a 25 round magazine (no, not Entertainment Weekly. You can read all about how Brad's secret calls to Jen are making Angelina cry when you're done) which means you can miss 24 times in a row if need be. And finally, it's automatic, so you can miss those 24 shots in rapid succession. Once the 25th round finds a nice comfy spot right between her shoulder blades, you can slip the heels on and step on the head of your vanquished foe while performing the 3-snap in the Z-formation.

So if the Uzi's so great, when, I hear you asking, do you get to use the shotgun? For this to work, I need you to imagine a serene suburban setting. Sun shining. Children playing. Maybe some husbands mowing lawns. Dogs barking. Aahhh. Paradise on earth, right? On your way home you decide, on a whim, to change the ringtone on your cell phone. You have the volume high because you need to be able to hear it over that damn annoying engine and the screams of the people you nearly run over. While scrolling through the list, you come across "The Entertainer" and forget, for a moment, what song that is.

Then it hits you; memories come flooding back. "That's the song the ice cream man used to play," you think. Suddenly, heads begin to perk up. There's a car going down the street playing the ice cream man song! The children set down their balls. The men turn off their lawnmowers. Suddenly, you are beset by the denizens of suburbia, clawing, foaming at the mouth, screaming for Choco Tacos! What do you do?

You pull out your shotgun, of course.

These people are hot, dammit. No mere handgun is going to stop them coming at you. You need something big, and you need it now. The shotgun has the stopping power you need to put these people down. Why bother with a simple phrase like, "I'm sorry everybody, but I'm not really driving an ice cream truck," when several rounds of shot delivered to the sternum can say it in such a viscerally pleasing manner?

From the safety of your SUV you are free to reload and plug away until you've carved a bloody swathe down Maple Street.

Once you're done, don't forget to choose a new ringtone. I suggest "Who Let the Dogs Out," or "The Macarena," because you can play either of those as you drive away for great comedic effect.

Sincerely,
Just Plain Useless


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