QUESTION # 644: EVERYTHING IS DUCT-Y

Dear Useless Men,

Hi there, Useless bunch!

I have a Useful Man sneaking around my house, opening cans, taking out the garbage, and all things guys are (not) supposed to do. He's doing a fine job.

However, I am unhappy. I do not really need a can opener nor a curb specialist. Actually, I do not *need a guy at all. But I do enjoy good company. As it happens, I have known a totally Useless guy for almost ten years who does none of the above, but he's great company. He has no claims to fame in regard of cutting firewood or chasing wild boar. He's finishing a totally useless PhD and is passionate about indie movies and deep in student debt at 30+. As it (also) happens, so am I.

What kind of advice could you give to a highly useless gal, only moderately functional in society, regarding to the questions as follows i) how to kindly tell the Useful guy to be useful somewhere else where can & curb specialists are useful and ii) taking the big leap of faith of going totally Useless, but with a great bunch of values to go with that and of course, keeping the conversation flowing, which already is the case.

Many thanks in advance,
Not Using™

Dear Not Using™,

May I suggest that you simply slip away in the dead of night. You could distract him with a heap of garbage in the middle of the living room and twenty cases of canned soup in the kitchen. His strange compulsion to deal with both will buy you all the time you need to make your escape. This fellow sounds like trouble. Any attempts you make to explain your departure will be met with futile efforts to work things out.

As for taking the leap into full time uselessness, I'd say you are well on your way. May I suggest that you check out your values however? While it is admirable to hold certain things near and dear to your heart, you will find that values will accidentally breed usefulness. We are not suggesting you become amoral at all, but being truly useless will require a certain loosening of your mindset. Seeing things that others do will encourage you to act and this makes you useful. Not a good start.

We here at Useless HQ tend to prefer to hold value for things like duct tape, which will at first seem like a useful item but upon further examination will be proven useless. It may be put to use in a repair of something broken but any tape repairs are doomed to failure, making them useless repairs.

Another thing we hold of value would include a good burger. Said burger needs to be made by someone else though if you wish to remain utterly useless.

I would suggest you ease yourself into your uselessness. Being a gal, you only think you are useless, and once you started down the path to true uselessness you will be astonished to see how useful you were really being all these years. This will take time to deprogram but there is hope.

I suggest you spend the upcoming weekend at home with a Three Stooges video marathon and a case of beer. This should start you down that slippery slope of true uselessness. People will resist, but anything worth doing is worth doing right. Drop us a line once you are on your way to let us know how you’re making out or for any more tips.

If we don’t hear from you we will assume you have made your way to true uselessness and are unable to function around even basic technology. In which case, I offer my congratulations.

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


Send your questions to Useless Advice from Useless Men! Click here.

Subscribe to Useless email updates. Click here.

QUESTION # 643: NIPPLE RESEARCH

Dear Useless Men,

Why do men have nipples? Are there any research books that will help enlighten your readers?

Ellie

Dear Ellie,

Men’s nipples exist for one reason: to be pierced. And it all stemmed from men’s inability (or unwillingness) to listen.

Basically, it began when cavemen discovered their cavewomen would not listen to their grunting. This resulted in the first case of physical violence as cavemen began dragging their cavewives by their hair. Whether they wanted food, sex, or their itchy loincloth washed, the super-sexy result was always the same – grabbing the cavewife’s luscious locks and dragging her into the cave.

But when the cavemen went off to hunt during the day, the cavewives began getting together to complain about their common problem: sore scalps and gravel-burn on their derrieres.

After some brainstorming, a plan was put into motion to pierce the cavemen’s nipples with some sharpened bone while they slept, then tie a rope through the holes so they could give the men a taste of their own medicine.

This resulted in the first housebroken man. Who's going to argue when your tender, pierced nipples are at stake? Logically, nobody. Learning to keep your mouth shut - so simple even a caveman can do it.

It’s an evolutionary thing. If not for nipples, men would still be running wild, hunting wild game, having wild sex, and doing whatever the darn bloody heck they wanted.

Thousands of years later, just look how sophisticated and different men are. It’s amazing, isn’t it? But despite how far men have evolved, there are some similarities between modern man and his ancient kin. We still have nipples. But now-a-days, they’re pierced for an entirely different reason: coolness.

Sincerely,
The Useless Wonder


Send your questions to Useless Advice from Useless Men! Click here.

Subscribe to Useless email updates. Click here.

QUESTION # 642: IT'S NICER, CLEANER AND A LITTLE TO THE LEFT

Dear Useless Men,

Which is the best Canadian city to live in and why?

Local Vagabond

Dear Local Vagabond,

There is a common misconception among denizens of this big spinning ball we call Earth that, just because Canada exists, it has cities.

This couldn't be further from the truth. Allow me to explain.

Canada is a vast, barren, lifeless, soulless expanse of tundra and broken dreams, the monotony of which is broken only by the occasional moose and bowl of poutine (no one knows who put them there). Canada is also one of the youngest country's around, reason being that everyone always knew it was there just, but nobody wanted to take responsibility for it. Sort of like the dog doo you find lying in the corner of your living room. Everyone just kind of ignores it till it starts to stink. It was accidentally founded in 1986 by the LeBeau family as they drove to Niagara Falls and took a wrong turn out of Detroit. A non-plussed Mr. LeBeau claimed to have been looking for a shortcut and never meant to find the country and he'd take it back if he could; a more animated Mrs. LeBeau kept screaming, "Merde!"

Ever since that day Canada has attracted almost a dozen tourists a year (none of which are the LeBeau’s). They are drawn to its mediocre natural beauty and its approximate 91-square feet of habitable surface. "Canadians," as a people, do not in fact exist; they are a fictitious rendering along the lines of elves or faeries, and are sometimes invoked by sweaty virgins on the internet when pressed about the status of their inter-gender relations.

"I do so have a girlfriend! ...she just lives in Canada and you can't meet her. I met her blogging."

Much as I'd like to end this on a completely sarcastic note, I'm pretty sure I'm the only non-Canadian Useless Man that doesn't live there and can say it, at least, has captivated me enough to make the thousand or so mile trip to visit it at least three times. I have kayaked its inlets, hiked its trails, partaken of its nightlife, slept in its hostels, and laughingly ignored its pleas that I convert my miles-per-hour driving into kilometres-per-hour. The times that I went, Canadian money was worth about .0000002% of American money so I stayed at the finest hotels and drinks were on me. It's not like that now, so buy your own darn drink. And I hate to stereotype, but Canadians are about 14 billion times nicer than Americans. I'm not saying everyone is, but if you had to walk around LA and Vancouver blindfolded and guess which one you were in by who you ask for help, my bet is you'd be right your first try.

So to answer your question, my favorite city is Vancouver. Trendy, forward thinking, diverse, great food, lots of bars and clubs, interesting historical things all around (Gastown is charming), great shopping (every corner has a shoe shop and a pizza place), fantastic architecture, and you just might even stumble upon a TV show or movie being shot. Just watch out for all the bums!

Oh, and remember: Canadians drive on the left side of the road, and a big joke among Canadians is to watch the border for an incoming American then to quickly pretend that they drive on the same side as us. DON'T BE FOOLED; they won't respect you unless you drive on the left too.

Sincerely,
Just Plain Useless


Send your questions to Useless Advice from Useless Men! Click here.

Subscribe to Useless email updates. Click here.

QUESTION # 641: WITHOUT A PADDLE DELUXE

Dear Useless Men,

I'm having my new girlfriend over to my house for dinner for the first time this Friday. I told her I would cook her a fantastic, romantic meal. In fact, I told her I used to be the head chef at a fancy restaurant back in my hometown. The problem is, I can never even get Kraft Dinner right! What should I do?

Sincerely,
Up The Creek Without a Ladle

Dear Paddling-Frantically without a Ladle,

Well...well...well...

You really are up the creek sans a ladle! Your girl is going to know when she walks in that you don’t know how to cook, depending solely on how clean your kitchen is and the aroma in your house. There are three major stops you need to make to make it out of the house:

Stop 1: A local home-style restaurant, in which, every type of food you have claimed to excel in (to prove your worth)

Stop 2: A local grocery store for rather cheap sauces that match scent and colour to your main cuisine (to splash around the kitchen)

Stop 3: A flower shop for gorgeous flowers, native to whatever land your food is from

The importance is not in order of the stops, so follow along carefully! The flowers are to ensure that she MIGHT forgive you once she realizes that you, with your infinite (more like useless), wisdom decided to MSU (make stuff up). The sauces are to make it look like you really tried on your own BEFORE you went to the local home-style restaurant to ensure that you would both eat (and survive your meal)!

Good luck!

One Useless Chick


Send your questions to Useless Advice from Useless Men! Click here.

Subscribe to Useless email updates. Click here.

QUESTION # 640: BABYSITTERS BLOGGING CLUB

Dear Useless Men,

My sister likes me to babysit her three kids. They are hooligans though. She doesn't know that I lock them all in separate closets and blog till she gets back. This has been working just fine but now one of the brats has been learning how to speak and might actually begin to complain. How can I shut them up?

Auntie Dearest

Dearest Auntie,

Whew! Finally! An easy one for the Intern! I was so afraid the Trademarked Advice Randomizer was going to spit out another one of those "how do I shave the middle of my back without cutting myself?" or "where's the best place to buy hypo-allergenic duct tape?" type questions. Seriously. I know the thing is supposed to be "random", but I swear it picks all the freak questions and sends them to me. I may have to stop feeding the hamster on the wheel and see if that clears things up...

But, as I said, your question is an easy one. Being the oldest of seven children, I've had plenty of experience "taking care" of kids and making sure they didn't talk later.

In my day, it was all about timing and bribery. You can do almost anything to a kid as long as you become their best friend five minutes before their parents return.

You can hold them down and threaten to spit in their face. You can make them clean your room. You can lock them outside in sub-zero temperatures. Pretty much anything, really, as long as you turn it around in those last five minutes by letting them play with something they covet.

For my brothers, it was my GI Joes. They weren't allowed to look at my GI Joes, let alone touch them! So, whenever I needed to make them forget a couple hours worth of abuse, I'd invite them to play. And... voila! No tattling and no repercussions for me!

Thanks to the advances of technology, there's an even easier course of action for you. It's called a Furby. Yeah, it is quite possibly the most annoying little toy to be mass-produced in China, but it has an almost hypnotic lure for little kids. And therein lies the key to your imminent problem.

Just buy a Furby and let the one who's learning to speak play with it while he's in the closet. I guarantee that, within the course of a week, that kid's speech development will not only be halted, he'll have picked up a completely unintelligible language that will have his parents scratching their heads and looking for the number of a good speech therapist.

He'll be so unable to communicate (except with the beloved Furby) that you'll be able to blog to your heart's content without a worry in the world!

And, hey... If all else fails, you can do what our babysitter does: Put 'em to work answering disturbing questions from total strangers!

Sincerely,
Useless Intern


Send your questions to Useless Advice from Useless Men! Click here.

Subscribe to Useless email updates. Click here.

QUESTION # 639: CAN YOU SPARE AN OPENER

Dear Useless Men,

How do you open a can of tuna/ beans/ etc if you can not find your can opener?

Signed,
Woman with a Very Big Rock in her Hand

Dear Woman with a Very Big Rock in her Hand,

First, may I suggest that you drop the rock and back away from the can slowly. Opening cans with rocks may seem like a good idea but it will usually render the contents of the can unusable.

Since you seem bent on destruction, and not consumption, then allow me to suggest some far more ingenious methods of destruction. The simplest, and often most pungent, method would be to stuff the can in question inside of a fire. Some will say that vent holes would be a good idea. I say it robs you of the satisfying bang that comes when you know that the can is opened! It also saves some nasty burns as you fish around a live fire checking to see if it opened yet.

If you are afraid of getting burned then you can move on to more mechanical solutions. You can try to run over the can with your car but you'll find it doesn't weigh enough. A more effective solution would be to place the can in front of the bay door at your local fire station. Once the can is positioned, you can call the department to have them put out the fire you used to open the first can. When the incredibly heavy truck rolls over your can it will pop like a balloon. You also have the satisfaction of knowing that your fire won't take out two or three counties.

While these are all effective methods of overcoming the problem of opening the can, they overlook the obvious question. What if the can contains not vegetable or soup, but something edible like spam, corned beef or chili? Well, a solution that doesn't destroy the contents is a far more appealing solution.

You could use your rock to bludgeon your neighbor and steal their can opener but my mother always said that violence isn't the answer. So, apparently, that's not a great solution. Working with several people can make your problem far easier to solve. Using a person who your neighbor doesn't recognize, you have them drop a summons notice on them. When they head out to court to face up to the bogus charges, you have open access to their house. What if they locked the doors? Remember your rock? Glass is no match for the rock! Remember that game, Rock, paper, glasses? Paper cover rock, glasses burn paper, rock smashes glasses with a punch in the face!

Using said rock to grant yourself access to their kitchen you get to use their can opener to get to the yummy goodness within. The best part is that you can use their dishes and appliances to heat up and enjoy your vittles as well. Plus, you don't have to do dishes either, so this is the best solution of all!

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


Send your questions to Useless Advice from Useless Men! Click here.

Subscribe to Useless email updates. Click here.

QUESTION # 638: IT'S PRONOUNCED "NED"

Dear Useless Men,

People spell my name wrong now and then, some of the versions they come up with are pretty funny. Some make me wonder how long it took them to get that creatively wrong. What are some ways people have spelt your name wrong? Not just typos like Daer Useless Men, you must have something better than that by now.

Signed,
Spelling Obsessed Fan

Dear Spelling Obsessed Fan,

What are you? The Spelling Nazi? The fact that people spell your name wrong is not the problem, but a symptom of the problem. Perhaps if you didn't go around having a name that could be so easily misspelled, this wouldn't happen. Maybe your parents gave you your name at first, but the point here is that you're a grown person capable of moseying on down to the local social security office and changing your name to something a little more palatable to the modern person. Here are a few helpful hints:

You should change your name when…

It has enough vowels to bankrupt a player if it were featured on Wheel of Fortune.

It sounds like it belongs on the menu at a fancy restaurant.

It can't be said while burping.

It contains more syllables than the name of the city in which you were born.

If people say "Gesundheit!" when you introduce yourself.

You always knew when the substitute teacher got to your name on the role sheet because of the terrified pause that preceded it.

It requires its own punctuation

It's Kevin (think about anyone you've ever known named Kevin and tell me he's not a tool).

If you want some examples what to change your name to, just go down to the local auto repair shop and check out the name-patches sewn into the mechanics' coveralls. As a rule, nature bestows mechanical prowess only to those whose names can fit onto a two or three inch oval. Something like Frank or Bob or Jim or Don or Bill works best. If you're ethnic (meaning you refer to Chinese, Mexican, Indian, or Italian restaurants as just "restaurants") you can either take the English name that sounds closest to your own or just knock it down to the first two or three letters. For instance, Alonso becomes Al; Xian because John, Pierre Pete, and so on and so forth.

Why go to all this trouble? Just remember that when people write invitations, it's a lot less troublesome for them to rationalize a deep-seated and inexplicable hatred for you than it is to just figure out how to spell your name correctly. Fellas named Tim Smith go to a lot more parties than dudes named Frendaelj Von Heigzenaufer.

Sincerely,
Just Plain Useless


Send your questions to Useless Advice from Useless Men! Click here.

Subscribe to Useless email updates. Click here.

QUESTION # 637: LATE SHIFT IS CHILD'S PLAY

Dear Useless Men,

I'm beginning the night shift at work today. Any good advice for adjusting from day shift to night shift?

Sleepless in Ontario

Dear Sleepless In Ontario,

Aaaahhh, Night Shifts. Oh, how I could wax nostalgic about the times spent in the wee hours of night in my childhood. My Dad would take my brother and I to work with him on the overnight shift at the plastics plant where he was a shipper/receiver. A shipper/receiver of plastics. Or, as he'd have us call him, Boss.

In the small shipping (and receiving) office, we'd start the night off with the free coffee (or hot chocolate) (or lemon tea) dispensed from the cafeteria coffee machine. You just hit the button of your preference and in 30 seconds you had a warm beverage! It even added sugar and milk! Cool for coffee. Not cool for Lemon tea.

My Dad would get the rundown from the afternoon Boss while I ogled the Sunshine Girl pin-up from the local Sun hanging on the bulletin board. These were different times back then. Great for an impressionable youth like myself, but not so for my political correctness.

For the first hour my brother and I would just hang in the office while my Dad ventured off on the fork lift to places unknown. Sometimes we'd step out to the industrial scale beside the office and weigh ourselves. I didn't know at the time that the company offset the scale to accommodate the 40 lb skids. For years I thought I was a 50 lb weakling.

When Dad returned from the places of fearsome dangers, (we weren't allowed to leave the warehouse), the fun stuff began. He would get my brother and I to stack the order slips in order of priority delivery and whoever finished first got a head start on the forklift races.

Ooooh, the Forklift Races. The first race consisted of us pulling stock off shelves and placing it in an open area in order of its position in the truck. My brother usually won these on account he had more geography schooling.

My Dad, who didn't want me to get discouraged, would often give me bonus time for the next race: unloading and reloading the trucks. Oh, how Dad would get nervous as we double stacked the skids, but we never let him down by hitting the roof or sides of the truck. We were good.

Not having learned how to ride a bike yet, I was at a disadvantage some with the forklifts. However, the final challenge was where I would shine. The filing of the companies yellow slips from the orders! While pulling the stock and loading the truck, we had to be sure to rip out the yellow copies.

My brother often chose speed over completeness, and would more often then not have to climb through the truck and retrieve a forgotten slip. This meant loads of extra time for me!

Oh, the fun we had every Friday and Saturday night. In the mornings, my Dad would let us treat him to breakfast, and after all the fun he let us have at his work, it was the least we could do! I still remember him bragging to his buddies about how he got his kids to do his work ... which didn't sound right. I always thought it strange how he called our play, “work.” But he was proud of how quickly we caught on to the job.

Actually, I never really thought about it. I think he was getting us to do HIS work! I'll have to ask Dad about this.

Now, come to think of it, my job at the lumberyard was essentially shipping and receiving. Don't get me wrong. I've always enjoyed that job best! But jeepers, I think my Dad was breaking child labour laws.

Oh sure, our fun had your standard half hour lunch break and 2 fifteen minute breaks. But now, upon long reflection, I feel used!

Listen closely Sleepless! I can't tell you how to adjust, but if you take you kids for special "Daddy weekend time" then you won't have to worry about it.

Promise me this though: don't make the kids buy you breakfast in the morning. That was low, Dad.

That was low.

Sincerely,
One Useless Brother


Feel like you're getting used? We'll verify the facts for you! Send your questions to Useless Advice from Useless Men! Click here.

Subscribe to Useless email updates. Click here.

QUESTION # 636: TWO MINUTES FOR UNSPORTSMANLIKE CONDUCT

Dear Useless Men,

My guy thinks he can play hockey. He can't even skate all that well. How can I tell him, without squishing his esteem like a bug, that they aren't really laughing with him?

Signed,
Hard to Watch

Dear Hard to Watch,

To be honest, most guys think they can play hockey. In reality, there is a minimal percentage of even professional hockey players that can actually play hockey. The rest of the guys just skate around and try to look competent.

What works in their favour is the simple fact that most people really don't understand hockey enough to truly understand what makes a good player. If you think it's a simple game that anyone can play, just watch the players in their pre-game skate. You can immediately see proof that not even everyone that is suited up is capable in that they often miss the net that has absolutely no goalie in it. With nobody there to block the shot, every shot should be a winner. Most tend to miss.

What you should be doing, instead of crushing his self-esteem, is to do what most people who back useless players do. Blame their flaws on the shoddy referees.

Anybody who doubts the prevalence of this technique should simply go to any hockey game, especially the minor leagues, and see what kind of invective language is hurled at the referees. You want to talk about thick-skinned?

If these guys in the black and white striped shirts don't go home and cry themselves to sleep at night, they've got more backbone than some Marines! If your guy gets called for hooking, you can scream and yell at the ref to make your guy think more of himself. Instead of doubting his skills, he'll be encouraged. He’ll also begin to transfer the blame for his shoddy games on the referees as well.

Everybody wins in this situation.

Your guy will continue to play the game he enjoys so much, and is absolutely horrible at. You will now have something to fill your time with by yelling and screaming at the ref, with the added bonus of polishing your insults at home to better your performance at the next game.

It can be argued that the referees don't win because of all the abuse they take, but are we really worried? Stupid refs couldn't see proper hooking penalty if it hit them in the face.

Sincerely,
Any More Useless, I'd Be A Ref....uhhhh....Cat


Send your questions to Useless Advice from Useless Men! Click here.

Subscribe to Useless email updates. Click here.

QUESTION # 635: RANDOM LAUNDRY MUSINGS

Dear Useless Men,

Where do all the lost laundry bit of things (like socks) go?

Lost in Laundry

Dear Lost in Laundry,

Being Useless, I can’t really tell you where all the missing socks go, but I do know where all the cool socks go. Most of the time they are simply running away from home. I mean, come on. Would you stick around if your parents threw you in a giant drum full of cold water every week, added some bad-tasting chemical with a misleading name like “SunLight”, and shook you around for an hour? Probably not.

If your socks are missing, it’s probably because you haven’t been giving them the loving care and attention they need. You’ll have to face the facts: They’ve run-away. But without any skills, it’s hard for them to make a living on the streets. Some will become squeegie socks, while others will be lost to drugs.

It’s not just socks either. I remember the last time I lost my Heathcliff UnderRoos, and found them smoking up in the shed. I didn’t have the time or patience to rehabilitate them, and I was a little concerned about putting anything with the munchies on my bottom. Instead, I donated them to the Salvation Army so they could learn some discipline. Kinder people might send their disobedient clothing to Amity or Goodwill, or both, who can find them some good jobs covering someone’s unsightly crotch areas, and area often left uncovered by celebritneys.

If your socks were good, you may be lucky and find them at the cool hang-outs, like the arcade at the mall. Ever wonder where your quarters for the dryer went? Your socks are pumping them into Nuclear Monkey Tennis like there is no tomorrow. You wouldn’t believe how many socks you can find behind Ms PacMan.

But don’t worry too much. You can catch them when they get thirsty and head to the pop machines in the food court. See, socks can’t speak. Not without a hand inside them anyway. They just can’t walk up to New York Fries and order a tall glass of frothy soda. They will be forced to use a pop machine.

Don’t you think pop machines should have a “random” button? A “random” button for those of us who a) can’t make up our mind, and b) want a surprise. I think that would be nice and would increase pop sales by a) appealing to gambling addicts, and b) forcing others to purchase a second selection when they end up getting an Orange Fanta, which they hate, since it reminds them of the time they puked at Summer Camp. Yes, a “random” button would be a great asset to the old-fashioned pop machine which really could use a modernification.

Oh, and a “Diet random” button for the fatties.

Sincerely,
The Useless Wonder


Send your questions to Useless Advice from Useless Men! Click here.

Subscribe to Useless email updates. Click here.

QUESTION # 634: DOORSTOPS ARE USEFUL

Dear Useless Men,

Is there some reason I can't just use my useless husband as a doorstop? I really have not found other uses for him. I thought he could at least hold the door open when I bring in the groceries but he said it was too far from the TV.

Non-Useless Woman

Dear Non-Useless Woman (or, just “Woman”),

What we have here is a classic case of a Useful Man trying to come across as Useless. You're being duped. There is no reason why you can't use your husband as a doorstop and he knows that.

What your husband is trying to do is to get you to agree to refurbish the foyer or front hall with a lay-z-boy and flat screen LCD HDTV.

You see, when you go out, he would sit in the Lay-Z-Boy watching TV in the foyer/front hall. When he hears you pull in, the popping of the trunk and your grunts as you struggle to carry in all the groceries while fumbling for your keys to open the front door, he will prepare for door holding by placing his hand on the foot lift lever and pause his live TV show.

Once you get the door open, he'll activate said foot lift so that he kicks back and his raised legs on the footrest block the door, preventing it from closing.

How efficient! While you make the consecutive trips back to the minivan for the remaining groceries, he can pause and un-pause his live TV to continue watching whilst making the odd grumbling when you walk past, momentarily blocking his view of the screen.

Once he hears the trunk slam shut, he then can be ready to lower the footrest, releasing the door behind you so it can close.

From there he can continue watching until he is required to step away from the chair (most-likely for a bathroom break) and can relocate back to the living room without any disruption from TV watching.

A diabolical scheme if ever I've seen one. And you almost fell victim to it. Thank goodness you emailed us.

A Useless Man would have offered to hold the door, but then would not open it in time, leaving you waiting on the porch. Once the Useless Man realizes you're waiting, he would mumble an incoherent apology and then open the door, but not nearly wide enough, forcing you to squeeze through while ducking under his arm.

This would be far more useless, and your frustration would boil, because your husband is making things harder then if you had just took care of it yourself. But he IS helping, so how could you yell at him?

Only someone Useful could have come up with such a wicked scheme, just as I had so many moons ago. Only someone, like me, could ever have picked up on that Useful scheme early enough to warn you.

Uh oh...

... Ummm... How about I buy you a Flat screen LCD HDTV and Lay-Z-Boy, in return for you not telling my brother about this response, eh?

Sincerely,
One USELESS Brother


Send your questions to Useless Advice from Useless Men! Click here.

Subscribe to Useless email updates. Click here.

QUESTION # 633: BACK WOODS SCARY MEN

Dear Useless Men,

Is it true that all guys like power tools, hunting, and forgetting to shave? Would you all turn into back woods scary men without women?

Just curious.

Signed,
Glad you need us.

Dear Glad to be Needed,

First, allow me to clarify: We like tools... all tools. Not just the powered kind. Sure, some of us are really into the DeWalt 18v Cordless Drill or a decent Delta 12in. Radial Arm Saw. Others, however, may prefer a good old Veritas Scrub Plane or Stanley FatMax Checkered Face Framing Hammer. And then you have our geekier brothers, who really get off on an HP Pavilion Gaming Tower with a Core2Duo E6600 processor, 2 Gigabytes of RAM, Dual 160 Gigabyte SATA hard drives, Lightscribe DVD burner, and a 256 Megabyte GeForce 7600GT graphics card.

(Note to potential sponsors: We here at Useless Advice from Useless Men are obviously not above shameless product plugs, nor are we apt to refuse any incidental "gifts" that may result from said shameless product plugs...)

Really, we like anything that moves or makes a lot of noise (preferably both), and that we can control. Be that a power tool, a hand tool, or simply an impressionable young blonde. We like it.

As for hunting, the fact of the matter is, men enjoy killing. We enjoy killing deer in the woods, zombies on a computer screen, and nose hairs in an elevator. We even enjoy killing those spiders you ladies are always freaking out about, despite our protests. Hunting, however, implies a willingness and a desire to do something with the kill. That's not for us. Sounds too much like work. And, as all men know, once it becomes work, it's just not fun anymore.

It is for this very reason that we invented the concept of catch and release. It is also the reason why we'll still make you grab those squishy spider guts in 16 layers of Kleenex and run tip-toe style all the way to the bathroom where you will give our latest kill a nice swirly burial at sea.

I guess that only leaves your shaving question. Do we like forgetting to shave? Hmm...

Well, there have been many times when I've caught myself saying, "Dang! I totally forgot to shave!" A couple of court appearances and a friend's wedding come immediately to mind, but I can't recall ever saying, "I forgot to shave today... Sweet! I love it when that happens!" Of course, I've led a pretty sheltered life, so I'll admit there may be the odd circumstance when just such a statement is possible. Like when you're on a blind-date with an ugly girl, or Free Shave and a Haircut Day at Yankee Stadium. Just thinking out loud there.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to head up to the cabin, chop a cord of wood, and clean all my guns. After which, I'm going to shave because MAN is this thing getting ITCHY!

Sincerely,
Useless Intern


Send your questions to Useless Advice from Useless Men! Click here.

Subscribe to Useless email updates. Click here.

QUESTION # 632: LEST WE FORGET

Dear Useless Men,

Hi, Real happy and surprised to find a site for guys like me. I didn't really relize I was so useless. Ex got rid of me after 16years, even tryed to kill me. The law did nothing. Now, thats pretty useless in my eyes. I was a US Marine for 8 years. I thought I had some sort of purpose. WRONG!

Now my girlfriend of about 7 years, can not stand to be around me.

If I walk into a room, within 10 to 20 mins. Room is empty...except for me. I have just accepted, today, that no one can stand to be around me for any time at all. You know what? It hurts to.

With Respect

Dear With Respect,

While we strive to have fun at Useless Advice From Useless Men, there are a few things that we take very seriously. The obvious ones are electronics, sports and breaking wind. But a less obvious one is the freedom we have to be useless, the freedom to spout off in ridiculous fashion, mocking the accepted practices, and throwing wrenches in perfectly working cogs.

Today is November 12th. Yesterday was Remembrance Day.

Not all men are useless. We know that, and you know that. Only the half a dozen regular writers here are Useless Men, and that's just to give Useless Advice. Over the years, there have been many non-Useless Men (and women) that have taken up arms in an effort to defend and protect us. You, dear writer, are one of those men.

Your situation does sound rather useless. Useless police. Useless relationship. Useless, all around.

But there is one thing that I won’t take sitting down: that’s the sacrifice of those many hundreds, nay thousands, that have stepped up to do the things that I wouldn’t have the ‘nads to do. Those many soldiers past and present, that have represented the country that I live in through peace or while under threat of attack.

With Respect, you are one of those men. So it is, with heavy heart this day after Remembrance Day that I post your question, and my uselessly un-funny answer to say thank you to you and your fellow country-men, your fellow soldiers, commanders, Marines or otherwise, that sacrificed for me and our Useless readers. Regardless of our stance on war, we recognize the toll that is paid by those that choose to be all that they can be. (I know, that’s ARMY not Marines, but you get the idea!)

Today, instead of accepting that no one can stand to be around you, understand that you have stood in a place that many others would never stand. And you came back to tell about it.

What lies ahead? Who knows. We’re useless! But it hurts us to see a veteran, young OR old, be ignored.

You won’t find that here. The Useless Men salute you. Even if doing so, makes us look more like Benny Hill than soldiers.

Sincerely,
One Useless Man


Send your questions to Useless Advice from Useless Men! Click here.

Subscribe to Useless email updates. Click here.

QUESTION # 631: HEADS OR TAILS

Dear Useless Men,

I was watching a football game with my husband on Monday night. The game went into overtime, which I didn’t think could happen in football. But to my surprise, the two teams gathered at the center and they flipped a coin. Then the Green and Yellow team took the ball and threw a touchdown pass to win the game. In my mind, winning the coin toss decided the game.

Why play the game at all? Why don’t they just flip a coin and be done with it?

Heads or tails

Dear Heads or Tails,

I SAW that game! A friend and I were in my basement, a classic man cave place for game watching, with the chips and salsa and the pops spread about. The family had long since gone to bed. When all of a sudden, BOOM, what seemed like an 80 yard pass goes straight up in the air and is pulled in and run for the TD. We jumped up out of the couch, sending chip crumbs everywhere, chanting manly things like “WHOA!!” and “YEEEaaaaaHHH!” Monosyllabic words of praise are the best form of support to your professional televised sports teams.

Brett Favre may be aging, but he can still throw a bullet from the pocket. In the old days, before football, there were still coins. And coin flipping was the sport of the day. It was a touch more civilized than gladiators, but just as gruesome. In my research, I found one computer simulation of this phenomenon as part of the promotions for No Country For Old Men. Not sure what the movie is about. I hope it is the demise of country music. I do know that it involves the Coen brothers, to whom I am thankful. If it wasn’t for their movie Fargo, I wouldn’t have even questioned why my buddy Shady Norm was asking me to rent him a wood chipper under my credit card number. But I digress.

Try playing the Coin Toss game on the site. Upload your own picture, flip a coin and cross your fingers. You can see how well I fared. MY ride was over before I could wipe the smile off my face! But you could fare much better.

OR you could simple upload pictures of people you don’t like and flip a coin on their behalf. Are you sick of the whole Britney, Paris, Lindsay debacles? Perhaps you could flip a coin with their picture? In fact, I challenge you, our Useless reader, to send me the downloadable pictures from this game. I will share the most creative ones in this post!

Then I’ll collect them, and use them for a collage on the thank you card I need to send to the Coen’s.

Sincerely,
One Useless Man


Don't shoot the messenger! Send your questions to Useless Advice from Useless Men! Click here.

Subscribe to Useless email updates. Click here.

QUESTION # 630: LOITEROUS LINGERING

Dear Useless Men,

Can you please explain to me how or why a guy's fart lingers? Several of my relations of the ability to pass-the-gas, cut-the-cheese, two cheek sneak, lett'r rip or release an SPD in another room/outside/at work/on the bus, yet it follow's them like a sad puppy. Why oh why?

Perplexed by putrification

Dear Perplexed by putrification,

Indeed you are perplexed. It's SBD, not SPD; Silent But Deadly. But that's ok -- we are here to help. And while the Useless Men may in fact be considered truly useless when it comes to a myriad of subjects, ranging from art and relationships to foreign policy and mathematics, smells and/or the orifices that produce them are where we really shine!

To truly understand why the smell lingers so long you must not, as any laywoman might, consider this an accidental effect. To the practicing experts this is known as "crop-dusting" and is a carefully cultivated skill. Do not let the exploits of the masters--of whom Brandon-Ray Luper of Fort Winnebago, WI, is now a member after successfully cropdusting his way from the easternmost tip of Columbia county to its westernmost tip--fool you, for while it may occur as mere happenstance some of the time, it is actually very difficult to master. Some spend lifetimes in pursuit of the perfect cropdust; otherwise quit their jobs and drop out of school. A transcendental experience? Yes, say some.

"I remember when my daddy first taught me how to crop dust," recalls Jeremy Frisk Jr. of Cottonwood, AL. "He went from settin' at the dinner table clear on out to the shed never stoppin'--even stopped to tie his shoes. Boy I tell ya that was the finest cropdustin I ever did see. That's how our cat Shawnee died--course when ma' asked (ma' loved that old Tom) we tol' her it was them kay-yotes what done it. An' she believed it too, till one day she was out diggin' in her garden and done dug up the poor feller an' smelt him. Poor daddy caught a tongue lashin' that day on account o' he promised her he was done with crop dustin'."

As you can see, it's not just a fart, but a way of life. And while no discussion of crop-dusting (or CPD as it's casually referred to) masters would be complete without mentioning Janeen Melkin of Fort Springs IA, or her philosophically opposed Elizabeth Sharr of Waxahachie, TX, it is a way of life seldom understood by the fairer sex. Oftentimes women misinterpret the meaning behind their crop-dusting males as "I'm a disgusting slob whose body has been given over solely to the fabrication and subsequent corruption of noxious gases designed to maim or kill anyone with an olfactorily unsafe radius from me," when what they really mean is "Understand me."

Sincerely,
Just Plain Useless


Are bands named after berries better than bands named after fruit? Send your questions to Useless Advice from Useless Men! Click here.

Subscribe to Useless email updates. Click here.

QUESTION # 629: IS THAT A HAGGIS IN YOUR EAR?

Dear Useless Men,

Why do we get wax in our ears? What is it for?

Scientist in Training

Dear Scientist in Training,

Let me first commend you on entering into the challenging and demanding world of the scientists. You will be joining a social elite whose primary job function is to research and approve things for our general use, which will eventually be determined to be bad for us and become condemned by your same people years later. Yours is one of the most useless career paths indeed. And I commend you.

With regards to earwax, it is indeed a mysterious substance whose purpose remains a mystery until now. Earwax is simply an accumulation of brain content. When our brains reach capacity they find there is no place to put things. Since our society has embraced the concept of life long learning, we feel the need to continue to cram our over-stuffed brains full of more and more knowledge. Whether it is useful knowledge or not is academic, as the brain is simply a garage for our thoughts, ideas and memories. It cannot determine the difference between the cure for cancer and the entire script to Monty Python And The Holy Grail.

Once over-stuffed, the brain must vent off the excess pressure or face the very real possibility of exploding like an overstuffed haggis. To eliminate the excess pressure it simply begins to select whatever information it deems unnecessary and presses it out the most accessible hole. This typically is through the ears due to the construction of our skulls. The ideas are excreted, but once they have escaped the hermetically sealed catch bin of our mind, they congeal into three types of earwax: the wet and gooey kind, the hard and crunchy kind, and the white flaky kind. These represent thoughts (wet and gooey), ideas (hard and crunchy) and memories (white flaky).

Maybe when you are a world famous scientist you can develop a manner for reconstituting them so that we can make sure they don't get lost forever as I'm sure many a great and useful idea has been lost so that a guy can remember all the latest baseball stats. I've tried eating some to see if it worked out but it tastes terrible and the only memory it seemed to regenerate is that I tried this process before and it tasted just as horrible then too.

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


That's not a question! That's just a flesh wound! Send your questions about the Black Knight to Useless Advice from Useless Men! Click here.

Subscribe to Useless email updates. Click here.

QUESTION # 628: WHOSE FART IS IT ANYWAY?

Dear Useless Men,

Every time he farts my husband blames the dog. Lame as that is, he seems to have forgotten the dog died three months ago.

Signed,
Getting Gassed Nightly

Dear Getting Gassed Nightly,

If I were in any way medically inclined, which I can assure you I am not, I could tell you that gas continues to escape from decomposing bodies long after they’ve died and that the dead dog should probably be moved off the couch and buried somewhere.

I hope I’m wrong about the current and unhygienic state of the dog, and also that your husband hasn’t developed that disease that makes you forget everything, things like your poor poochy’s passing. What is the name of that disease?

Hilarious alliterations aside, it’s my understanding that when couples have been together for a while, excitement fades as complacency sets in. If someone could get away with squeaking one out after six months of marriage, who’s to say they couldn’t get away with something a little bigger or raunchier a year later?

What I’m saying is, marriage is a two-way street and I think both of you are equally responsible for the current situation. Perhaps he’s blaming his farts on the dog in retaliation for you blaming yours on the chair, that “squeaky” floor board, or Mittens the goldfish. Changing your behaviour could result in him changing his.

Start by accepting responsibility for your own gassy emanations and see if he changes his tune. Reverse psychology also works by congratulating and complimenting him on his anal explosions before he gets the chance to blame the dog. Try giving out a loud “Hoo-YAA! And a round of high-fives! I suspect he’ll feel his talent is appreciated, and things will change.

All men want is to be recognized for their efforts and accomplishments. Not a man alive wouldn’t be proud to be in the Guinness Book of World Records holding the title of ”World’s Biggest Earth-Shattering Fart”. It’s something a man can have carved onto their tombstone, to be eternally remembered for. It’s something they can brag about to friends, and to their new girlfriend if their wives eventually leave them. And they’ll always be remembered as the “ex” who ripped massive farts.

Being remembered. It’s a good thing.

Pull My Finger,
The Useless Wonder


Send your questions to Useless Advice from Useless Men! Click here.

Subscribe to Useless email updates. Click here.

QUESTION # 627: ONE CHICK - PAID IN FULL

Dear Useless Men,

I finally paid off my credit card today. All that stuff from last Christmas, birthdays and such is gone - paid in full. How can I celebrate before I load up the card for Christmas again this year?

PIF

Dear PIF,

Just last week we rounded the two-months till Christmas panic that spread like wild-fire, my suggestion is this:

Step one: Go to into your closet and decipher what you are most in desperate need of. Is it handbags? Is it hot little cocktail dresses for the Holiday season? Maybe shoes to match? Maybe all three!

Step two: Jump into your car and drive to your most prized big box store (one that you wouldn't dare step foot into for fear that your wallet might just start to smoke).

Step three: Find the most stunning little black dress, matching your newly found to-die-for shoes that also, coincidentally, (I think not), match that gorgeous little clutch purse that you saw when you walked in the door. March yourself and your ravishing finds to the counter, pay for them with your slightly smoldering credit card, and go home!

Step four: For the next 29 days you are to get dazzled and dressed in your new found items inside the house only (careful not to remove the tags or scuff up those shoes). Warning: Should your credit card start to smoke or sizzle during the 29-day period, be sure to put it on ice.

Step five: On precisely the 30th day, you will get dressed up in your most elegant business ensemble (to show all those part-time sales people that you BELONG), drive over to said prized big box store and return your new and beautiful items.

Step six: Drive over to the "realistic" mall and start your Christmas debt for next year. Don't forget your mother-in-law...

Sincerely,
One Useless Chick


Afraid of debt? All our answers are FREE! Send your questions to Useless Advice from Useless Men today! Click here.

Subscribe to Useless email updates. Click here.

QUESTION # 626: BRINGING OUR SEXY BACK

Dear Useless Men,

What ever happened to the Occasional Useless Gal? Is she now Useful full-time?

A Useless Reader

Dear Useless Reader,

If you have been paying close attention, you may have noticed that the Occasional Useless Gal has been missing. In a pinch, An Oddly Useful Grrl stepped in. Now, I introduce to you, our leading lady, the one to bring our sexy back (I don't know what that means....). I introduce to you, One Useless Chick. Watch for her first answer to Question # 627.

For more background on her, or any of our Useless Men and Gals, check out our profile page linked on the sidebar!

Sincerely,
One Useless Man


That's RIGHT! She's our new Useless Gal! If we can't answer it, she's sure to dig us out of a hole. Send your questions to Useless Advice from Useless Men today! Click here.

Subscribe to Useless email updates. Click here.

QUESTION # 625: OF DIRTY GLASSES AND MEN

Dear Useless Men,

What is it with men and dirty glasses? My boyfriend always has a foggy haze on his spectacles and it drives me crazy. What can I do about this other than whip them off his face, lick them clean, and wipe them on the corner of his shirt?

Sincerely,
Hoping I'm not that ugly. . .

Dear Hoping,

When I was a kid, I TOTALLY wanted a pair of those dirty glasses! Okay, so maybe I was too young to get the point of seeing through a woman's dress, but how cool would it have been to see the bones of my hand? REALLY cool, that's how cool!

Of course, there were a lot of neat-o things on the back of comic books that I wanted so badly. Like a joy-buzzer. Because, naturally, as a kid, I shook a lot of hands and NO ONE would see it coming.

Or that exploding gum! A 10-year-old boy handing out gum in an unrecognizable package for free isn't suspicious in the least.

Oh! And I REALLY wanted one of those books that would teach me how to kick sand in the faces of scrawny guys at the beach!

Sadly, I didn't have a paper route to fund such purchases. My meager allowance went straight into Pac-Man and Donkey Kong the day I got it, and, being Canadian, I would have probably had to pay 4 times the actual value of those comic book treasures just to get them across the border.

But enough about me...

Before jumping to any conclusions about your boyfriend, I strongly suggest you watch him closely when he's wearing his dirty glasses. Does he stare at you a lot and drool? Does he walk around with his hand in front of his face? If so, I'd say you just let him have his fun. Now, if you catch him attending a lot of field hockey games with the glasses on, or if he takes a sudden interest in woman's restroom doors, I'd get those bad boys off his face as soon as possible.

But try to avoid licking them. That could set a precedent that won't be easy to live up to…

Sincerely,
Useless Intern


Contest has closed! Feel free to send your questions to Useless Advice from Useless Men without the burden of prize winning expectations! Click here.

Subscribe to Useless email updates. Click here.