Tuesday, August 26, 2008
There’s a really hot girl in my sociology class. What’s the best way for a shy guy like me to approach her?

The key here is to approach her respectfully. As you slowly creep past her, blaring your car’s horn and showering her with unwanted profanity-laced comments about her body, you’ve got to show her that you’re in it for the long haul, not seeking some superficial one-night stand. Persistence is also vital. There is, after all, a slight chance that she won’t immediately leap into your car and breathlessly insist that you give her the “caboose-rattling of her life.” This is why you must show that you care enough to withstand the several awkward moments of her pretending to talk on her cell phone as well as her tearful threats to call the police during your lengthy barrage of ill-considered come-ons. It may take months of uncomfortable lurking, restraining orders, and, of course, horn honking to wear her down, but if she’s a real lady, she’ll be flattered by the attention.

My girlfriend is coping with the death and it’s been kind of difficult. How should I comfort her?

Sincere, heartfelt condolences are difficult to express with only an incessantly honking horn and loudly shouted tawdry innuendos. You may need to actually bare your soul to her by letting her know that, through all the trying times, you’ll be there for her—embarrassing her in front of her friends and coworkers with deafening screams that convey your undying love (of her ass) and urgent honks of your horn that make startled passersby briefly wonder if there’s been an accident of some kind.

My wife and I have been having arguments about what kind of religious environment we want to raise our son in. She was raised a devout Catholic and I came from a family of agnostics. How can we work these differences out without causing a serious rift in the family?

When marital discord of this sort arises there really is no substitute for honest, open communication through the unending blare of your car’s horn, accompanied by loudly demanded sexual favors and occasional references to the size, shape, and thickness of her thighs. Differences in the realm of spiritual matters tend to simply disappear when you clearly convey your need for her to get into your car and, in the words of Christian reformer Desiderius Erasmus, “Squeeze your lemon until it decorates her face with love juice.”

My wife and I will celebrate our fiftieth anniversary together this month. I’m not always the best when it comes to anniversary presents. Any advice on how to make this one really special?

Call me an old-fashioned romantic, but, for me, nothing expresses the sheer joy of a half-century of marital bliss like dragging her sleeping body to the garage in the middle of the night and, on the magical morning of your anniversary, waking her to the sound of exactly one hundred honks of your horn—fifty for your wonderfully warm fifty years together and another fifty to show that you’ll be there to assault the delicate fibers of her inner ear for another fifty years should you be so blessed. And don’t forget to add that if she ever needs a place to sit, your face is always available. But then, after fifty years of harmonious matrimony, you don’t need me to tell you how important those little touches can be.

Copper Smith is a small, shiny robot who lives in Minneapolis, where he uses the word “enervate” too much and writes the blog Ninja Salad Sandwich.

Get Quit! Hello? I know you're there; I can here you breathing (or should I say wheezing?).
But, Mooooom, I Was Photoshopped. Because I love you, I am extraordinarily concerned about certain enhanced photos you saw while dabbling in the popular networking site, Facebook.
Let's Make a Baby We should have sex and make a baby. After conducting multiple experiments, I am relatively convinced I have a lot of semen in my body.

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