Dear Andy: What's another word for "gyneolatry"? I looked it up in the thesaurus and couldn't find something that really captures the essence of it.

Tongue-tied in San Diego Dear Tongue-tied: "Ins.n.a.t.c.huation."

Andy

Michael Cera Dear Michael: Do you think turtles tell jokes? It seems like they could be really funny.

Rilo Akron, OH Dear Rilo: I think that turtles definitely do not tell jokes. They could still be funny, I think, but it would be purely based on their appearance and the way that they move really slowly. But if we scrutinize further, we find that the humor ends there, and the sadness of the turtle's existence washes away all the jokes, culminating as the ultimate truth of the animal.

Michael ...

Dear Michael: I am beginning to think the word "cobbler" can mean anything you want it to. Person who mends shoes, deep-dish fruit dessert, rejected fabric, or mummichog. Are we moving toward a new world where the only word is "cobbler" and our only clues are inflection? How can I prepare?

Anonymous Sedona, AR Dear Anonymous: It's an interesting point to bring up. Being a purist, I've always referred to my mummichog as "mummichog," and "mummichog" alone. I also tend to refer to people who mend shoes as "feet-housers," and rejected fabric as "self." I think we should be civilized and leave "cobbler" to the deep-dish fruit dessert, as it's such a delicious, deep, fruity word to say and hear and cobble.

Michael ...

Dear Michael: In middle school my science teacher told me talking to plants helps them grow. What do you think?

Sincerely, I'd Rather Not Say Dear I'd Rather Not Say: I think there's a very good chance that your middle school science teacher was a bonehead and was trying to impress you by dangling a whole bunch of worthless knowledge in your face.

Michael ...

Dear Michael: Why is it that educated people are such a.s.sholes? I mean, they just looove to flaunt their trivial knowledge. It's like they want to impress everybody or something.

Jason P.

Warren, MI Dear Jason: Did you know talking to plants helps them grow?

Michael ...

Dear Michael: I think my landlady/downstairs neighbor may be selling crack out of her apartment. She also yells very loudly at her boyfriend around midnight every night, like clockwork, and makes the house shake with her incoherent, catlike rants. Also, her phone rings a lot. What do I do?

J.J.

Boulder, CO Dear J.J.: This one is simple. Befriend the boyfriend. B-friend the B-friend. Be a friend. Wait outside the place. When he leaves one day, be casually walking by. Say, "Hey, you live below me, right?" (He says yes) and you say, "Coffee?" (He says yes) and you go to a cafe and say, "What's your name anyhow?" (He tells you) and you say, "So, _______, how's life treating you?" (He says fine) and you say, "Fine is fine with me. Heck, fine is almost as good as good." (He laughs and smiles) and you say, "I really like making you laugh; we should hang out again soon." (He says for sure) and you say, "Can I come by and maybe borrow some crack, you think?" (He says sure, you can take some, me and my girlfriend sell crack out of our apartment but we only have a little bit left but you can totally take it) and you say, "That'd be really great; I'd really appreciate that." (He says what's mine is yours) and now you have a new friend and an unbelievably convenient crack hookup, and next time you see him it wouldn't be weird or out of the blue for you to say, "Hey, I heard you guys arguing last night at midnight. Trouble in paradise?" and get the scoop on the yelling situation.

Michael ...

Dear Michael: I'm not sure what to do this weekend. Got any ideas?

Bored in San Antonio, TX Dear Bored: Here's what I think you should do: Go to the garden center and purchase some tree seeds (anything from an arroyo sweetwood to a western soapberry will do), and plant the seeds in your front yard. Wait patiently for the seeds to blossom into a beautiful baby tree (approximately two to three hours), and then talk to it. This will help the tree grow, as well as make it less lonely/bored.

Michael ...

Dear Michael: How is it that every time I go to the grocery store, I forget to get the milk?

Isadora Modesto, CA Dear Isadora: You've just got way too much on your mind. You need to clear your head, girl. Spend a weekend in San Antonio; there's a ton of fun stuff to do there.

Michael

Vernon Chatman and John Lee Dear Vernon and/or John: Does electrolysis really work? I'm not so sure.

Angie Kritenbrink Federal Way, WA Dear Angie: First off, what is Federal Way? That sounds like some sort of lie. There is no "way" for our federation. Like the Death Star or Rome, we are hurtling toward an abysmal destination that only the worthless history books and withered poets can encapsulate, word-wise. As for your question about electrolysis, try covering your hirsut.i.tude with a hat, preferably worn faux-haphazardly askew, as is the style these days.

Vernon and John ...

Dear Vernon and/or John: My nine-month-old pug named Fang has recently taken a liking to eating his own p.o.o.p. When I get the chance to actually spend an entire day with him, I feel like he teaches me a thing or two. My question is, should I try eating his p.o.o.p?

Chris Funk guitarist for the Decemberists Portland, OR Dear Chris: Well, yours is an arrestingly unique conundrum, Mr. Funk. And, in fact, you very well may be joking, as is your human right. But we still intend to answer this question for the benefit of those for whom the nightmare of Spastic Fecal Ingestion is very real. SFI has only recently been acknowledged by the U.S. Medicalry Inst.i.tute, an organization that itself has yet to be recognized by anyone anywhere. It just so happens that our great-aunt Lillia "suffered" your plight, but she was a fighter to the last who could beat anything, and she "pa.s.sed" her homeliest of home remedies on to us. Use it wisely: take a quarter-pinch of raw talc.u.m powder and hold it between your two ring toes; douse your back hair in a blend of rainwater, cran-apple c.o.c.ktail, and Dramamine; pop the ticks on your left arm with a wooden matchstick, and, as they burst, kiss a jar of our grandmarm's famous hand-marmed marmalade between each of the crisp crackles, take a deep breath, hold it, and then immediately eat as much of the dog's rectal output as you can stomach. You should awake the next morning to find your hair has more bounce, more l.u.s.ter, and more sheen than you could have possibly foreseen!

Vernon and John ...

Dear Vernon and/or John: Since arriving in New York about a year ago, I haven't been motivated to cook. I haven't had s.e.x, either, and I'm beginning to think the two are somehow related. My friends have suggested the "pity lay," but I feel that's cheating-sort of the equivalent of a microwave dinner. Any suggestions for turning these two worrying trends around?

Lauren Marks New York, NY Dear Lauren: Manners! Never, ever, ever ever turn down a "pity lay." It is also considered bad form to reject the offering of a courtesy cuddle, a grievance grope, sorrow s.e.x, a hunger hump, a shame s.h.a.g, an ennui shower, a gloat scroting, a phantom-limb handjob, an anosognosian booty call (with one's own booty, no doubt), a gymnophobes dry hump, a rusty-trombone marrow transplant, a free falafel (shoved up your a.s.s), or a sincere, sensual session of meaningful lovemaking. turn down a "pity lay." It is also considered bad form to reject the offering of a courtesy cuddle, a grievance grope, sorrow s.e.x, a hunger hump, a shame s.h.a.g, an ennui shower, a gloat scroting, a phantom-limb handjob, an anosognosian booty call (with one's own booty, no doubt), a gymnophobes dry hump, a rusty-trombone marrow transplant, a free falafel (shoved up your a.s.s), or a sincere, sensual session of meaningful lovemaking.

As for your question, what you feel is natural. Food and s.e.x fit together like a p.e.n.i.s made of olives fits into a snug v.a.g.i.n.a knit from hen cutlets. Our advice is, be careful out there. Don't want those olives to spoil. Always keep them in chilled brine before serving (penetration).

Vernon and John ...

Dear Vernon and/or John: Why is it that every time my family sits down for a Sunday dinner I simultaneously feel the urge to ma.s.sacre each one of them with my bare hands, ripping every fiber of their being into obliteration and leaving no shred of evidence except for their as-yet-untouched plates of barbecued chicken and mashed potatoes, which I will surely eat once I wash my hands of the evidence, and want to hug them until they bleed? once I wash my hands of the evidence, and want to hug them until they bleed?

Ben Siegel Williamsville, NY Dear Ben: You'll be happy to know that this is not your fault. The only thing to blame here is that dastardly rascal known as "your emotions." This horrible fiend has revealed the thin double-edged sword between love and hate. Again, not your fault. And fear not; we have a solution to your woes. But to ensure that our advice isn't bogged down in cra.s.s feelings, we have printed it in binary code: 101101001 10101 1010110110, 111 0010 101 0111. 1010 10101 10 01010101 1010 Coca-Cola 1010111 10101 1011 01 0101010 10101 ... 0101 01.

Vernon and John ...

Dear Vernon and/or John: I am a forty-eight-year-old who has been enjoying the occasional use of cannabis since p.u.b.erty. Because this is an illegal substance controlled by a mafia of seventeen-year-olds, I find that it has become difficult (if not impossible) for a middle-aged suburbanite to hook up with "the man." Should I just grow up and go cold turkey, or go back to high school and hope to hang with a cool crowd? Please advise.

Theodore W. Oestendiek A rural part of Arizona Dear Theodore: It is well-known that Rodney Dangerfield went back to school for the same reasons you are thinking, and now he's dead. Or, let's put it this way: It's like my beloved Aunt Clorvis always used to say. "Let me make this very clear. We are not related. Kindly remove your withered bodyclaw from my ladybags." In other words, follow your heart. But whatever you do, do it au gratin. And just in case you still missed it, let me dumb it down for you a notch: make like a fig and f.u.c.k off, stoner.

Vernon and John

Rob Corddry Dear Rob: I'm seriously considering buying a houseboat. I already know about all the bad reasons to do this-my friends and family have been very helpful in that department-but n.o.body has bothered to tell me why this would be insanely cool and bad-a.s.s. What do you think?

Chad Lewis Waukesha, WI Dear Chad: Just curious: What are the bad bad reasons to buy a houseboat? A deep, penetrating sleep cycle? Iconoclastic neighbors? Too much p.u.s.s.y? Unless you hate Halloween, I can't think of one single reason not to buy a sleek, modern houseboat. By the way, I'm cc'ing my houseboat salesman on this. reasons to buy a houseboat? A deep, penetrating sleep cycle? Iconoclastic neighbors? Too much p.u.s.s.y? Unless you hate Halloween, I can't think of one single reason not to buy a sleek, modern houseboat. By the way, I'm cc'ing my houseboat salesman on this.

Rob ...

Dear Rob: Will learning to juggle increase my chances with the ladies?

Ralph Toledo, OH Dear Ralph: That you even have to ask is evidence that you are hopeless with "the ladies." I doubt it's your lack of carnival skills hurting you the most, my uncoordinated friend. Only we jugglers know the real secret to soaking a woman's panties: three b.a.l.l.s and the truth.

Rob ...

Dear Rob: The other day somebody asked me what my spirit animal is, and I honestly had no idea what to tell him. Where would I find this information? And do I get a say in the matter?

Brendan S. G.

Albuquerque, NM Dear Brendan: I will answer your question in the form of a story, not unlike the way Jesus would.

When I was a young man, I was an avid hiker. I would spend hours walking trails, communing with nature. It was there that I developed a profound communion with the residents of the forest. It was there that I felt I could communicate with them on some basic level. It was also there that I ate a poisonous mushroom and tripped my nuts off for days until the forest ranger found me living in a burned-out car surrounded by waterlogged Playboy Playboy magazines. magazines.

Long parable short, my spirit animal is Miss February 1986's v.a.g.i.n.a.

Rob ...

Dear Rob: I am fairly reluctant to "dive in" when it comes to kitchen appliances, but maybe it's because nothing interesting enough has been produced yet. If you could crossbreed two kitchen appliances into one MEGA appliance, what would they be and what would you call it?

Just curious.

Mel in Chicago, IL Dear Mel: As a rich and famous person, all of my appliances are MEGA. It's a secret little perk, like being able to murder one person a year. My fridge doubles as an oven, so you can imagine the convenience there. My helper robot has most kitchen utensils readily available to me, and my coffeemaker doubles as a toilet. Oh, and I have slaves.

Rob ...

Dear Rob: My roommate is a slob and he never pays his share of the rent or bills. But he's got an old record player and an amazing collection of vinyl, including a mint-condition copy of London Calling. London Calling. My My question is, if I murder him will the records be taken away as evidence? question is, if I murder him will the records be taken away as evidence?

Emma Lynsky Fort Wayne, IN Dear Emma: I'm not sure I understand your logic. Do you usually make a habit of watching only half of CSI? CSI? I think the records would be admissible only if you killed him with them, which would be a fuller, warmer, crackly kind of murder. But also kind of elitist. I think the records would be admissible only if you killed him with them, which would be a fuller, warmer, crackly kind of murder. But also kind of elitist.

Rob ...

Dear Rob: There's this shop around here that sells foofy stuff. Bells and whistles. Seash.e.l.ls, feathers, fancy cups. Absinthe. Gem-studded coasters. Dessert napkins. Lots of French imports. Should I feel guilty about buying things from there? Is it obvious that I only like this stuff because I'm being ironic? If not, how do I make my guests aware that I'm not the kind of guy who shops at foofy stores?

J. M. Barrie San Francisco, CA Dear J. M.: The answer to your real question is yes, I do not like you.

Rob ...

Dear Rob: They say bank heists are up this year. Do you recommend a life of crime or what?

My best, Parched in Houston Dear Parched: Bank crimes are up this year, but the word "heist" is down. Keep beatin' your gums like a palooka and you'll be all fours and fives! Keep on the sinker and you'll be on the trolley like a hayburner!

I had to look all that stuff up but I got bored. "Sinker" means "doughnut." Yes, crime pays.

Rob ...

Dear Rob: What's the second-best way to ask your boss for a raise?

Lucy Tallaha.s.see, FL Dear Lucy: a.s.suming that the best way to ask your boss for a raise is to build a time machine, go back in time, fix all of your stupid mistakes, and start making good, responsible choices while being nice and respectful to your fellow workers? The second would be to just ask him.

Rob

Larry Doyle Dear Larry: I have trouble making a good impression on new people. I cannot engage in an intelligent conversation for more than five minutes before I am suddenly, unnaturally aware that I am communicating and am doing it badly. How can I be more likable?

Sue Stroudsburg, PA Dear Sue: Why do you want to be liked, Sue? You know who was liked? Adolf Hitler. One of Jessica Mitford's sisters even called him "sweet." And yet.

But if you still want to be liked, Sue, I would recommend that when meeting a new person, you try to maintain eye contact. And never, ever say anything stupid. Good luck!

Larry ...

Dear Larry: This year I will be turning twenty-seven, which as we all know is the ripest age for suicide. Several of my friends have gone before me-to the age of twenty-seven, not suicide-and my time is fast approaching. I can't help but feel despair. Do you have any advice on how to cope with the post-twenty-seven, suicide-free, life-after-death lifestyle?

Wendi Cleveland, OH Dear Wendi, There's no way to make it past twenty-seven without committing suicide and not feel somewhat a failure. After that magical age, one risks ending a life no longer worth living, undermining the romance of it all. Hemingway blew his brains out at sixty-one, depriving the world of what? A thousand-page, slightly more p.o.r.nographic Garden of Eden? Garden of Eden?

Wendi, you are right to stick with your plan. Your post-suicidal friends will try to talk you out of it, but in the end they will admire your gumption, so tragically self-snuffed.

Larry ...

Dear Larry: My white-a.s.s friend and my own white a.s.s were walking by the lake the other day, and after I told her a joke she screamed, "You a jive-a.s.s turkey!" Loudly. A black guy whom I hadn't noticed jogging in front of us turned around abruptly with a really weird look on his face. Should I try to make my friend feel bad about that or was this man just being oversensitive? on his face. Should I try to make my friend feel bad about that or was this man just being oversensitive?

White and Uptight Minneapolis, MN Dear White and Uptight: I'm afraid you lost me at "my white-a.s.s friend." This kind of indecorous anatomical reference I would expect from an Urban Person, not a Minnesotan.

Larry ...

Dear Larry: I'm one of those naive young people who still dream of writing the Great American Novel. Am I wasting my time? Is the novel dead, as so many of my peers have told me, or is there still hope that I might become an acclaimed and award-winning author?

D. R. Sullivan Cambridge, MA Dear D. R.: Your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds.

Yes, D. R., the Great American Novel lives. It exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Not believe in the Great American Novel! You might as well not believe in short stories or writers' retreats!

Larry ...

Dear Larry: I had insomnia a few nights ago and I ended up watching the "Sixth Finger" episode of The Outer Limits. The Outer Limits. It occurred to me that this episode is a perfect metaphor for anti-intellectualism. Is this how people in the red states look at the rest of us, as translucent aliens with huge brains? It occurred to me that this episode is a perfect metaphor for anti-intellectualism. Is this how people in the red states look at the rest of us, as translucent aliens with huge brains?

Bryan H.

Scottsdale, AZ Dear Bryan: I am not allowed in red states, so I cannot answer your question knowledgeably, but I'm happy to speculate on what other people think. I doubt that they view you as a more highly "evolved" species, though I'm sure that watching something in black-and-white, even on TV, makes you suspect. Meanwhile, watching television, even ironically, makes you unfit to walk among your own. You are a man without a half-a-country.

Larry ...

Dear Larry: I have a mole on my cheek with irregular edges that my husband thinks might be melanoma. But I'm afraid of going to a dermatologist and letting him hack it off, because my mole is one of the most interesting things about my face. Isn't being unique worth a little skin cancer?

Cheri Colvin Rochester, NY Dear Cheri: Of course. However, you may want to consider how interesting your face will look with a big hole in it.

Larry ...

Dear Larry: All of us up here in Canada are a little nervous about what you guys in the United States are up to. You're not planning to invade us anytime soon, are you? Just give us a heads-up; that's all we're asking.

Cheers, Brigette K.

Winnipeg, MB, Canada Dear Brigette: No, not at all. Please continue disarming your populace and emasculating your men with draconian p.o.r.nography laws.