A monthly advice column
This month: guest columnist Maria Bamford
My little sister is engaged to a total slimeball. I haven’t told her how I feel, because she already thinks I want to sleep with him (long story). How can I sabotage their relationship without making my sister hate me forever?
Dear RB in GC,
Slimeballs are a great addition to any family! Does he work long hours, carefully weighing out precise one-ounce packets of crank? Does he wait outside bars in his Mercedes SUV with a baseball bat for his family’s collection agency? Whatever his characteristics, he’s clearly fun. Enjoy! He’s bringing a long-overdue, dramatic, triangular element to you and your sister’s boring, resentful back-and-forth. Who cares whom she “loves”? You do. Awesome. Go for it. Fight, manipulate, flirt with him and your sister! Let me know what happens!
I know that your age is just a number, but recently I feel like I’m becoming old. Not for the obvious reasons—going to sleep before 9 p.m., enjoying brunch specials, hating modern music—but because I’m pretty sure I’m shrinking. I saw it happen to my grandparents and parents, and now it’s happening to me. Is there any way to reverse this process, or should I just check myself into a retirement community?
Get a wheelchair, a baked-potato-size dog, some sweatpants combos, and start really living! Gone are the isolation and self-consciousness of the middle ages. Fart, tell intimate stories to strangers, fly a Confederate flag on one side of your walker and a gay-pride balloon on the other. Let go the constraints of youth. Embrace weakness, confusion, and simple woodworking projects. Our deepest fear is often our greatest wish. I congratulate you on your upcoming retirement.
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