Dear Sedaratives,
My husband has really let himself go. But now our son looks exactly like my husband looked when we got married. What should I do about all these confusing feelings about my son/husband clone?
Love,
Ophelia
Dear Ophelia,
In the words of your bro Hamlet, “Get thee to a nunnery, why wouldst thou be a breeder of sinners!” I’m not sure how exactly this relates to your question, but I was an English major, and there just aren’t a lot of life situations that let me dip into my wide-ranging stock of Shakespeare quotes. As for your son, I’m sure he’s a handsome devil, and I would simply advise: be discreet. Otherwise, to quote the bard, “As flies to wanton boys, are we to the gods, they kill us for their sport.” Again, not particularly relevant. But—did I mention? I was an English major.
Jerry
Dear Sedaratives:
Trivial Pursuit has a “greatest hits” addition? Isn’t that just lazy, reusing old trivia?
Sam Billingsworth
Philadelphia, PA
Dear Sam:
Board games? Really, Sam? What happened – burglars break in and steal Parcheesi from the rest home rec room? Sorry, Philly-dog, I’m the wrong man for this question. I associate board games with nights when Grandma baby-sat and I had to breathe in her weird mustard smell, and Christmases when Dad was so broke he got us gifts from the bargain bin at St. Vincent De Paul. (Where every puzzle was missing a piece.) Sorry to let my personal history affect my response, but we can’t escape our past can we, Sam? You don’t like it, there’s this new thing called a computer. Buy one and Google Trivial Pursuit Greatest Hits. I’m sure somebody’s blogged about this. There are a lot of people who never have sex. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.
Jerry
Dear Sedaratives:
Is the shape of the peanut the most efficient and cushiony shape for shipping packages? Wouldn’t spheres or tiny triangles be better?
Ron Sutton
Pinkney, MI
Dear Ron:
The origin of the packing peanut might surprise you. The “peanut” mold was originally developed by Brigham Nance, a cosmetic surgeon from Bountiful, Utah who lost his testicles in a freak dog-bite incident. Dr. Nance believed that Styrofoam peanuts would be a prefect replacement. Sadly, the peanuts — while easy to work with — proved an irritant when placed “dans le scrotay,” as the French say. Abandoning his dream of ‘peanuticles,’ Dr. Nance stashed his molds in his garage. There they remained, for decades, until the doctor’s grandson, a plucky, overweight ten-year-old with Asperger’s Syndrome and an unexplained passion for “packing play,” found the molds and went to...
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