Tag: Satire

AM I A BAD PERSON OR JUST NOT GOOD?

On By Ron KozloffIn SatireLeave a comment

RON’S WISDOM SALON: 

A fictional advice column

Dear Ron,

I am starting to wonder about myself. I feel terrible when I hear anything good that people say about my friends. Am I a bad person or simply not good?

Not Good

Dear Not Good,

I would say you are neither bad nor not good. People need to feel terrible when other people tell them how great their friends are. The fact is you probably know your friends better than the jerks who are telling you how great they are and you know that they are not so great when push comes to shove. In fact, when push does come to shove they, these (double up-finger pinch) good friends, would likely push you off a cliff in flea sweep rather than inconvenience themselves.  Opinions! Opinions! Everyone has them. Everyone’s an expert.  I say haha to that. You know the truth, so stick to your guns. Feel terrible.

I hope this helped.

TELEPATHY IS FOR SHOPPERS

On By Ron KozloffIn SatireLeave a comment

Capture d’écran, le 2022-03-06 à 13.44.52

Dear Ron,
Do you think mental telepathy is for real? Like, for example, you are thinking about somebody and  at that moment they call you. I have had that experience and sometimes wonder if it was just coincidence or if our thoughts are connected.
Wonderer

Dear Wonderer,
This is a question for Dr. Aldous Dimly, the noted thinker and parapsychology maven. I contacted Dr. Dimly at his home in Key West, where he was researching the chicken and the egg question on his private beach, and Dr. Dimly was kind enough to speak on this subject while lotioning himself.
Dr. Dimly suggested to me that thought is indeed in the public domain. A person might think that he is only thinking, but the hard facts are that he is sending telegrams all the time. These may include words, pictures, and even recipes.
All of it is just out there and it is just like browsing at the mall, he says, looking at all the things to buy, and then bingo, a person goes into a store and buys, just out of the blue, buys something. Well, where did the decision to buy that particular object and not another come from? It is Dr. Dimly’s contention that there was nonverbal communication that took place, some thought force out there in the atmosphere which made a case for said object and not any other. Dr Dimly calls this the  X Force. He calls it that because x is Dr. Dimly’s favourite letter.
Now who actually sent that message and why? Well, those are questions that Dr. Dimly intends to spend a lot more time on the beach investigating, but he intimated to me when I pressed him on it that messages comes from the most unlikelyl sources, let us say, just another face in the crowd who at that moment was sending the message, “pressure cooker,” which reached the consumer and caused him to go right into a hardware store and pick up that pressure cooker. Dr. Dimly says price rarely has much to do with consumer spending because price tags are generally too small.
What can we take from this, Wonderer?  I, for one, came away from my telephone call with Dr. Dimly fairly convinced that there may be something to this business of mental telepathy and the sending of thought. I can also say that I came away from our conversation with an intense ear ache as a result of Dr. Dimly’s ferocious vocal chords. I hope we have added to the debate, Wonderer.

VIAGRA SOUNDS BUTCH TO ME

On By Ron KozloffIn SatireLeave a comment

RON’S WISDOM SALON: 

A fictional advice column

Dear Ron,
What do you think about Viagra and Cialis? I don’t mean the effects, I am talking about the names. “Viagra” sounds butch to me, while “Cialis” has a wimpy, shrivelling, effeminate ring to it. Don’t you think the admen for this pill could have come up with a better signature?
Bumsy

Dear Bumsy,

I think you are correct. When I hear” Viagra” the word vigor comes  to mind. I feel I could just tear the shirt from my thickly curled chest hair, tighten my colostomy bag, and lay with the nearest  pretty milk maid . On the other hand,  when “Cialis” is pronounced I hear water dribbling down the drain in my head.  One is steak the other pudding, if you will.
These ad people! I can just imagine them huddled in some dank basement spewing out names only to settle on this loser. Then you and I have to sit through endless TV commercials that make us want to let go of supper.
I feel sorry for those men that need to buy Viagra and Cialis in order to bolster their equipment and I feel fortunate not to be among them, mainly because I no longer have sex.  I would much rather spend my time these days gobbling up a plate of spaghetti and meatballs with a side shaker of cheese. The sex act is much overrated in my opinion.
I mean why would any man want to spend time inserting his where –he- goes- to- the- bathroom into a woman’s where-she—goes to the bathroom?  It would do him much more good to aim it at the pee pot.  At least that would amount to a bit of relief before shaking off the socks and calling it a night. I hope this answered your question and I wish you few holes on your own bed of nails.

THE MORE I EAT THE HUNGRIER I GET

On By Ron KozloffIn SatireLeave a comment

RON’S WISDOM SALON: 

A fictional advice column

Dear Ron,

Are there foods that make you hungrier after you eat them? And If there are, shouldn’t there be warning on the label? There is a pastry (I won’t say which because I don’t want a lawsuit) that I have been eating which  makes me so hungry that right after I finish one I immediately want another one.

This is not right. I eat to get full, and so if this food makes me even hungrier than I was, it stands to reason that I shouldn’t eat it. But- And this is a massive but- I love this food! It is a food which I would choose as a last meal if I were languishing on Death  Row.  When I finish a box of this edible, and I am starving, I feel cheated and I tell myself I will never buy it again. But I do!  Help me, please.

Hungry Hal

Dear Hungry,

You will have to choose. Either eat and be hungry or eat and be full. It does come down to that. Pleasure is what is driving you. This food gives you pleasure but it also causes you pain. Is it worth it? From your tone, I don’t think it is.

Weigh the alternatives. Be a man (if you are a man) and stand up to this pastry! A wise woman  I once met at the  zoo told me that what causes pain hurts more if we have just had pleasure. We suffer by its contrast. It is so simple and so true.

It is like going out with a girl who has real snappy answers and you enjoy her for that, but at the end of the night you realize that she was making a fool of you to everyone at the restaurant. Okay she had a silver tongue, but do you want everyone in the restaurant to laugh at you as if you were the biggest idiot in town?

Well, this pasty is doing that to you. It considers you a jerk and it is right. I am certain that it is telling all the other pastries in the box, “Look at this guy. He is going to eat us and HE WON’T EVEN GET FULL!” And they are LOLing at you.

Eat something that is more boring but ultimately more nourishing as well. A hunk of cheese or a salami pole that sticks to your insides and gives you a firm output the next day. Brush off the pastries. Demanding labels on the boxes? Unfortunately these never work like they are supposed to. If people read labels, there would be lots more fasting in the world.

This should help. I hope!

I’M A SWEATER, RON

On By Ron KozloffIn SatireLeave a comment

RON’S WISDOM SALON: 

A fictional advice column

Dear Ron,

I notice that you have letters lately that have to do with humidity and I just wanted to add my own. It is something I could never tell anyone, but now I am going to tell it to you: I am a sweater. You read it correct. I sweat, Ron. I am a woman who oozes and I cannot help it. My problem is not only do I sweat – I sweat profusely., and when I do, I stick to things.

For example, I will be passing a table and by accident I touch it with my arm and my arm sticks to the table. It is not fun to have to pull yourself off furniture all the time while everyone around you is enjoying a good glass of lemonade and a couple of rice batons, and they have to put it down and help you to come unglued. It is not a way to keep friends.

And besides, I am a proud person. I don’t like to ask for help. I am made that way. I would like to be able to sweat less. Is there anything I can do about it?

Liquid Nightmare

Dear Liquid,

The first thing I would tell anyone in your position is: Don’t sweat it. The truth is we all sweat, it is a normal, natural, unattractive function of the human body when one is hot or under some kind of stress. It is nothing to be ashamed of.

The fact that you become attached to furniture is obviously a problem. On warm says, I would suggest that you wear lots of clothing to cover you up, say a housecoat or a djaalabba. This will prevent contact with your moist surfaces. Carry a hanky or a sock around with you in case your brow bubbles up. Don’t hold anything in your palm too long as this is a part of the anatomy that likes to get wet first, and stay away from toilet seats.

If you are ever in an emergency and have no one around to  help you sever yourself from an inanimate object, don’t panic.

Wait until nightfall when the heat is dispelled and then calmly back up. Don’t worry about burdening friends and neighbours if these are available. People are surprisingly forthcoming to aid their fellow man (or woman) and it might even prove a bit of a lark for them to dislodge you. Best of luck to you and have a nice, dry summer.

MY T-SHIRTS DON’T LIKE ME

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RON’S WISDOM SALON: A fictional advice column

Dear Ron,
I am happy to hear that you have become a fashion consultant. I didn’t think you had it in you. Let me tell you a problem I have with my clothes. I like to wear crew-neck t-shirts. Okay, who doesn’t, right? But I am finding that  when I wear the kind I like, which are the high ones (my curse!) the neckband  eventually begins to curl down, causing me no end of aggravation, and I am always nervous that people are going to judge me for it. Is there any way to keep this from happening? – I mean about the t-shirts.
Too High For Comfort

Dear THFC,

First of all, where do you get off thinking I didn’t have it in me to pass on good fashion advice? I happen to be as natty as they come. if you happen to come from Uzbekistan.
This t-shirt business, though, has got under my skin as well.  Can’t they make a t-shirt that won’t curl down? I mean we have put men on the moon. I have to tell you that if you are a high-neck, t-shirt aficionados, you will have to learn to keep your chin up, because that is what is making this nasty down-curling  come about. Your chin is causing it to fold. You might try using a brace around your neck to prevent this from happening, but I am guessing that you would stick out like a sore thumb if you do, which may make people think you are feeling sorry for yourself. You could always  turn into (if you aren’t one already) a snob and keep your nose up in the air at all times. Good luck.

My Problem Is No Problems

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RON’S WISDOM SALON: A fictional advice column

Dear  Ron,

Do you think having no problems is a problem in itself?  I have no problems today and it bothers me.

Dunno

Dear Dunno,

You are right on the money that having no problems is a problem in itself, and sometimes it can make you take your own life. Look at the Scandinavians. They have everything handed to them. They screw like sizzling rodents, they are all tall blonde and beautiful. They drink like fish. All they have to do in life is ponder the universe,  like that Ingemar Bergman guy, and make depressing movies.

Problems make people happy. You got a problem, you are focussed on it, and you try to solve it. It narrows you down so that you are not thinking, “Well, I’m gonna die and nobody will come to my funeral, and I won’t ever be back to shave my pet monkey again.”  Now that is a problem we can never resolve, so the more problems the better, and besides, where would I be if people didn’t have problems?  It would be a problem for me that I would not want to have.

I hope this helped.

MARSHMALLOWS AND BALLOONS

On By Ron KozloffIn Satire1 Comment

RON’S WISDOM SALON: A fictional advice column

Dear Ron,

I had a dream last night that I was floating around in a big air balloon. I woke up feeling elated and confused. What does it mean?

Confused

Dear Confused,

You’re confusing me. Do you mean what does the dream mean, or your confusion and elation? Let’s take it one at a time. You dreamed that you floated in an air balloon. By the way, why do they call it an air balloon? All balloons are air-bound or they wouldn’t be balloons, would they? It’s so redundant.

Okay, so you dreamed you floated in a balloon. Did you drink something before you went to sleep? Did you drink anything during the day? If yes, that probably did it. Floating in a balloon is also symbolic. It means you don’t like the ground and wish to be elsewhere. It could also mean you got a new pair of shoes, metaphorically speaking, which are killing you, and you don’t know whether to take them back or not.

My advice to you is to take them back and buy a more comfortable pair (soft leather, not too small, not too big) If the shoe fits, wear it. Many people insist on buying shoes that don’t fit them, which contributes to much misery.  There is also often a connection between floating in the air and marshmallows.

Think about it. Have you ever had thoughts about marshmallows?  Do you ever fantasize about doing things to marshmallows? Roasting them, biting them, gumming them? Do you buy the white ones or do you sometimes buy the coloured ones? If you always buy the white ones, do you sometimes wish they were coloured, or vice-versa?

Be honest with yourself. Be alert to possible color biases. Make sure there is not too much white in your life. You might think you are brightening up the atmosphere, but you’re not, you’re just leaving yourself open to stains. You are inviting problems.

There is a possibility also you may even have a perverted need to be stained in some way because you don’t feel you are worthy. You subconsciously wish to be besmirched. I don’t know if you are worthy or not, so I won’t go there. I assume you are a worthy person because you read my column, but even I can’t tell  for sure, so  wisdom dictates that I go no further with speculation.

As for your elation, I would suggest that you  rub the smirk off your face pronto and face reality. Did you really think you could just float away and bump around in the sky for the rest of your life? You are not a bird, after all. Don’t be so darn happy!

I could call you a coward for being elated, but I won’t. The confusion part I understand. Here you were, fading off into sleepland, never expecting to be abducted in some airborne device, and you wake up thinking how do I get home from the airport. Well, it was an imaginary voyage! You did not really go sky riding,  you are on terra firma now. I might suggest that if you want to avoid confusing dreams, you try keeping your eyes slightly open when you sleep. Clothespins often do the trick.

I hope this helped.

HAIR PAIN

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RON’S WISDOM SALON: A fictional advice column

Dear Ron,
My problem is this: I cannot get my hair cut right. I tell my barber to stop at the point where it looks to be the right length. Okay. So what happens? I walk outside, catching my reflection in shop windows and  feeling pretty good about the length. Next I go home and take a shower and shampoo. What that does, believe it or not, is make my hair seem a lot shorter than it was in all those shop windows.

And this less- than-hairy look is something I have to live with for the next week or so, which causes my digestive juices to circulate so horribly that I am forever expelling gas. PLEASE don’t tell me to have my barber stop cutting sooner. I did that last time and had the problem of overhairiness, which was just as painful. I don’t know anymore what to say to my barber. (which has caused another problem, but not to go there at this juncture)

Hair Horror

Dear Hair,

Hair can be horrible –no doubt  about it. Why do we have hair at all is the question I have been asking myself since the age of six. I finally found the answer in my 65th year: We have inherited it from our simian ancestors. Apparently it is a way for animals to protect themselves from the elements. Big deal! I mean it’s cold, you jump into a pair of woollen long ones, right? No need to have hairy legs.

The same for the head. Wrap a scarf around it and travel. What in the world is the point of hair? Itches, becomes a snowstorm when you scratch that makes you  resemble Christmastime in a fairytale. Washing it takes forever and you always get shampoo in out of the way places. You dry it, it blows every which way but the right one. Then it sticks up where you don’t want it to and flattens out when you don’t want it to. It changes colour and nobody told it to. And it’s the first damn thing you see when you look at somebody. You are always comparing thicknesses.

If I had the ear of Mother Nature, I would ask her to do away with the pesky problem altogether. Just leave us with a nice smooth surface and be done with it. But She, knowing women, would probably be too busy at the beauty parlour to give me a straight answer. About your problem? I am just too agitated about the wider question to give you responsible guidelines at the moment. My hair is such a mess! Forgive me, Hair.

I know this didn’t help.

MY SERIAL KILLER BOYFRIEND IS TOO NICE

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RON’S WISDOM SALON: A fictional advice column

Dear Ron,

I have a problem that I would like to ask you about.  I have a new boyfriend and we have been together for like about  a month and a half and the thing is we never argue. Maybe people say that is a good thing, but I am kinda worried.

Is it normal to never argue?  I like a good argument. It airs things out and makes you feel light afterward. I love him (kinda) and I think we have a future together. He is likable with a good personality and he thinks about the future. He says he wants to be a serial killer someday. What would you say our chances are?

Mariko

Dear Mariko,

You have a boyfriend with whom you never argue and you wonder whether that is a problem. Well, it can be if you are the kind of person who likes to argue and he won’t engage you.  There is nothing more frustrating for an arguer who is in the mood for a good dust up than to have nobody to dust up with.

We tend to think we can always find something to disagree about with a person and then this person doesn’t take the bait. What can you do about this?

I would find out what he really doesn’t like and then go to work to provoke him about it. Go out of your way to make him miserable and angry.

The fact that he wants to be a serial killer tells you that eventually he will react in a negative way, which is just what you need.  He may even try to kill you at some point, but then you will know finally that you can be compatible.

Don’t let him kill you, of course, but explain to him that you appreciate him for conflicting with you, and then try to make it work out between you.  That seems like the only reasonable procedure.

Good luck, and I hope this helps.

Dear Ron,

I did like you said. I went into the basement room where he lives and I kinda messed up his torture kit.

This got him upset , but he he didn’t express it in an unpleasant way. He just dropped his habitual smile and explained to me quietly that he would prefer it if “you kept your paws off my equipment.” Then he offered me a glass of grape juice. I knew that I was in the wrong, so I apologized. Then we had sex. Still no real arguments though.

Mariko

Dear Mariko,

You are not taking it far enough.  You could have pushed him on the “paws” comment, angrily rebutting that “these here appendages are no paws, certainly not, they are clearly enough two human hands.” He might’ve gone for that one.

You could also have challenged him about his living quarters, berating him for living in a basement, which is just as likely to make him into a cliché in his future career. You need to pick up on anything that will push his buttons. Keep trying.

Dear Ron,

I finally hit on something that worked. He invited me to his mother’s house for dinner, and after it was all over we were walking back to his basement when I told him what a nice person his mother was.

Well, that was the wrong thing to say apparently, because he hit the ceiling, calling himself cursed for coming out of her womb, that she had made his life hell itself, and that I was just like her, that is a female. I was so happy to see him get angry that I got angry too and we spat and yelled at each other for twenty minutes. Then we had sex. So thanks for making me pursue it, Ron.

Dear Mariko,

Excellent. The point here is that everyone has an Achilles’ heel, which you obviously noticed during your walk to his basement.

DON’T BUY SHAMPOO IF YOU’RE BALD

On By Ron KozloffIn SatireLeave a comment

RON’S WISDOM SALON: A fictional advice column

Dear Ron,

Sometimes I think that I am wasting my life. I have this anxiety that I should be doing something with my life, but I am never able to decide what that “it” is. Maybe writing to you will show me the light. Sorry if this is too vague.

Existential Ed

Dear Ed,

You certainly wrote to the right person.  I spent the morning checking the oil quality on various body parts.

Let me pick out some words you employ:  “Wasting. Anxiety. Vague.”  Waste, according to the dictionary can mean many things.( They always list five or six meanings of one word which is annoying . I will go with number three. “To fail to use…” )

Are you failing to use something? Let us say you have a key that you never use. Well, you are wasting that key. It might be for a lock you don’t have  anymore. What should you do in that case? Throw the damn thing out, of course, or give it away as a gift.

Let us say you have shampoo and you are a bald person. Stop buying shampoo. It is a waste. Get the picture? But –and this is a pretty big but- I think I am hearing from you that you are wasting time. Okay. You can’t throw time in the garbage, can you? Or stop buying it. What you can do is to use it. Use it to do something. Get up in the morning and give yourself an objective for the day. Go to the toilet. Have a cracker and some marmalade.

Help someone out. Be a volunteer. That is always satisfying. Knock on your neighbour’s door and offer to do his dishes.  Don’t take no for an answer. If you see a lady carrying a purse that is probably heavy, offer to take it off her hands. You would be surprised at her reaction. Don’t let her give you anything back either. If she objects, just smile and insist.

You mention anxiety. Don’t let her anxiety throw you off. All people are a bit shy about speaking to strangers. At first. Once she gets to know you, it will be different. And never be vague. Tell them exactly what to want to do.  Say, “I want to polish your car.” Or better yet, find their key, get right in the driver’s seat and tell them that you will take them around town.

I hope you are catching on. Once you get home at night you won’t feel like you have been wasting your time at all. Let me know how it all went.

I HAVE ALWAYS WANTED MEATIER ARMS

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RON’S WISDOM SALON: A fictional advice column

Dear Ron,
I have always wanted meatier arms, and now I am finally getting them.  But now that I have them  I want more!  Am I being greedy?
Meat  Lover

Dear Meat Lover,

I am supposing that you will probably never be satisfied with your arms. I say that because it is like the person who has only known poverty all his life, and then one day he gets some money and it makes him feel better about himself. But soon he wants to feel even better and he thinks by accumulating more resources he will. Of course, once this ball gets rolling, it doesn’t stop, and the person finds out that he can never really be satisfied.
Tolstoy once wrote a story called “How Much Meat Does A Man Need” (or something quite close to that) in which a person begins by ordering a smoked meat sandwich in a deli, after  which he is still hungry, and so he orders another, and another, and he just keeps going, wolfing down the meat rabidly.
Eventually the short-order guy is getting a sore arm making the sandwiches and tells the customer maybe a little fish would be a better choice. But the customer is so fixated on his meat that he rejects the cook’s advice. Eventually, the cook, walks out of the kitchen with a sling on his arm and begs the customer to end his meal. The customer agrees to this on the one condition that the  cook tell him where he can purchase a cow.
Do you see where this is going? I hope you would agree that Mr. Sandwich has gone overboard. My best advice to you is to be satisfied with the degree of meatiness of your arms and don’t make a pig of yourself.

TOILET MISERY

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RON’S WISDOM SALON: A fictional advice column

Dear Ron,
I don’t wish to be rude, but I just have to know. How often is it normal to push food out from the bottom end? In my situation, I am spending lots of time on the hoop. I go like there is no tomorrow. Even my toilet is fed up with me and wishes I would leave it alone. I got that message because it is not flushing properly and probably feels it is being overworked.  Am I overreacting?
Toilet Misery

Dear Toilet,

“Defecate” is the proper verb for the function you are referring to. Make a note of it. The words you use to describe it are excessive. Okay. Numbers? I have never pondered this question before. It does not often come up in conversation.Let me take a walk around the house and consider your inquiry.

I am back. The number I came up with is one or two, once after breakfast and possibly once after lunch.  If you are squatting more than that, chances are you are eating too many busy foods. Have yourself some rice sticks, these will keep your door solidly in place.

This should help, and if it doesn’t, see a medicine man.

MY BOYFRIEND THINKS I’M TOO HAIRY

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RON’S WISDOM SALON: A fictional advice column

Dear Ron,

My boyfriend had a “Brazilian” and now he teases me for being too hairy. Am I too hairy?

Goathead

Dear Goathead,

Be proud of your fur.  Some of the best people are hairy. Think of Jesus. The man never took a haircut, or if he did, it is not mentioned.

I for one enjoy a hairy woman. They are easier to hold onto, and hairy people have ape-like qualities that I admire. Whoever said that human skin should resemble glass? Give me a tuft here and there any day.

That said, I must comment on this boyfriend of yours. I have looked up  “Brazilian” on Wikipedia and learned that it is when a human has his pubic hair shaven away. The name , I understand, comes from the habit of young Brazilians who must shave their downstairs beards so that they can look good in their bikinis on Brazilian beaches. Look. Whatever heats your toast.

Maybe your boyfriend is an avid beach loafer and is looking ahead to the warmer months. Or he gets tired of scratching that mangle of follicles he has covering his jewels and said to himself one day, “Let me be free of bugs!”

To this, I would remind him that we all want to be free of the presence of the little ones, but not everybody thinks murdering  their body hair is the way to go. There is, after all, something called bug spray, or simply washing oneself on a daily basis which can wave the wand.

But truth be told, Goathead, I think this Brazilian stuff has much deeper roots (no pun intended).  I think your man must have something of the Alien about him. Think about it. Have you ever seen an Alien with a beard. Chances are they have no pubic hair either. There is something that tells me that your boy buddy no longer wants to be part of us and is hankering for another club to join. Why not dump the ingrate and find a real man to snuggle up to?

I hope this helped.

DIGITAL WIDOWER

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RON’S WISDOM SALON: A fictional advice column

Dear Ron,

My life is hell. My girlfriend loves her computers more than she loves me. She would rather be sitting in front of her screens –she has TWO in her office- than beside me, holding my hand. I feel like a digital widower.

D. W.

Dear Digital,

Has the world lost its mind? Have humans crossed the frontiers of sanity? These are rhetorical questions, but I must answer them nevertheless : Yes and Yes! Two screens! I can just see her head bobbing from one to the other like a loco chicken eyeing techno snacks, so that she can forget about her hombre for a while.  She sounds to me like a sadistic witch who is bent on transforming her love interest into a lonely, bitter man.

I don’t know what she does on her computer. If she is chatting, well, most of the weaker vessel do that, they were born to it, don’t you know? It comes with millions of years of nudnicking their hunting husbands about how tough the carcasses they have brought in are compared to their next-cave neighbours’ husbands’ meat trays.

Girls will be girls, after all. But If she is onto more nefarious activities, like searching out female porn websites, the heck with her. Put a stop to it! You don’t  want  her comparing equipment with the chunks we can peruse these days. Be a man! Wrestle her to the floor and show her what’s what. In any case, don’t let the b…..  flush you too far down the toilet. Get a hobby.

Get a life!

DON’T SEND FLOWERS TO MY HOUSE

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RON’S WISDOM SALON: A fictional advice column

Dear Ron,


What is the etiquette when someone sends you an e-mail to congratulate you on some accomplishment. I get so many of them that I hardly have the time to reply. Is it a mortal sin not to do so.  Thank you in advance for your reply.


Sally Watson

Dear Sally,

What do you think? When someone compliments you on anything in life, it is only natural to thank the person who gives it. That exchange goes together like milk and cookies. Why wouldn’t it also apply to an e-mail? When someone compliments me I always compliment them back.

For instance, when someone tells me how great my advice is, I will usually counter with something like, “Why, thank you. And I think you have good posture.” Or I will point out that they too could give advice and that they only need to get a good typewriter.

I think that you should answer each and every e-mail you receive, otherwise people might think that you have passed away and start sending flowers to your house. You say you don’t have time. I bet you have time to powder your cheeks in the morning. It hardly takes longer to write an e-mail.  Don’t be lazy. Lazy people end up in a very warm place in the afterlife. Good luck and get busy.

I HAVE A DREAD OF DOORS

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RON’S WISDOM SALON: A fictional advice column

Dear Ron,


My problem is with doors. When I approach a public doorway, I never know which door to take because there are often several leading to the same place, and I panic. Will it be the  large door, the smaller one beside it, or the  revolver?  There is also the problem of deciding if it is a “push” or a “pull”, and even when these are marked  it is usually not clearly visible and mistakes are made.  Is there a way I could be more decisive about my exits and entrances?


Door Dread

Dear Door Dread,

I usually go for the one that seems the most  friendly, but it’s not always the right choice. This is not an easy question. Have you thought of going “eeny-meeny?”  That would take it out of your hands and put it on the shoulders of chance, and you could then try to court the gods of Chance in some ritual by leaving them nightly fruit so that they will be on your side.


The push/ pull thing I totally agree with you about.  Can’t these door makers get it right for once?  Make the words bigger for Gordon’s sake.  There is the added confusing factor there in that both push and pull begin with the same first two letters, so people will need to exercise vigilance, but at least the alert ones will get the hang of it sooner or later and not have to do that annoying double-jerk maneuver each time, which always causes embarrassment and consternation.


For instance, a gentleman of my acquaintance was with a lady and wanted to open a door for her as would be expected. Well, they approach the door and he pulled when he should have pushed with so much force that he dislocated his shoulder in the process, causing him to begin gesticulating wildly and whinnying to the point that the young lady had to swallow a tranquilizer. Needless to say, it put him in a poor light, and never again would the lady answer his phone calls. He is now in therapy because he cannot approach a public door without getting a skin rash. I wish you the best of luck in mastering your door dilemma.

I THINK RESOLUTIONS ARE IMPORTANT

On By Ron KozloffIn SatireLeave a comment

RON’S WISDOM SALON: A fictional advice column

Dear Ron,

Well, the new year is upon us, Ron. Do you have any resolutions? If you do, how long do you think it will be before you break them…  lol?

Jester

Dear Jester,

I have made one resolution, that is the one I make every year: to be a kinder, gentler person. So far I have been doing alright, but that is probably because I haven’t spoken to anyone since January 1.

I think relolutions are important. They make us think about summoning our will power, rising to the occasion, and reaching for our goals. They give us purpose, solidify this purpose and give us solidity. For the solid, they provide even more solidity. For the less than solid, they are a source of strength.  For the fragile, they are a challenge. For the challenged, they are a motivation. For the motivated, they are an even greater motivation. For the wicked, they are a reason to do good. For the good, they may be a reason to do better. For the best, they are a prod to do better than best – give 193 % rather than only 192%. For all of us, they are resolutions.

A wise Irishman I met one spring day at a hop remarked to me, “Mankind must resolve to march, and once marching to go on marching as long as possible.”  He then suited action to word, and strode around the table until he collapsed. Whenever the new year is upon us, I always think of his red face.

Happy New Year to all my readers, and AVANTI!

MY WIFE SNORES LOUDLY

On By Ron KozloffIn SatireLeave a comment

RON’S WISDOM SALON: A fictional advice column

Dear Ron,

I am in a delicate situation. My dear wife snores LOUDLY!!! Lying beside her is not unlike occupying trackside seats at the Grand Prix.  She is so sensitive and ladylike in her manner otherwise that I have never been able to break it to her gently for fear of of ruffling her feathers. She would accuse me of lying, or worse, confusing her with someone else I have slept with.

It has landed me in an awkward situation as you may well imagine. I love her but I just can’t bear my middle- ear crackling like tv. static all night long. Please don’t talk to me about earplugs. I have tried them but they always end up up my nostrils or in other orifices before I can drift off.  I have begun to twitch uncontrollably of late because of the stress. How to find relief, O Wise One?

Twitchy

Dear Twitchy,

Have you ever considered murder? Just a touch of rib-tickling there, Suffering One. I think I know why the good Lord gave females the ability to produce sound: It is to make it improbable for their husbands to get in a word edge-wise, even while the they are asleep.

One method I have tried with some success with my own better-half when she is making a racket on her back is to take hold of her nose, pinching it so that she cannot breathe, forcing her to open her mouth wide to suck up any available 0xygen. It calms the din.

Of course, one must keep right at it if she is not to close it again and bring on a renewal of her “music”, which is counterproductive if one is to get any decent sleep. You might try clothespins. Clip one on to her under lip and see what happens.  My last resort would be to plant sand bags around her head and dig yourself under a hard pillow.  Throw down a substantial dose of Ambien as well to make certain. Good luck and keep me abreast of the developments.

I hope this helped

HOODIES LOWER IQ

On By Ron KozloffIn SatireLeave a comment

RON’S WISDOM SALON: A fictional advice column

Dear Ron,

I have a problem with my hoody. The cords always come uneven, which is driving me crazy. Any suggestions?

Cord Crazy

Dear Cord,

First of all, you shouldn’t be wearing a hoody. It puts too much weight on your neck, which drags energy from your  brain and lowers I.Q. Plus when you are in a hood it is like being in a vault and nobody can see your ears, which may cause prejudice on the part of future employers and prevent you from ever finding a job to support yourself and your family. You are likely to wind up in poverty and destitution.
If you are willing to chance that outcome, I would advise you to stare straight ahead at all times, not allowing your eyes to fall on your uneven cord tags, convincing yourself, all the while, that they are  hanging  perfectly equal.

I hope this helped.