Hey, all you heart-beaters out there in reader-land.  You may not have heard of me (y'know, if you live underground in a bomb shelter with no TV or somethin'), but I'm Maggot Boy.  That's right, the superhero saviour of Sovereign City, beating back the slobbering mindless with the help of my faithful retard, Mr. Chainey!  I mean, sidekick.  You can call me Davey.

Anyway, you may be wondering how it is a dead guy got saddled with some kind of advice column.  Stop.  All you need to know is that, being a dead guy, I know absolutely everything there is to know.  Period.  I can totally solve any problem in the absolute best way possible, because I am a freaking genius.  Especially when it comes to girls.  Don't question me, 'cause I'm always right (unless you're Sam, but what does she know?).

So, send me your crap!  Questions and life problems and that kinda thing.  I'll tell you everything you need to know, and I won't even ask for any money.  I've got four lucky people's problems all lined up with perfect solutions right here, so let's do this.

Disclaimer:  Being all-knowing, any fuck-ups in spelling, grammar, and whatever else are totally never my fault.  They're yours.


Dear Davey,

I have come to you're awesome knowledge to find out one question...
Why do people yell at you when you stand in any position NOT facing the doors in an elevator?
I have done this REPEATEDLY, and got kicked out of the building (malls, office buildings, apartment complexes), multiple times.

Ps. you are the definition of awesome.

Signed,
Zeno's Paradox.

Dear Zeno's Paradox,

What the fuck is with your name?  Anyway, you're not alone.  Thousands of people get kicked out of buildings (especially tall ones with lots of glass where everyone's got sticks up their asses (i.e. the Palmer Institute)) every year for refusing to conform to society's harsh elevator standards.  Man, I remember back in the day when you could face a wall instead and it wasn't a big fuckin' deal.  Not today, though.  This is because humans have recently developed the ability to read a person's mind through long, uncomfortable stretches of eye contact.  If you're facing the people on the elevator instead of the door, there's a chance you might make eye contact with them and learn their gross little secrets, like that they put peanut butter on their balls and let their dog lick it off.  

Now, you may be wondering, "What the hell, why didn't I know this?"  Well, most people don't.  Avoiding eye contact is just natural to people, so a lot of mind reading is prevented on accident.  But all for the better, am I right?  Nobody really wants to know that crap anyway.

P.S.  I know.


Dear Davey,

Well I really like this girl and she likes me, but one of our friends don't approve of the relationship, she says that I shouldn't care..but the last time I was with her, one of our friends was mad at her for being with me. So I was wondering, what can I do about the friend that disapprove of our relationship?

Thanks for your time!
Vampry

Dear Vampry,

It's just the one friend who doesn't like it, right?  Man, this is obvious.  This one friend who's all pissed off is totally crazy about you and jealous of this girl, so they're being all pissy about the two of you being together.  Either that, or maybe the friend is some kind of evil mantis monster.  You know, like in that one episode of Buffy?  And the friend is pissed 'cause now you can't be seduced since you like this chick, so the friend will never be able to lure you into their lair and liquor you up and have sex with you then cut your head off.  Or eat it, or whatever mantises do.  Honestly, though, it's all the same principle.  In case it's the mantis thing, though, you should probably sneak into that friend's house and cut all their limbs off and hack their head off with an axe.  Just in case.


Dear Davey, why the hell are you so rad?

Regards,
Caitlin

Dear Caitlin,

Because I'm a lovable scamp who causes mischief and mayhem but always saves the day and sometimes skates.  Also, Chainey's innate dumbness makes me look even better.  And I look like Brad Pitt.


Dear Davey!,
I live about an hour from my boyfriend and visit him every weekend, I'm even about to move in with him. So it's not like he doesn't see me that often, but he always says he misses me and whatnot. Which was cute at first, but now is kind of annoying. How do I tell my boyfriend he's a sissy without being a bitch?
~One who wears the pants.

Dear Pants-Wearer,

Your boyfriend is a sad, whiny emo fuck who is probably actually a girl.  Have you checked lately?  If you're cool with that, though, here's what you do:  Be a bitch.  'Cause it's not being a bitch when it's something he needs to hear, and I think it's something he needs to hear.  Just go over to see him sometime, and when he prances out to greet you wearing a frilly pink apron and carrying the heart-shaped cookies he baked 'cause he missed you so much, punch him in the face and tell him to man up.  For effect, make sure you crush a couple of the cookies under the bigassed army boots you're wearing because you're manlier than him.  You could maybe piss on the crumbs, too.  If you've got a funnel or something.  If that doesn't work and he just starts crying, tie him to a chair and feed him nothing but steak and gravy for three weeks.  And give him testosterone injections.


Well, that's it for today's column.  All you guys who wrote in, get out there and do what I told you to.  If it doesn't work, you're doing it wrong.  Try pretending you're me and doing it over (unless it's something nasty like sucking face with a dude).  Send in all your questions and concerns, and try not to fuck up too bad before I answer them.