Posts Tagged With: bad advice

The Return of the Bad Advice Column

 

Dear Readers,

I feel a slight disruption in the force as if millions of people are crying out for bad advice. Why do we feel this need? Because we don’t follow good advice. We are contrary. We has filled this void of bad advice? No one, not for years. Your cries have called me back from retirement. I shall help you. I shall once more dispense bad advice. Oh, it will be stupendously bad, but your needs will be fulfilled. You will once again be happy. And what is wrong with that?

All you, dear reader, need to do is the comment on this blog with your questions. I shall reply with bad advice in the next column, probably once a month.

Or post your question on my Facebook(tm) page
Paul De Lancey

Your questions, please!

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Gentle Reader,

below is the last Bad Advice Column. Enjoy.

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TLR asks: Should I put a nasty note on this truck?

Dear TLR: No, as tempting as that might be, you can’t out puswad a puswad. Unless, of course, you have access to a particle accelerator. First, rent a large tow truck. Put the puswad’s truck on the tow truck. You might need to buy and speed read, The Complete Freaking Moron’s Guide to Operating a Tow Truck. You should also buy, The Complete Freaking Moron’s Guide to Speed Reading. Okay, the offending truck is ready to be towed.

Drive your tow truck to a site with a large particle accelerator. Ask to be let in. Note: your chances of success go up if you say please and thank you. If they say no, you can probably bash down the gate with your heavy tow truck. One inside, get the mean person’s truck into the particle accelerator. You will have to work quickly if you bashed down the gate. Press the button marked, “Accelerate,” and whoosh, the meanie’s truck will soon reach a velocity close to the speed of light. Any collision between the truck and particle accelerator’s walls will disintegrate the truck. Sweep up the atomized bits of truck–cleanliness is always in style–and go back to the parking lot. Place the back of atomized truck pits where the truck originally took up four spots. Add a sign that reads, “Next time it will be you that gets atomized if you park like a jerk.” Now that will get the jerk’s attention.

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KD asks: Will it ever be acceptable to openly roll one’s eyes when one sees someone do something ridiculous like hold up entering the bus to finish a text? O_O

Dear KD: Oh yes, it already is. However, just rolling your eyes is no longer enough. The texting doofus needs to be taught a lesson. Simply throw a loosely wrapped package of lutefisk, five pounds should be heavy enough, at the texter. The force and stench of the hurled lutefisk will knock him backwards and onto the sidewalk. He’ll a nasty bump on his head that he’ll never forget. Don’t worry about the people on the bus. They’ll be happy that the bus will no longer be delayed. They’ll also never have to smell that lutefisk again. It’s a win-win outcome for everyone.

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CA asks: What is the sound of one hand clapping?

Dear CA: The metal thingy hanging from the metal of a giant six-foot high church bell is called a clapper. This is your clue. Simply climb up the side of a church–the Spanish missions in California are good places to try–and get inside. You’ll need to wear clothes that match the color of the church’s walls or you’ll be spotted and stopped. Once inside the bell, smash your hand into the side of the bell. The sound you’ll hear before becoming permanently deaf will be the sound of one hand clapping.

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CC asks: What’s a good date plan for a couple that have been married for over 30 years?

Dear CC: After 30 years, you’ve probably done every possible type of date there is. Except, sky diving over an active volcano. Hire a pilot to fly you over the center of the lava spurting volcano. You might have to ask around a lot before you find one willing to do this. Be persistent.

Simply strap on your parachutes and jump out the plane. Be sure to wait for the pilot’s signal. Safety, as always, is important. When the time is right, pull the cord and your parachute will deploy. Did you take parachuting lessons? I hope so. Twist so that at the last moment you will veer away from the death-vomiting volcano.

Is this dangerous? Yes, it is. But if all goes well, you and your sweetheart will have drawn closer together, your love forged even stronger by fire. And sitting close to each other on a couch looking longingly into each other’s eye will be just what you’ll want to do for the rest of your lives.

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MA asks: If you write a book about failure and it doesn’t sell, would it be a success?

Dear MA: I’m not equipped to answer such a deep philosophical question. But the Tibetan monks would be. Now, the Chinese government is really a super huge dictatorship. Millions of members are in the ruling Communist party. I wouldn’t be surprised at all, really, if Guinness Book of Records(tm) lists the Chinese government as the biggest dictatorship ever.

Anyway, being a dictatorship and all, the Chinese government tries real hard to suppress all discontent against them. They are indeed very thorough about this. And it’s an atheistic ruling body as well. So, it’s real hard to believe they’d let you see a monk. So you’ll have sneak your way to one.

Two possibilities exist. First, fly to Shanghai. Slip by customs without being noticed. May I suggest pointing at the sky and yelling, “Look, Halley’s comet!” Continue to be invisible as you ride trains and busses to a monastery. Ask a monk. Get an answer. Revel in the enlightenment before sneaking your way back home. Second. fly to Bombay, now Mumbai. Take the train to the Tibetan border. Hire a Sherpa guide. Bring oxygen canisters to help you breathe as you cross the Himalayas. Oh and a warm fur parka will help you with the intense cold. Don’t forget to watch for bullets. The Chinese and Indian armies are currently skirmishing with each other. As above, get your answer and come back home.

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– Paul De Lancey, The Comic Chef

My cookbook, Following Good Food Around the World, with its 180 wonderful recipes, my newest novel, Do Lutheran Hunks Eat Mushrooms, a hilarious apocalyptic thriller, and all my other books, are available on amazon.com.

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Bad Advice Friday +1, 8-05-17

I am ready. I am able to dispense with stupendously bad advice only one date late because:

1) I had a spasm of productivity.
2) I am holding an ice-cold root beer.
3) I am caught up with laundry.

So, I shall once more be dispensing stupendously bad advice.

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CC asks: How can I sing if I’ve lost my voice?

Dear CC: You need to buy an iLarynxTM. Download songs to your iLarynx. Then carefully open your throat with a sharp, sterilized knife. Note, I cannot stress this enough, this self surgery is dangerous without proper sterilization. After the iLarynx is safely and comfortably placed in your throat, sew up with a thin thread. The color of the thread should match the color of your skin. I would also like to recommend purchasing the thread before performing the surgery. You only have maybe ten minutes before you lose consciousness due to loss of blood. It’s doubtful you’d be able to get to the store and back in time, especially if there’s some oaf with thirty items in the ten-items-or fewer line who also insists paying with exact change.

If you forgot to download songs to your iLarynx before surgery, may I recommend downloading songs via Wifi? If you don’t have Wifi, I suggest getting the service. Making a small hole in your throat to attach a cable from your computer seems like a false economy.

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RAS asks: I’m going on the Atkins diet. Should I put my dalmatian dog Trotsky in charge of the shopping because he likes protein and fat?

Dear RAS: Absolutely, as there apparently little evidence that the low-carbohydrate Atkins diet does anything useful at all. It would probably be safer to follow Claude Akins’ diet. Unfortunately while a superb, forceful actor, Mr. Akins never got around to publishing a cookbook. So, by default, you’ll have to follow the example of your dog and who doesn’t like dogs? Also, there is an elegant simplicity in a dog’s diet of meat which you don’t even have to cook if you don’t want to. (A side benefit of not cooking is saving money on a stove.) And don’t forget dog biscuits. Dog biscuits are so hard that they naturally grind away any plaque on your teeth. No plaque, no dental visits and who likes to go to the dentist?

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MA asks: Should I look under a toadstool for some grub?

Dear MA: It’s a lot better to look under toadstools for grub than at the toadstool itself as toadstools are often poisonous. Mushrooms look a lot like toadstools, but are not directly poisonous. Mushrooms are, however, yucky and icky beyond belief. Indeed mushrooms are quite possibly the fungus of the Devil. Do not, do not, eat mushrooms. If you do, your soul becomes his and you will go to Hell for all eternity. Enough said.

So you should instead look under the toadstool for sustenance, but what would you find there? A few twigs perhaps. A roly poly, if your lucky and are a meat eater. However, rolly pollys are best eaten at a sushi restaurant, where its taste is only displayed to its greatest advantage by a trained chef. And do you have a rolly polly sushi bar near you? I think not.

Far better than a rolly polly is the magnificent taco. The taco is God’s food and possesses magical, healing properties. Go get yourself a taco and be satisfied, healthy, and virtuous. Perhaps there’s a taco shop right around the block from you. If you live in northern Greenland, you’re screwed.

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JL asks: What should I do to earn some quick cash? *GULP*

Dear JL: You are so close to having a great idea. Everybody loves Seven ElevenTM’s Big GulpTM. Indeed soft drink sizes keep going up and up. One soda cup at a convenience, a hard word to spell, got so big that you had to hold onto two ropes to carry it. Clearly there is a big interest in drinking big sodas. However, most people are unable to drink that much soda. But we would pay big interest in watching people try.

So simply form your own Big Soda Drinking League (BSDL.) Collect corporate sponsorships. Let their money come rolling in. In the meantime, before the season starts, go into training by drinking ever and ever larger amounts of soda in one sitting. Go for the gold. Excelsior! That or pole dancing.

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TLH asks: Should I adapt Paul De Lancey recipes to be vegetarian friendly?

Dear TLH: Absolutely, any recipe by Paul De Lancey is fantastic. The easiest way to make his recipes vegetarian friendly is start with a recipe that’s already vegetarian. This is the sort of thing that seems obvious only after someone says it.

Alternatively, go to the store and buy vegetarian substitutes for various meats. Some of these substitutes are good, some are okay, and some taste like soap. They are, however, uniformly expensive. How expensive? You’ll have to take up robbing banks. Be careful, though, about serving vegetarian substitutes to law enforcement. They’ll take it as a sign of you living way beyond your means and start investigating you.

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– Paul De Lancey, The Comic Chef

My cookbook, Following Good Food Around the World, with its 180 wonderful recipes, my newest novel, Do Lutheran Hunks Eat Mushrooms, a hilarious apocalyptic thriller, and all my other books, are available on amazon.com.

Categories: bad advice, bad advice Friday | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Bad Advice Friday, 6-02-17

I am ready. I am able to dispense with stupendously bad advice on time because:

1) Plate tectonics was not as bad this week as it was last week.
2) I am one with the universe.
3) Taco forces are advancing all over the glove.

So, I shall once more be dispensing stupendously bad advice.

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LF asks: Why can’t I fly?

Dear LF: You can! You can! You just need a giant slingshot. How big? Oh, about ten yards wide. You will, of course, need a lot of strong men to pull back the sling shot for you. Go to a biker bar and set up your slingshot between two trees. Then run over all their Harley DavidsonsTM several times with a pickup truck. Go into the bar and yell, “Hey wooses, I destroyed your hogs with my pickup trucks. Na na na poo poo!” It’s important to say “na na na poo poo.” They will certainly chase you out the door after that. Place yourself in the slingshot’s pocket, point to the smashed motorcycles, and say, “Hey wooses, what are you going to do about that?” They will certainly pull the slingshot back as far as they can. The joke will be on them however because you will fly through the air when they release. Oh, and I wouldn’t bother going back to whatever will be left of your truck. But you will have flown. And double oh, wear a helmet. Safety first and all that.

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SF asks: How do you pronounce covfefe?

Dear SF: Just like it looks.

Dear SF: Don’t listen to that advice. Change one in a song to covfefe. For example, change the song “Mariah” in Paint Your Wagon to “Covfefe.” “Covfefe, covfefe, they call the wind, Covfefe.” Then change “Shipoopi” from The Music Man to “Covfefe.” Do this for all sorts of songs, new ones too like “Hello” by Adele. Then go around home, work, and shopping, singing these songs one after another. Your covfefe song that gets the most people to grab their heads and yell, “Augh! I can’t get that song out of my head” will be right pronunciation of covfefe.

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SF asks: If I swallow my head, is that good Karma?

Dear SF: I am guessing it’s bad Karma as what you will be attempting will come back to bite you. See what I did there? But seriously, you really will choke yourself to death if you try to swallow your head. Your head is simply much too large to go down your throat in one piece. You will need to devour your head in several pieces. Plus swallowing your entire head is a severe breach of etiquette. A little bit a time, that way you won’t get noticed. And if you’re going to eat your head, I really suggest sautéing it in olive oil with minced onion and garlic cloves. Finally, look at the color of your skin. A light skinned head pairs with a white wine, champagne even if this is a festive occasion and a red wine if you’re dark skinned. Go ahead splurge on an good, expensive wine as this will be a once in a lifetime experience.

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LF asks: Can a stupid person be a smart ass?

Dear LF: This is tough one for me. Best get expert advice. Fortunately this is easy to do. Simply join the Marine Corps. This will entail a four-year commitment–Boy, that word is toughie to spell isn’t it?–but you’re on a quest for knowledge and such trifles shouldn’t deter you. Your drill instructor will give you an order on your very first day. He will then ask you, “Any questions?” This is your opportunity to ask, “Can a stupid person be a smart ass?” The knowledgeable sergeant will tell you loud and clear. Indeed, your inquisitive nature will so capture the heart of the drill instructor that he will pay special attention to you. His thoughtfulness will make basic training go by in no time.

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– Paul De Lancey, The Comic Chef

My cookbook, Following Good Food Around the World, with its 180 wonderful recipes, my newest novel, Do Lutheran Hunks Eat Mushrooms, a hilarious apocalyptic thriller, and all my other books, are available on amazon.com.

Categories: bad advice Friday | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Bad Advice Friday +1, 5-27-17

Oh my gosh. It’s Saturday already. I missed getting the advice on Friday. My excuses are:

1) Work took longer than expected.
2) I was helping a friend.
3) I dislocated my shoulder. (It popped back in this morning.)

So, I shall once more be dispensing stupendously bad advice. As a bonus, it is untimely as well.

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ME asks: Should I focus my efforts on writing, jewelry making, art, accounting, or Amazon prime deliveries by dog sled? What will reap the greatest financial and personal reward?

Dear ME: The markets for writing, jewelry, making, art, and accounting are quite clogged with competition. Brilliant as you are, you must find a niche market that employs all your talents. Simply make artistic jewelry, then etch your novels on them. You will have to write small. Instead of books taking 423 pages, your magnum opuses will require 1,623 rings or 421 bracelets. This endeavor can’t fail to make you millions. Just imagine, a man gives his sweetheart a gold ring, platinum even. She oohs and aahs over the ring’s beauty. The man gets lucky. Next morning, she reads your wring. She becomes entranced, then she gets to the cliffhanger. She must read more. She pesters her man until she gets another of your rings. She loves this ring’s understated elegance and again loves your writing, as who would not? The man gets lucky once more. He sees a pattern. He encourages his love to ask for another ring. She eagerly agrees. Soon he has bought all 1,623 rings and they have 17 kids. You will have grossed $1,623,000 in sales to the energizer-bunny man. Naturally, he will have had to sell cocaine to pay for the rings, but maybe he was tired of his old job. Of course, you will be making so much money that you will need all of your accountant training to keep track. And yes, you should deliver all your novel jewelry by dog sled. The press will love it; you will get free publicity. The public will think the dog-sled delivery so cute that they will order your jewelry just to see the dog sleds come to their doors. These new customers will be hooked by your cliff-hanger writing and will buy and buy and buy. I don’t see a downside to this.

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MK states: I can’t… I just… can’t.

Dear MK: Yes you can. You need a chant, a mantra if you will, to give yourself a positive outlook. May I suggest chanting, “I know I can, I know I can, I know I can.” Changing your attitude doesn’t happen immediately. You must chant this mantra all day long no matter whether you find yourself in a stall in a public restroom, or positioning a dentist’s drill towards your patient in your office. Eventually, you’ll feel better. I guarantee it.

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MA asks: I can? I have always wondered if one synchronized swimmer drowns, why the other ones don’t too? Please advise…

Dear MA: The other synchronized swimmers better darn well drown as well or the team will receive horrible scores from the judges. How synchronized–gosh, synchronized is hard to spell– is it to have one swimmer drown and not the others? Not at all. It’s an all-or-nothing sort of thing, like the Three Musketeers motto of “All for one and one for all.” Those swordsmen certainly knew how to impress judges with their synchronized sword fighting. And for goodness sake, remember that judges don’t care in the slightest, if the drowning team member is saying “Good bye, cruel world,” having a heart attack, or offing himself for his creative independence. If you don’t immediately synchronize your routine to this extemporaneous event, you will get zeroes from the judges. Then you really will want to kill yourself. You might as well kill yourself in competition and leave this world in a blaze of glory.

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BRW asks: Relax . . . We’re all crazy. It’s not a competition. Is this true?

Dear BRW: It is certainly not true. Murders and terrorists thrive on the adrenaline and the notoriety they get from being the craziest. And they surely are crazy. Would they kill people if no one noticed? Heck no. They know the rule, “No style, no attention.” At one time, people considered pie throwers to be the craziest people. The world was at peace, happy even. The motion pictures took over and did the pie-throwing thing to death. Pie throwers were no longer deemed the craziest. People desiring the title of “Mr. Craziest” gravitated to murders. That worked fine for a while. Then other people joined in and just killing someone just wasn’t considered all that crazy anymore. So, people started offing people in larger numbers and more dramatic ways. This is all bad. This is where you step in, BRW. Come up with a non-violent activity that is even crazier than murder and terrorism. The news media will cover only you, the new King of Crazy. Soon those mass killers will seem suddenly so blah. No one will pay them any attention. The masters of mass murders will go home and sulk and stare at their ceiling for years at a time. The world will thank you for this. I see a Nobel Peace Prize in your future.

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LHH asks: What’s that crawling through your hair?

Dear LHH: That’s a great lyric for a song. Look what a great lyric and title, “Hey Children, What’s That Sound” did for Buffalo Springfield. He became a hit singer. Your lyric is also so so similar to Bob Dylan’s “the answer is blowing in the wind.” Mr. Dylan became incredibly successful. I’m confident that if you build a song around “What’s that crawling through your hair?” you too will become a superstar singer. Now the only fly in the ointment is that if you suffer from writer’s block and cannot think of additional lyrics. Should this happen to your, simply walk up to as many strangers as possible and ask them, “What’s that crawling through your hair?” I’m positive you’ll garner many rich and lengthy responses. In no time, you’ll have written your hit song. Go platinum, LHH!

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WK asks: I’ve submitted questions before but have never received a response. So what’s the point?

Dear WK: I have answered at least one of your questions. Please click on the following link, https://pauldelancey.com/2017/05/20/bad-advice-friday-1-may-20-2017/. Honestly, this question is almost enough to make me give you neutral words of wisdom, if not downright good advice. Be that as it may, you should never give up your quest for bad advice. Acting on bad advice provides the witnesses of your crazed activity with a welcome diversion from their boring existence. You know you haven’t been brightening peoples lives if you’ve never had to occasion to say, “Hey, watch me do this.” And if you haven’t brightened peoples lives, the terrorists win. My job is to provide you with a “watch me do this” activity, but I can only do so when you ask. Oh, and I blame missing any questions from you on plate tectonics.

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KGV asks: What is the proper etiquette when entertaining Russian spies in your office?

Dear KGV: I’m glad you used the phrase “proper etiquette” in your question. Good manners are always in style whether you’re holding the door open for your mother or entertaining spies bent on destroying your country’s democracy. Always be courteous. This means saying things like “thanks for coming,” “nice tie,” “what a beautiful dress,” “some caviar, perhaps,” and would you like some alone time in my communications room?” At no time should you broach unpleasant topics such as their invasion of the Ukraine or their support for that brutal dictator in Syria. That would be a faux pas. Word would get around or people would stop coming to your soirees. And wouldn’t that make you feel bad?

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– Paul De Lancey, The Comic Chef

My cookbook, Following Good Food Around the World, with its 180 wonderful recipes, my newest novel, Do Lutheran Hunks Eat Mushrooms, a hilarious apocalyptic thriller, and all my other books, are available on amazon.com.

Categories: bad advice Friday | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Bad Advice Friday, 5-12-17

Oh my gosh. It’s Friday already. Did you know there’s one every week? So, I shall once more be dispensing bad advice As usual, the advice will stupendously bad.
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JW asks: Should I really call my mom, or get her a gift or card, or visit her, or any of those other mother’s day things?

Dear JW: I think you should give the Mothers’ Day of Benedict Cummerbund. He’s handsome as anything, he’s rich, he has a career, what more could mother want? Ask Benadryl Cuminpatch if he’d like to spend the rest of his life with Mom. You’ll have to ask Benpicked Cucumber nicely as he is, as indeed all celebrities, used to people gushing up to him. If a lifetime commitment is too much, would he be willing to do whatever Mom wanted for one day. Should he complain of lost income from his movies, you’ll just have to rob banks until you’ve accumulated $100 million. Oh, and a grilled cheese sandwich. Make sure the cheese is gruyère. Celebrities have expenses tastes. This will be a Mothers’ Day Mom will never forget.

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SL Red, purple, or green?

Dear SL: The White House has been that uninspired white ever since its construction. I applaud your desire to spiff up the world’s most recognized building, to give it some character, to have some fun. Since, the color of the Republican party is often thought to be red, it would good to paint the White House red. I strongly suggest using spray paint for the job as the Secret Service is not going to give you much time to do a professional job with a roller and a paint brush. Indeed, they apt to be rather cross with you while hauling you away to ask such questions such as, “How did you get over the fence and so close to the White House without being spotted?” You’ll be able to answer with, “Why I went to the nearest circus and bought a cannon from the Human Cannonball. I then shot myself and my paint.” Maybe that will impress them. It’s worth a shot. (See what I did there?)

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JCA asks: Mayo, or Miracle Whip? Not for food, but for bedroom fun. (Asking for a friend).

Dear JCA: My natural inclination as a chef is to suggest mayonnaise as it is a purer food and less likely to be a chemical sh*tstorm. Indeed, try to get mayonnaise with all natural ingredients. Let’s keep our planet green. However in this case, spreadability and lubrication will be prized more than it would be in making a tuna sandwich, I suggest the scientific method. Have two bedroom romps with each volunter. Ask them if they preferred the mayonnaise experience or the one with Miracle WhipTM. You might need hundreds of volunteer partners before you become quite confident in your results. Should you have a spouse who balks at your scientific zeal, you might need to present your sweetheart with a nice box of chocolates and some lovely flowers when asking their permission. Oh, and make sure you always use fresh mayonnaise and Cool Whip. You don’t want to get false responses from your volunteers because you used something rancid. Check those expiration dates.

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KGV states: Thanks for the reminder. Being retired, I easily forget which day of the week we are celebrating.

Dear KGV: It is easy to forget the day of the week, isn’t it? Buy yourself a $600 cell phone, one that shows the day of the week. You don’t have to use the phone for anything. If opening the cell phone just to find the day of the week seems a bit weird, hire a butler. The butler will follow you around and will be pleased to tell what day it is no how many times you ask.

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LF asks: Why do ticks tick?

Dear LF: Not all ticks tick, only the explosive ones. Explosiveness was a defensive trait evolved by ticks during the Cretaceous period. Ticks of that time were forever getting trampled underfoot by tyrannosaurus rexes hot on the pursuit of a brontosaurus burger. A tick scout would raise the alarm whenever a T-rex approached. The explosive ticks would rush the killer dinosaur and explode themselves. The explosion would kill the tyrannosaurus, but the rest of the tick colony would be saved. Sure it would take a lot of ticks to fell a mighty Rex, but holy moly, there are a boatload of ticks. There’s a practical use to this as well. North Korea has not acting at all neighborly lately. To help the world, get on the plane to North Korea with a carry-on bag full of explosive ticks. Don’t worry about TSA, the ticks aren’t metallic and aren’t even on any list of prohibited items. The North Koreans, being a wary sort, might ask you what’s in your bag. They might even open your bag and ask, “What are those ticks doing?” You should say, “I don’t know. Do ticks talk?” (See what I did there?) Then head to the nearest military installation, the one where you can do the most damage. Tell the ticks that those North Korean missiles or fighter planes are T-Rexes. The ticks will blow up the entire installation or base. Oh I forgot, the North Korea security is a distrustful lot. Try to blend in as you make your way through the countryside.

– Paul De Lancey, The Comic Chef

My cookbook, Following Good Food Around the World, with its 180 wonderful recipes, my newest novel, Do Lutheran Hunks Eat Mushrooms, a hilarious apocalyptic thriller, and all my other books, are available on amazon.com.

Categories: bad advice Friday | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Bad Advice Friday, 4-21-17

Oh my gosh. It’s Friday. I forgot to ask for more good questions seeking bad advice. It’s Friday? Really? Again? Did anyone see this coming? Anyway, I shall be dispensing bad advice to the three people who were Friday ready. As usual, the advice will stupendously bad.

Dear NF:

The best way to serve chicken is in stew. Ladle the chicken stew into a FrisbeeTM turned upside down. Toss the Frisbee still upside down. (If you toss it upside down, the stew will fall out. Gravity and all that.) At any rate, a clumsy toss or a klutzy catch will, by the law of inertia, result in the stew flying out of the Frisbee and onto your guest. Repeated practice for the two of you is a must.

The worst way to serve chicken is as slave or indentured servant. This plain sucks. The hours stink, chickens are always hungry. You’ll work for chicken feed. (See what I did there?) And your neighbors will laugh at your horrible plight. “Why don’t you just walk away and go home?” Like it’s that easy. Once a chicken has established its dominant position in the pecking order (See what I did there again?) your morale will be broken to such an extent that flight will be impossible. You really do have to win the inevitable staring contest that happens whenever you meet a chicken. So, stay away from chickens until you have practiced with a cat.

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LF asks: Do I have to turn on an oven to bake?

Dear LF: First, try waiting. Patience is a virtue. If after three hours nothing has happened, it’s time for plan B. Take an axe. Chop down a tree with it. Chop the felled tree into kindling. (By the way, axes are really good for ending those festering domestic disputes. I mean who wants to go to bed angry every night? Be sure to wash those bloody sheets in cold water or else the blood will stain your sheets forever. If a job’s worth doing, it’s worth doing right.) Anyway, rub two sticks from your kindling together until you get a good flame going. Throw the burnings sticks and the rest of the kindling in the stove. Soon you’ll have a good flame going. The smoke from the burning wood will set off your smoke detector, so be sure to disable that. If your cake is soaked in rum, you’ll have a pyrotechnic display that you and your guests will never forget. And you will have done all this without turning on the oven. Well done!

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ME asks: What should I do next?

Dear ME: Join the French Foreign Legion. I met a young man years ago while bicycling in France. He was on his way to enlist in the Legion. He seemed like a nice guy. So there you go. Also, don’t forget France always sends the Foreign Legion first to any foreign conflict. It always get to fight. Many times, the Frenchmen in the French army never get to fight. This means they never get to visit foreign countries. So, they never get to get to sample exotic cuisine served to the Legion while on patrol. Indeed, the qorma lawand (chicken stew) of Afghanistan alone is worth several firefights. So join up and eat well.

– Paul De Lancey, The Comic Chef

My cookbook, Following Good Food Around the World, with its 180 wonderful recipes, my newest novel, Do Lutheran Hunks Eat Mushrooms, a hilarious apocalyptic thriller, and all my other books, are available on amazon.com.

Categories: bad advice | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Bad Advice Friday, 4-14-17

Today is once more Bad-Advice Friday. I shall be dispensing bad advice to all comers. The advice will stupendously bad.

PD asks: How do I get the cat to emulate a dog? He never meows anyway.

Dear PD: Male dogs like to lick their balls. Paint your cat’s nuts with liquid catnip. (The cat might resist for a bit.) Then feline instincts will take over and your cat will lick that catnip right off. Once the first step to dogdom is broken, adoption of other doggie traits will surely follow.

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LHH asks: When will my ship come in?

Dear LHH: Sad to say, you can’t count on a ship to dock at your town and have the captain come down the gangway and present you with the keys to the vessel. This is particularly so, if you live miles inland. Anyway, head to the port and buy the first cruise ship that takes your fancy. This will be your ship! Now mind you, cruise ships cost hundreds of millions, so saving is a must. You might find that you don’t have enough saved up. In this case, you’ll have to forgo such things as: lodging, clothes, and food. Indeed, you might to do without everything for decades, but don’t give up.. Stay true to your dream.

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ABG asks: What if I don’t want to get out of the pool?

Dear ABG: Who does? It takes a while to get used to the water and then it’s so cold when you get out. You need help. Simply hire a rodeo cowboy and a pilot with a helicopter. The cowboy lassoes you and the pilot ascends, lifting you out of the pool. You might even worry how the wind is blowing you repeatedly close to your house. But let’s not forget you’re out of the pool. Now it’s time for an after-pool cocktail.

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MA asks: Is there a way to find the Father of All Bombs?

Dear MA: Why yes, there is. First, go to your nearest air force base and ask to be let in. Ask politely or they won’t wave you through. Manners are always important. Should they ask why, tell the truth. You can’t imagine how many times spies, agent provocateurs (quite possibly spelled correctly), and terrorists lie to these guards. Your honesty will be just the fresh air needed to melt their suspicious hearts. Second, head to the shed where they keep the really big bombs. You are looking for the Father of All Big Bombs after all. Take that sledgehammer out of your vehicle and starting banging the heck of the bombs. (Note, while bombs are notoriously temperamental and apt to go off when hit by even the humble hammer, you can’t count on it. Do your research and find the bomb’s “E” spot, or “Explosive spot.) Anyway, hit those bombs as hard as you can with your sledgehammer. The bomb that flings your body the farthest will be the Father of All Bombs.

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PH asks: Mother a weed, father a weed … do you expect the daughter to be a saffron root?

Dear PH: No, no, you can’t, not even if you hire the finest genetic splicers. The best thing to do is glue saffron all over her. (Note, she might complain about that, particularly if she is a teenager.) Anyway, saffron is expensive, about $200 an ounce. Covering her all over with saffron might cost a half-million dollars. If you have that kind of money, your problem is solved. However, even if the most diligent searching for coins under the sofa cushions leaves you short, head to saffron-rich Tibet. Simply fly to India, hike across the Himalayan mountains, avoid the border guards, pick hundreds of pounds of saffron threads from the saffron flowers, carry your prize back across the Himalayas, and fly home.

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PH asks: If a man said to you, ‘A dog carried away your ear’ would you go after the dog or search first for your ear?

Dear PH: Oh my gosh, you’re told a dog carried away your ear and you want to waste precious time searching for it on your head? Do you wish to give the dog time to eat it, develop a taste for human flesh, and start a canine/culinary murder spree? Also, if you can retrieve that ear quickly you can get it sewn back own. Hurry, man, hurry. Chase after the nearest dog you see and pry open its mouth. Don’t let the fact that it’s a doberman or a pit bull scare you off. It’s your ear. If the dog happens not to have your ear in its mouth, apologize to its owner as manners are always important. Then take off after the next dog and so on. Good luck! I look forward to hearing from you.

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JW asks: Why?

Dear JW: I assume you are asking “Why can’t I find my car keys?” as this is by far the most asked why question. The short answer is that your car are not where you’re looking and vice versa. Clearly, you need more copies. I suggest one hundred car keys. Leave them all over your house, your place of work, and any stores you frequent. Be sure to leave details of your car such as make, year, color, and license plate on it. It would be embarrassing to come back to your local burger joint and pick a set of keys from the counter only to get to your cars and find you grabbed a set of keys belonging to someone else. Then your have to go back inside the joint and put those keys down, right in front of everyone. You look around, getting redder and redder. Finally, you find your 83rd set of car keys right where you were eating. By this time, everyone is laughing and you find yourself wishing you could merge your molecules into the wall. Don’t let this happen put your car’s info on every set of car keys. Now you know.

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WK asks: Did it ever say how many seashells Sally sold down by the sea shore?

Dear WK: As I learned the nursery rhyme while in school in Australia, the next line is, “But she shall sell her shells no more.” She’s not selling anymore. All of a sudden, we don’t know her name. She hasn’t shown up at beach since, despite the high demand for her designer sea shells from wealthy tourists. We can only conclude that she is in the witness protection program for testifying about seashore murder she saw. Which is unfortunate, as she is quite rich and is quite the looker. I recommend a door-to-door search across the country for her.

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DZ asks: I can’t stop the damned sports news updates from showing up on my Facebook trending topics, no matter how many times I dismiss them. It’s the only news I actually WANT Facebook to curate for me, and they won’t do it. Help me.

Dear DZ: You language is probably listed as American English with Facebook. America is sports mad. We have sports all year round. You’re not going to be able to avoid sports in your trending topics as long as your FB page is in American English. You will have to switch your page to an obscure language, one that is spoken by very few people. I recommend Chamicuro. Although it is spoken throughout the world, the total numbers of speakers is estimated at eight. How many professional sports teams could those speakers have? Yep, switch your Facebook page to Chamicuro and you’ll never see sports trending again.

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SF asks: If I ask a question = will you answer ?

Dear SF: ˙ǝɔıʌpɐ pɐq ǝʌıƃ oʇ ǝʌol ı ‘ǝsɹnoɔ ɟo ‘sǝʎ

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– Paul De Lancey, The Comic Chef

My cookbook, Following Good Food Around the World, with its 180 wonderful recipes, my newest novel, Do Lutheran Hunks Eat Mushrooms, a hilarious apocalyptic thriller, and all my other books, are available on amazon.com.

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Bad Advice Friday, 3-31-17

Today is once more Bad-Advice Friday. I shall be dispensing bad advice to all comers. The advice will stupendously bad.

RO asks: Why do I need a trip to Hawaii?

Dear RO: Your life is stressful. Destressify your life or you’ll flip out and murder someone. Although a good lawyer should be able to get you off with manslaughter, you’ll do serious time in jail, which will cost the tax payers a lot. The state will have divert funds from hiring teachers at their universities in order to lock you up and feed your for ten-to-twenty years. The state doesn’t want to do that, you don’t want to rot in jail, and the victim doesn’t want to die. There is an opportunity for a deal. Simply walk into the governor’s and ask money for a calming trip to Hawaii if she doesn’t want to be offed. I guarantee you that within seconds she and her staff will be discussing your request with the utmost seriousness.

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RSD asks:

What is your recipe for greatest sleep ever? What tricks of the sleep trade do you have to share?

Dear RSD:

No matter hard you try, getting a good night’s sleep the first night is impossible. To heck with that noise, go for a good night’s rest the second night. To ensure a solid slumber on the second night, you simply must be completely wired with caffeine the first night. Go early to your neighborhood café or coffeehouse and chain drink coffee. Ask for a ThermosTM full of espresso. Take a walk with the Thermos until its empty. Come back for a refill. Go for another walk. Repeat, you’ll be amazed how much exercise your legs and your heart will be getting. And your mind, my gosh, it will be active all night long reviewing your life. When the next night finally comes, you’ll be so exhausted that you will sleep the sleep of the just. Happy dreams!

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DH asks: How do I keep my dog from eating butter? I go to make cookies and it’s gone.

Dear DH: The dog keeps eating your butter because it tastes good. However, being the dog whisperer that I am, I know that no dog will eat anything that turns its mouth into the fiery inferno of Hell and pooping into a burning river of lava. So, I suggest buying habañero flavored butter. If you can’t find that at your supermarket, you’ll need to inject pureed habañero into the butter. (Be sure to wash your hands before touching your genitals, though.) Then leave the butter out. If the dogs senses something’s amiss, allay its fear by eating the butter first. The dog will follow your lead. Now, the two of you will scream, or bark, at the top of your lungs to be released from life. Of course, the dog will never eat butter again and you will never leave the butter out again. But you will have bonded forever with your pet. All ends well.
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JAS aks: If happy little bluebirds fly beyond the rainbow, why, oh why can’t I?

Dear JAS: Bluebirds can’t fly beyond the rainbow. The leprechauns won’t allow it. They have an anti-happy-little-bluebird force field deployed. The leprechauns don’t want to share their pots-o-gold with gold-bricking bluebirds. The only way for a blue bird to penetrate the force field is to be shot out of a cannon with the same force that NASA uses to launch rockets. It’s astounding that the wee birds go through unscathed through the force field using that method. One would think they’d be annihilated. NASA and the Pentagon are thinking the same thing. They’d be very grateful if you could discover the blue birds’ secret technology. So, buy yourself a cannon put yourself in it and fire away. Good luck! Don’t forget to let NASA and the Pentagon know about technological breakthroughs should you should survive.
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KM How do I get my cat to watch television? She does a lot of other cute things, so why not that, too?

Dear KM: Buy a can of tuna. Buy catnip. Smear tuna and catnip all over your TV screen. Your cat will be sitting in front of the TV forever.

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JR asks: What’s the best starter for a charcoal grill: gasoline or diesel?

Dear JR: Those charcoal briquets are absolutely flame proof. Rural firemen stack them to form impenetrable firewalls out there in the hills. But you want to use charcoal anyway, so the challenge is to use them this one time while curing you of the desire to ever use them again. Put the inert charcoal briquets in the grill. Add gelignite to the grill. Gelignite is safe; I’m reasonably sure it doesn’t go off accidently. Activate gelignite; hitting it with a hammer or pointing a flame thrower at it ought to do the trick. The resulting explosion will scatter your briquets for miles and miles in every direction making it impossible to find them. Oh, you’ll likely to be flung for quite a distance as well. Be sure to have your cell phone with you. It’s doubtful you’ll be able to walk and you’ll be wanting a friend to drive you the ER. However, you’ll never want to go through the frustration of trying ignite charcoal again. I mean, who needs that?

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ABG asks: Red wine or white wine with breakfast? asking for a friend.

Dear ABG: Red wine goes with red food such as ham. White wine goes with white food such as egg whites. If you have something like bacon, however, with its white and red stripes, you’ll have to have a glass of white wine for each white, fatty stripe and a glass of red white for each red stripe. Why? Something in red wine overpowers something bad in red foods and similarly for white wine. (I read something to this effect on a bulletin board in the Med School library in college some decades ago.) So drink up. It’s possible you’ll get too drunk to drive. This is all to the good. It’s not safe to drive anymore. They’re all animals out there. Omg, I’d be remiss if I didn’t say what wine to drink with bacon that’s been in the fridge so long that it’s turning grey. Grey bacon should, of course, be paired with a good Grey Riesling.

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JCA asks: If I see a chicken crossing the road, should I follow?

Dear JCA: First check to see if the road is actually a Mobius strip. If so, following the chicken will simply get you to your starting point. (Of course, you’ll be upside down on the strip. You will fall on your head if you’re not wearing anti-grav boots. Is the chicken wearing anti-grav boots? If not, you’re probably safe from the perils of a Mobius strip.)

Is the chicken heavily armed? If so, it’s probably going into combat. Are you heavily armed as well? If you are, it’s okay to follow. Be sure to bring anti-septic lotions with you though, as chickens can walk under barbed-wire fences while you can’t. It’s this attention to detail that gets us through life.

– Paul De Lancey, The Comic Chef

My cookbook, Following Good Food Around the World, with its 180 wonderful recipes, my newest novel, Do Lutheran Hunks Eat Mushrooms, a hilarious apocalyptic thriller, and all my other books, are available on amazon.com.

Categories: bad advice | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Bad Advice Friday, 3-10-17

Today is once more Bad-Advice Friday. I shall be dispensing bad advice to all comers. The advice will stupendously bad.

MA asks: This has been bothering me…Is it true that cannibals won’t eat clowns because they taste funny?

Dear MA: It’s partially true. All cannibals, and especially gourmet cannibals, are food connoisseurs. Any dish that is not prepared correctly will taste funny to them. For example ribs, and every human body has them, just cry out to be barbecued and with the highest quality barbecue sauce. And oh my gosh, pair your meal with the correct wine. White meat goes with white wine and dark meat goes with red wine. However, it is not true that cannibals don’t like clowns. Indeed, cannibals also like actors and are avid fans of dinner theater. Go to a show with them, they really know how to have a good time.

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MH asks: How do you deal with that school parent who is “that mom” as she brags about her son’s grades and how well he punches kids in the stomach during gym class that always wants you and your kid to hang out with them, even giving your kid a kiss on the forehead and ordering her to sit next to him on the bus ride home?

Dear MH: Clearly words are working anymore. You need to take drastic actions. You need to get head lice for your daughter. Have your daughter put her head on the oafish boy’s shoulder. Many of her head lice will seek out the green pasture of the boy’s head and stampede there. Now getting head lice is getting harder and harder in America due to those pesky hygiene campaigns. In this case, go on a cruise, they’re fun, and head to a beach on your last port of call. Don’t give your daughter a towel. Have her put her head directly on the lice-infested beach. That ought to do it. And if the doltish boy is bald, feed your daughter lutefisk, the most evil food in the world, for breakfast. She’ll puke on the lout for sure. The kid and the mom will never want to bother you and your daughter ever again. Oh, I almost forgot. Head lice are distracting. His grades will suffer.

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JP asks: what do you do when your next door neighbors who just moved has a boyfriend who lets his kids ride round in a kids motorized vehicle that its hood is painted as a confederate flag. A flat bottom boat a giant boxed in trailer and a speed boat, 2 hammocsk and s..t lying over year oh and a home made brick firepit. Help redneck invasion call out the troops.
Dear JP: You can’t let yourself be intimidated. Go to the army surplus store and buy yourself a small tank. (Like the guy in San Diego did some years ago.) Be sure to get one with tires. Tanks with treads aren’t road compliant. Highway Patrol will give a ticket. Take your tank to your neighbors house and yell, “This is for Fort Sumter.” The clods will either back down or rush for their guns. You now have two choices. One, fire an armor piercing round into their pickup truck and machine gun their home. However, if you are anti-guns, may I suggest driving your tank over their pickup truck and smashing into their home. What stops a thirty-ton tank nothing? Their truck will be flatter than a pancake and their home will be spectacularly ventilated. When the police come by to investigate, simply say, “But office, they never invited me over for barbecue.” The law will understand.

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RAP asks: How do I get rid of my addiction for creating cookbooks?

Dear RAP: You are making the classic mistake of making good food, of making food with a nice aroma. You want to share your wonderful creations with the world. Stop it. Stop it, I say. Start making lutefisk, hasenpfeffer, and Limburger cheese. You’ll never want to write another cookbook. Indeed, you’ll probably never feel the need to cook again. So, it’s a good thing that Taco BellTM has a $5 box meal special going on.

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SP asks: Dear Abby De Lancey: I have a gorjus neighbor who has begun to sunbathe in the nude. The fence between our yards isn’t high enough to block the view, if I go to the top floor and stand on my toes. My question is, do you know of any telescope repair shops in my neighborhood that will accept a rush order? Thanks in advance for your bad advice.

Dear SP: Aww, thanking me in advance, what good manners! Anyway, why the high-tech solution? Why the shyness? Simply place your ladder on the fence and clamber over with a jar of pickles. She’ll appreciate your directness. Women hate wall flowers. Say to her, “These pickles suck. Speaking of sucking pickles, how about getting to know me better?” I guarantee an immediate response.

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SMC asks: What about my “naughty” problems?

Dear SMC: Make money off you “naughty” problems! Get your own reality show. Now you’ll have to have a gimmick to make your show stand out from all those other naughty-problem reality shows. May I suggest constant ad-lib haikus to accompany whatever you’re doing? T.V. listeners will eat it up.

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BRW sends us this delightful photo.

Dear BRW: What a clever cat you have, able to think cogently and bilingual at least. Everyone likes clever cats. Take your cat to your boss’s house. He’ll impressed as all get out when your cat imparts the above advice to his dog. Career mobility will be assured.

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DZ asks: Sometimes people send me a text saying only to give them a call. How do I make them send the information to me in a text like a normal person?

Dear DZ: Give them beans and tell them to under no circumstance to stuff the beans in their ears. Naturally their contrary nature will win out and they will stuff the beans in their ears. (I know this will work. Decades ago, a bright mind came to my father’s elementary school and told all the kids not to stick beans in their ears. The children, who up to then had never considered the idea, went home and pushed beans in their ears.) Anyway, the ear will swell up around the bean–pinto beans are the best–so tightly that they won’t be able to hear. They will be forced to text. Now the beans can be removed by a doctor, so the bean isn’t permanent, but the memories will be. They’ll never ask you to call again. And don’t stick beans in your ears, DZ.

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RSD asks: If i want to beat the best chess player in time and history (Michail Tal or Bobby Fischer) Do I need to go to heaven or hell or what/where/how? 🙂 I need advice, you being the world chef I thought I came to the right place as everyone needs to eat.

Dear RSD: The best chess players are not dead. Their deaths were faked by the CIA. Indeed they work for the CIA. You can find them at Area 51. Just drive up to the main gate and tell the guard that you want to play chess with Tal and Fisher. You’ll be amazed how quickly the guard will wave you in. May you bring your best game with you.

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TLR asks: I’ve been feeling the urge to get another tattoo, Paul. What should I get?

Dear TLR: Either a tattoo of all the recurring items you need to get from the supermarket, but always forget. I mean how many times have you made out a grocery list but forgot to bring it. Or a list of your family’s and friends’ phone numbers. Of course, once you tattoo their names and numbers on your arms, you will need to speak rather forcefully about the dire consequences of changing their phone number.

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– Paul De Lancey, The Comic Chef

My cookbook, Following Good Food Around the World, with its 180 wonderful recipes, my newest novel, Do Lutheran Hunks Eat Mushrooms, a hilarious apocalyptic thriller, and all my other books, are available on amazon.com.

Categories: bad advice | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

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