Yoga Instructor #6
– Paul De Lancey, The Comic Chef, Ph.D.
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.
I need something to pep up my life and I haven’t had much to do lately what with near retirement and the pandemic crimping my forays into the world of people. So, I have resolved to become a runway model. This goal might be seem farfetched. “Paul,” people will say, “runway models are women, young, super thin, and take heroin to stay super thin. You’re an overweight man, on Social Security, and your only drug is regular soda, which, if anything, adds to your weight.”
A bit harsh, but true. However, I would retort, “There are millions upon millions of overweight, retired men who wear clothes. Have you ever seen masses of feral, overweight masses of older, nude men in public?”
No, they have not. I shall give these sartorially forgotten men a voice. I will be their clothing icon. Keep tuned to my quest.
** In training for my new career. **
Dear readers, I would cheer me up to hear from you. Where are you from? What do you like to do? What’s your favorite local food? What would you like me to blog about? Thanks.
Paul De Lancey, The Comic Chef, Ph.D.
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.
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.
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.
Oh my gosh, I was sick and missed Friday. Whatever healthy time I was spent making macaroni and cheese and watch Number Two Son get a second degree black belt. Anyway, yesterday was Friday. And today is Saturday. Sometimes, it’s good advice to get all the facts on paper before starting to think. But not here. Even though my advice is one day late, I shall once more be dispensing stupendously bad advice.
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KM asks: Nature vs. nurture: Was Donald Trump born a narcissistic, racist idiot (in which case he can’t help himself), or did he have to work to develop those traits? Has anyone researched his ancestors?
Dear KM: Why not ask him directly? Invite him over for a barbecue. Now, he has expensive tastes, so you’ll have to buy the very best grill to impress him. Of course, you’ll have to get top-of-the-line accessories to go along with your grill, such as five-acre patio and a fifty-room mansion. You will, to be sure, be shelling out millions upon millions to set up this event, but Mr. Trump will come over and you will find out what makes him tick.
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LF asks: Why can’t I make myself invisible?
Dear LF: You can! You can! Get a ten-foot high by twenty-foot long canvas. Spray paint it bright red. All over. Spray paint yourself bright red. All over. Always stand in front of the bright red canvas. It’ll be red on red. No one will ever see you with all that red. However, and this is import, never ever step out from the red canvas. People will be able to spot you in an instant. You will need to hire at least four burly to move the canvas at the same rate you walk. Of course, should you require motorized transportation, you and your canvas will need to stand in the back of a flat-bed truck.
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WK asks: When invited to a dinner party is it ok to ask the hostess what color napkins she’ll be using so I can wear a matching shirt?
Dear WK: OMG! OMG! Of course not, this is a faux pas of the first magnitude. Do you want to
never again be invited to a party will colored napkins? Fortunately, the answer to this social dilemma is dazzlingly simple. Wear every possible color of shirt, one shirt on top of each other. This will require entering your host’s house wearing twenty shirts. When the hosts why so many shirts, tell her you’re afraid of catching a chill and that it takes you two weeks to get over a cold. Take a quick glance at the napkins. Point in the other direction and yell as loud as you can, “Look! Halley’s Comet.” While people are looking for the comet, removes your shirts until you get to the one with the right color. This will leave you with a lot of discarded shirts. Quickly roll them up into balls and start juggling. The host and her guests will appreciate you thoughtful entertainment and will think nothing when you put your “equipment” in the coat room.
Now, it’s important to remember you will still be wearing nine or ten shirts. You’ll will be quite hot. Look at the large shrimp display in the center of the table. Say, “My, the shrimp arrangement is stunning, beautiful, what artistry! Mrs Host, you have outdone yourself.” While the host and the guest take in the wondrous arrangement, pour as many glasses of ice water inside your innermost shirt. You’ll be fine.
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LHH asks: Which goes first: the chicken, or the egg?
Dear LHH: It’s a frustrating question, isn’t it? There’s no used asking the chickens; they’re tight lipped. (See, what I did there?) No, you’ll have to conduct extensive research. 100,000,000 eggs and chickens ought to be sufficient. Won’t buying that many eggs and chickens cost a lot? It sure will! At least a billion dollars. How do you get that much cash? Simple, build a nuclear missile and launch pad in your garage. Now, there is a dearth of self-help books when it comes to at-home construction of such weapons, so you will have to rely heavily on trial and error. Should you survive, and you need to be an optimist if you’re ever going to amount to anything, start blackmailing the world with a nuclear holocaust until you get your billion. Kim Jong Un, the leader of North Korea has been blackmailing the world with his nukes. He hasn’t received a penny in blackmail money, but bless his heart, he keeps trying. You’ve got to admire his never say die spirit.
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KM asks: Is it polite to give a Trump supporter a Bronx cheer?
Dear KM: Only if you asked politely first. Manners are always in style. Ask the Trump supporter, “Excuse sir, or ma’am, nice day isn’t? I was wondering, if it’s all the same to you, may I give you a Bronx cheer? If he says yes, it just might be the start of a wonderful friendship as in the final scene in Casablanca with Humphrey Bogart and Claude Rains. However, if the oaf breaks you nose in reply, then you will have taken the high road in manners and you can feel proud of yourself until you pass out. Either way, you win.
– 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.
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.
Oh my gosh. There was a Friday this week. So, I shall once more be dispensing bad advice As usual, the advice will stupendously bad. Sorry, it’s a day late. I was whooping it up on my birthday. So, you had an extra day to do things right.
SF asks: If I pour boiling water on my face to help me wake up in the morning, will the power outlet I’ve plugged my toe into electrocute me?
Dear SF: The scientific method is a must. Try plugging your toe into an outlet. If that act alone electrocutes you then you’ll know, if only for a brief moment. If however, nothing happens then try the boiling water on your face. Should you survive electrocution after this second step, take heart in the knowledge you won’t need to take a shower. The germs and bacteria won’t survive the hot deluge.
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LHH asks: I wanna know: Who’ll stop the rain?
Dear LHH: Congress can, but they won’t. They’re too busy with health care, fund raising, and vacations to tackle this problem head on. Ask your congressman to support the building of mile-wide umbrellas. Or as more promising research suggests, get them to provide seed money for the building of five-mile-high fans that will blow rain from areas that don’t need it to ones that do. Call your representative today. They love to get citizen input.
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RTC asks: I want to go to a viewing and funeral of a family member. It is 8 hours driving round trip. I can barely stay awake 2 hours in a moving car. Should I stay home or should I go? No one else is able to go with me and share the driving.
Dear RTC: This is a toughie. Family duties push you to go, but you don’t want to crash and die. I mean how many people want to go to back-to-back funerals. No, the thing to do is ask your relatives to catapult the deceased to your home. Pay your respects. Catapult the body back as I strongly suspect the dearly departed will be buried where all the mourners are. Iimportant, don’t forget to send a condolences card! Manners are always in style. There is a small silver lining in all this. Enclose your condolences card with the deceased before catapulting back. A penny saved is a penny earned.
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MA asks: “I am” is reported to be the shortest sentence in the English language. Could it be “I do” is the longest? Please advise…
Dear MA: Clearly, your problem is that your irresistible. So they say yes to you. But relationships are hard; hard as cheese that’s been left out for two weeks and perhaps just as moldy. You need to cut down on your attractivetudinous. Experiment. Grow dreadlocks. Some women hate them. If that special someone adores that hair style, consider wearing a tutu. Don’t give up. Keep trying. If however, she hopelessly dotes on you, you’ll have to rub lutefisk all over your body. The stench will drive away even the most ardent lover. There is a chance, however, the odor might be so bad that you’ll tear your own head off. That’s okay; this act also solves the problem of your overpowering desirability.
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WK asks: Where have all the flowers gone? Long time passing.
Dear WK: They’re in Greenland. What with global warming, conditions there are now favorable for flowers. Not many flower munching bunnies there either. So for decades now, flowers have been slowly migrating to Greenland. We simply been too busy, what with our hectic lifestyle, to notice. Go to your local travel agent to book a Greenland tour. Do it today. Herds of feral flowers are sights that will make your soul sing.
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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.
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.
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.
“I see,” said the blind man as he picked up his hammer and saw.
– anonymous
“I hear,” said the deaf man as he gathered his flock and heard.
– Phil Anderer
“I feel,” said the numb haberdasher as he picked up his cloth and felt.
– Ann Dover Michigan
“I taste,” said the taste-challenged policeman as he pointed he weapon and tazed.
– Amos Keeto
“I smell,” said the smell-challenged fisherman as he pulled in his cod and smelt.
– Barb Ell
“Able was I ere I saw Elba,”
– Napoleon
“Sacre bleu, then why didn’t you win at Waterloo?”
– Private Escargot, veteran of Waterloo,
“How much wood can a woodchuck chuck
“If a woodchuck could chuck wood?”
– anonymous
“How much ground could a ground hog grind
“If a ground hog could grind ground?”
– Al Bondigas
“How much fly could a fly paper fly?
“If a fly paper could fly paper?”
– Anne Thrax
“How much melon could a watermelon water
“If a watermelon could water melons?”
– Mel A. Tonin
“How much dog could a hot dog heat
“If a hot dog could heat dogs?”
– Deb U. Tant
“How much Sun could a sunscreen screen
“If a sunscreen could screen Sun?”
– Amber Waves
– 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.
Paul De Lancey's Blog 