Thursday, August 7, 2014

Aliens and Assholes

Oh, humans, how pathetic you are to ask for advice. How incredibly more pathetic it is to ask a rabbit for advice. But, I guess you’ve got to do something when not a single self-help book gets the job done, and you’ve read them all. That’s where I come in to save the day. Not necessarily your day, but someone’s…

Dear Angry Rabbit: I have a friend that talks about conspiracies all the time. He talks about how there is a conspiracy by secret organizations to rule the world, that these organizations are in contact with inter-dimensional aliens, that school shootings are staged incidents, that ancient knowledge is suppressed so that doctors can give us mind control drugs; there seems to be no end to his insane ideas. He even posts videos on Youtube about these conspiracies. I can’t take it anymore. How do I talk some sense into him before he winds up in the looney bin? – Signed, Bullshit Detected

Dear Bullshit Detected: Whoa! Finally, someone I can sympathize with! I hear ya. I, too, am flabbergasted by the capacity of human beings to construct wild ass stories out of a failure to reason properly. There’s only one way to see if you can talk any sense into your friend: Ask him (‘cause it’s always a guy) “How do you know?” What information does he have that leads him to his conclusions? Now, if you say you’ve heard the same information and have come to a different conclusion, ask him how this can be. If he allows for the possibility that you can be correct in your assessment, there’s hope. Your friend can be reasoned with. But if he says something like you’ve become too indoctrinated by The Man to see clearly or he ignores your points while trying to get you to support his, then there is no hope. While his insanity may cost you a friendship, you don’t have to worry about him winding up in a looney bin. Everyone believes stupid shit all day long every day. We only lock people up when they become a danger to themselves or others. Fortunately for your friend but unfortunately for society, merely being stupid isn’t considered dangerous, probably because other stupid people are judging how dangerous stupidity actually is. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to trying to find intelligent life out there because it sure ain’t around here.

Dear Angry Rabbit: I may be accused of being sexist, but after spending over 20 years around health care nursing stations and hospital break rooms, I continue to be mystified and appalled by the way my female colleagues routinely violate the confidentiality of others. I'm referring to personal information regarding friends and co-workers, not their patients. Gossip about extramarital affairs, financial woes and substance abuse; there seems to be no subject that is off limits. And frequently the statements I hear make it clear that the so-called facts being traded like some kind of currency are no more than secondhand innuendo. Away from work, I spend lots of time with groups of male friends, but I simply don't experience the same cavalier treatment of others' personal information. Is this a gender-based phenomenon? Is it possible to get them to stop gossiping? – Signed, Quackers

Dear Quackers: Is it possible to get your female coworkers to stop gossiping? Is it possible to get your male friends to start gossiping? I find it interesting that you appear to work in a science-based environment, but you’re asking an advice columnist if gossiping is a gender-based phenomenon. Forget asking a biologist or sociologist – that would be too hard! So, science isn’t your strong point; let’s move on. Two things: First, is the gossiping hurting you personally? Unless you screwed one of the nurses and you’re afraid that your failure to satisfy is making the rounds, then nothing they are saying actually affects YOU. Believe something affects you when it doesn’t may be a time honored tradition among humans, but that doesn’t make it right. Now onto number two: Don’t you think all the women know they all gossip amongst themselves so that confidentiality is never really breached since they all know the information is going to get around? If they want to talk about these things, fine, it’s on them when and if it ever comes around to bite one of them in the ass. If you’re still bothered by the gossiping – knowing YOU don’t do anything to annoy anyone – you could go to you HR department and argue that the nurses are creating a hostile work environment. Of course, that will get the nurses gossiping about what a huge asshole you are, so complaining is a double-edged sword. Please kill yourself with it.

Sunday, July 13, 2014

Run For The Hills

Welcome back! That Angry Rabbit here once again to open the inbox in an attempt to break the everlasting cycle of human idiocy. No doubt I will fail miserably since trying to fight human idiocy is like holding out your hands to hold back a tsunami. Yet, still I try, meaning I too am an idiot, or I was court ordered to give advice so as to reduce my sentence for that bar fight I got into earlier this year. I mean, what the hell was I supposed to do? The bar wench tried to charge me for eight beers instead of just the seven I had. Bitches…

Dear Angry Rabbit: Last week my wife and I purchased three pairs of sneakers at a store. The service was poor and the experience was frustrating. As we were leaving I noticed the cashier only charged us for two pairs of sneakers. I chose not to say anything about it. In the car I told my wife what had happened, and she said, "Well, the store made an error, the service was poor and I guess that means I got a pair of free sneakers." Even though I sort of agreed with her (and I didn't go back to the store to say anything), this issue has been nagging at me. I feel as though I "morally" did the wrong thing. Should I go back to the store and pay for the sneakers? – Signed, Smelly Socks

Dear Smelly Socks: Oh, someone is worry a lot about behaving morally, aren’t they? Look, Smelly Socks, you feel guilty about the situation so if you ask me, you’ve already suffered enough. How much is the store suffering? That’s what I want to know. Look at it this way, look at how immorally the store behaved in your story: The service was poor but on top of that the mark-up on something like sneakers is practically sinful (they’re made for pennies on the dollar). The staff is either incompetent or untrained at using a cash register. The staff that is competent is surely underpaid. Using my moral math calculator, you come out on top of that equation. If you don’t believe me, please refer to the nearest Bible, turn to the Old Testament and read where it says an eye for an eye and a pair of sneakers for shitty service. You’ve got God on your side, Smelly Socks. Going back to the store to pay for the sneakers would be the work of the Devil. Now put some free shoes on and go run in traffic.

Dear Angry Rabbit: My boyfriend just won't respond to me emotionally. I can't get him to open up about his feelings and he is not sensitive to my needs. He makes decisions that affect me all by himself. I never get consulted. Then when I mention a problem, he immediately tells me how to solve it and tries to end the conversation. If I try to continue the discussion, he says he already told me what to do and walks away. Can you give me some hints on how to get through to him? – Signed, Carly the Carpet

Dear Carly the Carpet: Um, ground control to Major Tom…forget about getting through to your boyfriend, what the hell gets through to you? So he doesn’t respond to you emotionally; I’m assuming he does respond to you physically? If that’s so, you’re really nothing more than a pocket pussy that unfortunately for him, talks. You’ve got exactly one option in this scenario: Withhold sex until you get what you want, for him to talk about his feelings, which by-the-way he doesn’t have. He’s got you by the panties, Carly; he’s not doing anything you want and getting all of what he wants, which is off. Since he doesn’t give a crap about you as a person, withholding sex is the only way he’ll even consider pretending to like you for who you are in order to get sex (provided he’s not a rapist). The only possible alternative is, as the only other good advice columnist besides myself Dan Savage would say, “Dump the mother fucker already.” If you’re afraid you won’t find another boyfriend, consider the fact that someone was in fact stupid enough to be with you at least once. Finding a human boyfriend is easy as long as you’re willing to put out. Just don’t let him talk you into pulling out, ‘cause that shit don’t work. On the other hand, at least he’d be talking to you which is more than you’ve got going now.

If you’d like some advice from me, That Angry Rabbit, send your letters via email to Letters/Emails of Idiocy that I respond to will have the privilege of being transmitted across the universe, ultimately causing aliens to come and kill all of us. Until that time, hasta la vista, baby.

Sunday, June 22, 2014

Hungering for Unbaked Cake

Oh, humanity, you may me laugh, you make me cry. Your collective ability to negate all your few great accomplishments with a flood of ridiculously simple questions is unparalleled in all the universe. But don’t take my word for it. Let’s get right to the mailbag…

Dear Angry Rabbit: I was watching the Hunger Games movie and was wondering if it was true. Like, did it happen to Nazi’s after WWII?

Dear Hungering for Knowledge: I’m not sure what you’re asking. Are you asking if a teenaged femi-Nazi named Katniss (note the ‘SS’ in her name) was forced to kill other Nazis’ for the amusement of the victorious Allies of WWII or are you asking if participating in gladiatorial death matches in general was the Nazis’ punishment for losing WWII because you’re concerned Nazis were the sympathetic party involved in WWII? Or, are you asking if The Hunger Games is simply a metaphor for how Germany was treated after WWII? Seeing how unlikely it is that you know what a metaphor is, my answer to you would be that the movie The Hunger Games is based upon a book by the same name which is a work of fiction which is based upon a Japanese movie called Battle Royale which is also fiction which itself is based upon an earlier fictional movie called The Running Man which is based upon a book by the same name which is also a work of fiction. The key word here is ‘fiction.’ There are no stupid questions, just stupid people.

Dear Angry Rabbit: Is it possible to make toast in the microwave? I’m at work and really craving toast because I am pregnant.

Dear Walking Time-bomb: Based upon your question to me, I gather you never asked yourself a more important question, “Should I reproduce?” Meanwhile, I’d like to ask you who hired you. I want to thank them for setting a new low standard when it comes to the people they employ. Can you make toast in the microwave? When was the last time you put something in the microwave and it came out crispy? Do you realize in the time it took you to ask your question you could have wasted a piece of bread to find out for yourself? You obviously can’t cook, so, what the hell do you plan to feed your forthcoming child, McDonalds?! Please give your child a fighting chance and put it up for adoption. Please.

Dear Angry Rabbit: If Batman’s parents are died, then how was he born? It doesn’t make sense how died parents can have children.

Dear Batshit Stupid: I’ll tell you what doesn’t make sense, your English! Okay, okay, maybe English isn’t your first language. Hell, it isn’t even the first language of anyone in the United States anymore, so I’ll let that slide. But let’s think about your question for a teeny, tiny second. Let’s suppose Batman’s parents died after he was born. Do you see where I’m going with this, kid? Because if not, nothing I say is going to help. My advice? Stop reading comic books and for the love of all that is holy stay in school. The rest of the world will thank you.

Dear Angry Rabbit: I tried to make a cake for my little sister but it came out of the oven burnt. How do I unbake a cake?

Dear Baked: Of course you can unbake a cake. All you have to do is unheat an oven to -375 degrees and put the cake back in the oven for -40 minutes. Then, unmix the wet ingredients from the dry ingredients, put the eggs back in their shells, and sell the cake mix back to the supermarket you got it from. Simple enough, I know. Be sure to tune in next week when I tell you how to unbirth yourself.

If you’d like some advice from me, That Angry Rabbit, send your letters via email to Letters/Stupid Questions that I respond to will have the privilege of being laughed at by the only rabbit that matters. Carrot on my wayward son.