Dear Scabby: I’m a metal dude from Mikwaukee who’s moving to NYC but I can’t afford to live in Greenpoint, where else can I find my fellow metal dudes living? -METALDUDE

Dear Metal Dude: Cities are just an amalgamation of the sitcoms and serial killers they produce. Moving from the birthplace of ‘Laverne and Shirley’ and Jeffrey Dahmer to the city that gave us ‘Taxi’ and the Son of Sam is a respectable but expensive decision. Compared to most neighborhoods, Greenpoint has an especially great metal scene mainly due to it’s icy Eastern European influences and also because the benzene-tainted tap water has made most residents averse to sunlight and happiness.

Proximity to a park is a major selling point for renters in New York, so why not take it a step further and live in the park. McGolrick Park is steps from venues like Saint Vitus, Warsaw, Brooklyn Bazaar and Syzmon’s Pediatric Dentistry, which transitions into a venue on weekends. The other option is moving to the outskirts of Bushwick where their take on metal is listening to AC/DC in a rockabilly bar named Hootenanny Tavern with your shirt off as you pick sawdust out of a chalice of PBR.

Dear Scabby: What’s the difference between black metal and death metal? -NOTAPOSER

Dear Not a Poser: The subtle discernment of these two subgenera is best described through a series of personified examples. At a party, Death Metal would be chugging beers and huffing nitrous oxide while Black Metal would be found skulking about the woods sipping on a glass of tepid milk mixed with vodka or arsenic. If threatened, Death Metal would attack you on the spot, whereas Black Metal would devise a months-long revenge plot ending in the crucifixion of your family pet.

As zodiac signs Black Metal would be a Scorpio or Capricorn while Death Metal would be a more extroverted tone-deaf sign, like an Taurus or Sagittarius. Lyrically, a death metal band would be yelling about a maggot infestation inside the brain of a forgotten nursing home patient or ejaculting into a placenta, whilst a black metal band would be more likely to read an ancient latin prayer backwards, thus causing the audience members dicks to shrivel up, detach and fall down their pant legs. I trust this helps, as it couldn’t possibly have been made more clear.

Dear Scabby: I’m a middle school student who’s into metal but I’m actually kind of well-accepted by my classmates, no one is scared of me and I have no trouble finding people to sit with at lunch. My dad used to tell me stories about how the kids in his class used to pass around rumors that he would rape stray cats and stuff, but my peers just follow me on Instagram. How can I become more of an outcast like my metal predecessors? -MISFITSIN

Dear MisFits In: Being considered evil used to mean something in this country, like that you performed a human sacrifice or ran for office, but now every dime-store satanist with a stack of tarot cards thinks putting ‘666’ in their instagram handle and reading ten pages of an Aleister Crowley book on the toilet makes them ruler of the underworld. Following in the footsteps of a cat rapist is no easy task, but there’s got to be a middle ground between being liked by your peers and sodomizing the neighborhood strays.

A metal group is only as successful as it’s death toll, so you’ll want to incite fear by starting a band in which one or more of the members die within the first year. This could be as easy as finding a terminally ill drummer or discovering the bassist is allergic to shellfish. Unfortunately, I doubt you have a murderous bone in your entire poser body. Enjoy living out the rest of your cursed existence as a functioning, well-liked member of society and putting the kibosh on your family’s cat-fucking legacy.

Scabby is the self-proclaimed mother of the Richmond, VA hardcore scene (and also a number of illegitimate children who have been trying to get in touch with her via ancestry.com.) She came this close to getting her associates degree in psychology from an online program that was later shut down for reasons we cannot disclose due to an ongoing investigation. Originally named Gabby F., she started going by Scabby after an untreated bed bugs “situation” in her first squat made national news, and is assumed to be anywhere between 50 and 100 years old. She looks forward to answering your most pressing questions and encourages people to push each other mentally, emotionally, and literally. You can contact Scabby at scabby@thehardtimes.net.