Dear Scabby: My friend in his mid-20’s has been living in his parents’ shed and subsisting off of death metal, frozen food from Costco, cheap wine, and Bud Light Platinum for months. I’m getting worried that he might be on a slippery slope to being one of those mid-30’s fat black metal dudes. What can I do to save him? -CONCERNED IN CLARKSDALE
Dear Concerned in Clarksdale: “Reaching your potential” is a myth created by a political campaign and directed at kids 10+ to further America’s capitalist agenda and increase competition among fellow man. If drinking wine, eating frozen pizza and listening to death metal all day on your parents’ dime isn’t peak potential, I don’t know what is.
The description you gave of your friend is uncanny to one of my exes. If he answers to the name Rat Sweat and is missing one of his big toes, it’s probably him. If so, please tell him I want my Mayhem shirt back along with the better half of my twenties. In the meantime, relax. There are worse things than living in a shed and subsisting off of a Garfield-esk diet. Be happy he’s not a guy running through the park in toe sneakers reiterating leash laws to strangers.
Some people excuse their self-destructive behaviors as requisites for being part of a certain scene or upholding a carefully curated image, but the truth is self-sabotage is much more complex than that and usually stems from genetics and/or childhood trauma. You can’t change him, but you can suggest changes. I’d first suggest switching from Bud Light Platinum to a beverage that will keep him warmer in the shed, like tea or hard liquor.
Dear Scabby: I have learned of top-secret government secrets recently and I need assistance in delivering this to the world. It details the truth behind the new world order, and if it gets out that I know this information I will surely be killed. I can feel them closing in on me, how should I get this out to the public without being killed in my sleep. Wait, someone just broke through my window oh god scabby please he—
Dear Recently Missing Person: A bad secret keeper with an affinity for conspiracies, attention and run-on sentences… What’s your podcast called? I’ve been looking for new stations after Joe Rogan turned my life around by suggesting I switch out my antidepressants for a daily dose of silkworms. Chemically, I’m still imbalanced, but the insects are a great distraction from my mood swings and I’ve already named them all, because it’s always nice to have someone to talk to.
I don’t want to sound too contemporary, but the best way to get information out to a large number of people in a small amount of time is through zines and flyers. It’s foolproof. If you need any assistance with the production, be sure to go Uptown Color print shop near VCU, but don’t mention my name or you’ll be forcibly removed and possibly charged double.
Your abrupt sign off leads me to believe you were either kidnapped or developed a debilitating hand cramp, In which case I’ve issued a Scabby Alert, which is a lot like an Amber Alert but much more effective. Assuming you come out of this alive, let me say that while I admire your humanitarian efforts, your attempts at whistleblowing will be silenced by our “democracy” before you can even open your mouth.
Dear Scabby: Any report on the rumor that the reason Waluigi isn’t in smash is due to him not being circumcised? -AN ILLETIRATE FUCK (PS, RIP the super best friends. They turned me onto your stuff.)
(Maybe “Dear Super Smash Bris” instead of Dear “Illetirate” Fuck: Without elaborating too much, I’ll have you know that Waluigi is uncircumcised and an amazing lover despite the sex talk devolving into a rant about Luigi’s driving and how “Nice guys always finish last.” The details of that night remain hazy, but I vividly remember that the transformation of his genitalia looked like his penis was giving birth to itself.
You might be wondering how I went from playing Super Smash Bros to Smashing a Super Smash Bro. It all happened years ago when I took Ambien to contract the negative effects of eating too much of a peyote cactus (which I later found out was just a regular cactus, which I guess just amounts to another $15 I’ll never get back). I started to play a video game to calm my nerves and before I knew it, I was IN the video game.
Waluigi and I don’t talk anymore. Maybe I wasn’t good enough for him, or maybe it’s because he’s a fictional anti-hero who materialized as a result of psychotropic drugs and my frail grasp on reality. Rumor has it, he was let go for selling stolen car parts, but I suspect body discrimination and outdated beliefs on circumcision to be the real cause, in which case Pikachu and Donkey Kong should also be axed.
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 [email protected].