Dear Scabby: Weed makes me shit. Drinking expensive beer also makes me shit. Should I give up? -OUT OF TP WITH THE WORLD
Dear Out of TP With the World: Craft beers are for suckers and for people that like poached eggs, which to me are one in the same. Drinking a Miller High Life out of a jack-ó-lantern last Halloween was the closest I ever came to tasting one of those pumpkin-spiced-pomegranate-infused atrocities from “Hickory Lane” or whatever euphemistic title alcohol reps used to make it sound like the beer was brewed on a farm upstate and not in someone’s garage. If I wanted to get full serving of fruits and vegetables in with my bender, I’d take the gummy vitamins that have been in my closet since 2003.
I would strongly advise you to opt out of any activity that makes you shit your pants — advice marathon runners and Chipotle customers have chosen to ignore, but that’s where adult diapers come in. If you’re looking for a drug that won’t make you shit your pants, I have a drug that won’t make you shit at all. Opiates are nature’s antidiarrheals, and have helped me through multiple painful recoveries after closing my arm in a car door in 2016, and again in the winter of 2017, spring of 2018, and last Thursday.
Dear Scabby: I’ve been with my boyfriend about 7 months (we were friends for a year before that) and he’s an indispensable part of my life. Don’t get me wrong, he’s amazing, 100% supportive of everything I do, love him to bits, etc. But lately, I’ve been having actual difficulty remembering what we did before we got together. All we do is grab food and make out, and argue when plans to do anything else fall flat. I don’t think we’re on the same page anymore (I’m not sure if we were on the same page to begin with.) -IN DESPERATE NEED OF A BOOKMARK
Dear In Desperate Need of a Bookmark: No one has made out with me in well over 24 months because I suffer from a chronic canker core condition doctors have called “unprecedented,” “pretty gross,” and “easily curable” if only I agreed to cut back on cigarettes and salt and vinegar chips, but unfortunately, I’m morally opposed to radical treatment methods. If the two of you are content to make out and order Seamless for the remainder of your relationship, it sounds like you are on the same page, albeit the page of an unreadable book that ends up being used as a window prop in a teachers’ lounge.
Seven months is a little early to be falling madly in lull with each other, and if you’re not careful you could end up fighting over what to name your newest air plant and scheduling sex before your one year anniversary. Spice things up by taking a trip somewhere romantic, like Napa Valley or Wildwood, New Jersey, or try floating the idea of a threesome, which in my experience usually dissolves into more of a twosome until you gradually make the transition from participant to spectator.
Dear Scabby: I’ll be going off to college a year ahead of all my friends but I’ll only be twenty minutes away from them, so we’ll still do a lot together. I wanted to take advantage of this fresh start to cut a lot of people out of my life, but some people I want to cut off are in my circle of friends. How can I get away with picking and choosing my friends without losing all of them? -GHOSTING GRADUATE
Dear Ghosting Graduate: I’ve heard that good friendships are like fine wine because they get better with age, but I wouldn’t know since Wild Irish Rose only comes in bottles big enough to last 20 minutes. I like to keep my circle tight (non-existent almost) because I can’t stand clinginess. I compulsively check my phone just to make sure people are respecting my privacy and no one is bothering me with texts to hang out on my birthday or to see how I’m doing after surgery. When it comes to friendship, I choose quality over quantity, which is why my group consists mainly of me and my longtime internet friend SmarterChild73.
People say that you can’t pick your family, but that’s not entirely true. They neglect to mention that you also can’t pick your friends or romantic partners. Age, upbringing, appearance and other deciding factors have corralled us like sheep into the appropriate categories, meaning life is an arranged marriage and free will is a joke, which are two things I tell myself on a daily basis so that I can forfeit responsibility for my actions and wade through my remaining days helplessly like a bandaid caught in an eternal lazy river.
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].