Since real life doctors are expensive, sometimes it pays to take the advice of more ‘alternative’ practices. Bring your problems, not your apples, and the Dilemma Doctor will prescribe you some terrible advice. Whether you take it or not is up to you, but always know the Doctor has your best interests at heart, even if he does hold a questionable MD.
Dear Doctor, I’ve been struck down with all sorts of illnesses recently, and I suspect it has something to do with the amount of cheap liquor I consume. I know how bad the cheap stuff is for you, but even with my work and allowance I can’t afford the higher end booze. I feel like I’m destroying my liver, but my circle of friends are hardcore drinkers and I don’t want to give up the lit life. Are there any life hacks that could help me?
Getting on the piss is the most important thing in life and you should never let that go. Better an alcoholic and flying than sober and crying. However, it is true that $8 wines and $20 spirits are a little rough, but it could easily be due to the sugar or other industrial ingredients. Besides, Top shelf booze isn’t much better. They’re both poisonous, so why bother forking out your dosh for some bullshit label? I think it’s safe to say that you can blame your liver quiver on the hardcore drinking itself, not the type. Take my advice, the next time you worry about this sort of thing just wash those thoughts away with more booze. Your generation’s future is fucked anyway, so there’s no point in experiencing it while not in a drunken stupor.
Dear Doctor, I started uni this year, alongside a close-knit group of buddies. We went to high school together, had League of Legends championships, Anime Marathons, and Live Action Role Playing sleepovers. But now that I’m 18, away from home, and socialising so much more, I’ve come across another group of friends. They’re the sort of party-goers that I kinda wished I had the chance to be a part of when I was younger. By befriending them I have a chance to go to parties, get drunk, and maybe even get a girlfriend. None of them are into any of the things that my buddies are into, and the groups will never mix. Do I stick with my old friends, or do I pursue the social life I’ve always dreamed of?
I’m going to answer your question in the form of a moral story, which was first told by some lad with a beard a couple thousand years ago. A father had two sons. The younger son asks his father for his share of the inheritance early, to which the father obliged. The younger son then fucks off and spends his days getting lit until it runs out, just as a famine hits the land. The son works in a pig sty, desperately hungry, until he decides ‘fuck this’ and returns home. He apologizes to his father, who embraces him and decides to hold a feast. The older son is super minced about this, and accuses his father of favouritism. The father replies that the younger son has returned, he was dead, and is alive again. He was lost, and is found. The moral of the story is that going around telling parables to people will get you nailed to a tree. Oh, and you’re not responsible for your high school lads, get out there and have some fun.
Dear Doctor, My landlord always stops off at random and sneaks food out of our fridge. I live with a culinary student and two chefs so there’s always lots of good food lying around. We are royally fucked off but he’s been very clear that if we take him to the council he’ll end all our leases. Plus, he owns most of the properties in the area, and also has a lot of sway with other landlords. How do we get him back?
Count me in, I despise landlords more than I despise more successful older brothers. Landlords are sneaky little cockroaches, especially since you can’t kill them by stepping on them. There are two ways we could approach this. The first option is blackmail. It’ll be difficult since landlords don’t have feelings, but there are possible weaknesses. I have a theory that landlords draw their power from the property itself, and when the property is damaged, so are they. It would explain why they turn up for flat inspections right when the state of the flat is at its worst peak. Replacing all the blutack holding your posters up with thumbtacks is effective, like a thorn in their side. Cultivating deadly fungus behind the wardrobe is another good one, which can be done with a toasted sandwich maker (they’re impossible to clean, and the combination of bread and cheese stains forms a potent shroomfest). Oh and spills on the carpet under the couch. I’m talking pasta sauce, booze, sex juice, you name it. All of this is easily concealed, so when they arrive to investigate the source of their discomfort, you won’t rack up a fine. Let them know that the torture will end if they promise to cease seizing your feed. The second option is much simpler and involves teaching him a lesson that will guarantee he never swishes your dishes again. There are many different ingredients you can insert into your cooking to give it bad taste, such as rum and raisin ice cream, chia seeds, or Game of Thrones merchandise. In this case however, we need to go a step further. Laxatives are the oldest trick in the book, but you know what works even better? Anti-Laxatives. A shitload, literally. Explosive liquid shit is one thing, but having a football sized rock in your bowels that you cannot pass unless you’re a gape porn star is much, much worse. So take your pick, either method works, but don’t let the lando push you around. Keep fighting the good fight, Kimi!
Dear Doctor, My brother and I are both doing a three-year degree, currently in our second year, and it has always been our plan to finish our degrees at the same time and then travel overseas to France and start living there. We’ve prepared for it for years, we’ve both had French lessons, and saved up money, and we have to go at the same time after we graduate since our parents are going to sell the house and move to Australia next year. Enter me, a colossal fuck up. I’ve failed one of my papers, and they don’t offer it in Semester 2, Summer School, or Distance, and I need it to complete my degree. But I can’t be responsible for fucking everything up, I can’t stay behind to finish it, and I need it before we go to France. Any ideas?
Well you’ve fucked yourself into a corner, but all corners are escapable if you know parkour. Do you know parkour, Casey? If yes, bounce your ass outta there and triple backflip into the XTREME GRAVITY French Parkour Championship. If not, then you may have to ditch the degree and enrol in a similar one alongside a part time job in the land of croissants (is that what people call it, or am I being blatantly racist?). It’s a tough gig, I admit that, but you’re not the only one that this happens to. Many students are forced to abandon their degrees, sometimes temporary, sometimes not, due to failing a paper and not being able to finish their degree in the allotted time that they have for whatever reason. Most of them end up unemployed and homeless, turning to prostitution and petty theft. They become drug addicts, and quickly devolve into a hopelessly depressed state of mind as they think about the opportunities they wasted, and their bleak existence until eventually they’re chucked in prison or a cemetery. Nah I’m kidding, not finishing a degree isn’t the end of the world, there’s so much available that it’s almost as if university is a scam created by rich old men.