Unwanted Advice

A vintage Dear Abby from 2005:

A Mondo guy played by a douche

Dear Abby,

I have a mondo problem. I think my mom doesn’t like me anymore. When I fell off my bike head-first without a helmet, she said I was “overdramatic.”

I have fallen down 18 feet of stairs four times, and my dad was the only one who helped me. Sometimes my mom is really nice, but I am a little scared of her.

I would tell her myself, but I am 12 and still very sensitive. Please help.

Scared in Nashville

Jesus Christ kid, it only took this letter for me not to like you. I can only imagine what putting up with your bitching for 12 years is like. Here’s what you need to do. First and foremost: grow up. I don’t mean to say that your immature. I mean that no one likes 12-year-olds unless they’re a single malt. You’re all obnoxious, self-centered, spoiled brats who have it way too easy. Some kids become tolerable around 16 or 17, but most really need to hit their 21st birthday and start drinking before they’re any fun be around.

Also, be aware that you are not Corey Feldman and this is not 1985, so “mondo” should not be in your vocabulary. You’re from Nashville, not SoCal.  You don’t sound like a surfer. You sound like a douche.

Next, learn how to walk down the fucking stairs.  There may be books at the library or YouTube videos.  I don’t really know.  I could navigate steps since before I can remember because I am a normal person.

On second thought, I’m calling bullshit  on this crap about the stairs. First off, 18 feet? Do you have any idea how high that is? It’s two fucking stories of continuous hurt at least. It would take forever to get to the bottom. You not only went back for seconds, you went back four Goddamned times. If you had a brain in your head, you’d figure that after the second time, you should probably take the elevator.

Meet Your new best friend

Speaking of the brain in your head, if you can’t navigate something as simple as a set of stairs, what the Jesus makes you think that you can ride a bicycle without a helmet? At the very least you should be wearing a helmet, elbow pads, knee pads, a mouth guard, hockey pads, and a little flashing light so they could find you in the dark when you inevitably run your bicycle into a ditch. In fact, you might want to look into a tricycle, though I’m pretty sure you’d manage to turn that into a death trap as well so stick to walking on flat level surfaces.

I’m siding with your mom on this one. Her word was “over-dramatic”, my word is “apt.” Either you’ll outgrow what has to be the most awkwardly awkward phase I never heard of, or natural selection will do its job and you’ll be put out of your misery. Either way, eventually your mom  will like you again – it’s really bad form to hate your dead kid.