Dear Dr. Marzipan,

Is it better to listen to good music or bad music while reading a bad book? What about while watching bad TV? What activity best combines with Yngwie Malmsteen?

Thank you,

Joey

Dear Joey,

Let us answer your questions one by one:

Is it better to listen to good music or bad music while reading a bad book?

I don't recommend reading bad books no matter what music is playing. Finding sufficient time to read period is difficult enough without wasting the precious time you do find on bad writing.

Similarly, there is so much bad music out there, and almost no way to avoid it all, what with it blasting out of cars, shops, theaters, televisions, and cell phones, that if you must spend time listening to it, do so with the intent of a good laugh or as an educational experience. Purposefully exposing yourself to an ambient periphery of bad music is on a par with intentionally inhaling secondhand smoke. You didn't light the cigarette, your lips aren't wrapped around its butt, but you are still likely to contract the associated diseases. Who wants snatches of bad music looping inside their head with only themselves to blame?

What about while watching bad TV?

Virtually all television is improved by having the sound turned all of the way down. Turn off the screen as a second step and witness further improvement. Toss it out the window onto the garbage truck and television reaches a zenith of perfection. Why anyone would perch themselves in front of such a cockamamie device I'll never know. However, good music can improve bad TV. This is a fact. Good music can improve almost anything. I once suffered from a marriage that was greatly improved by strong and steady doses of Erik Satie.

What activity best combines with Yngwie Malmsteen?

Slashing your wrists.

Have you a question for Dr. Marzipan?

Dear Dr. Marzipan,

I AM FRIGHTENED BY my cat engorging himself with those new fangled rubber wristbands that everyone wears so its hard to keep him from doing so . I even find them floating around the house !

what should I do?

Ms.Pickle pants - WA

Dear Ms Pickle Pants,

I get more questions about pet care. Maybe my wife is right and I should shave my ears? You'd think the name was Moreau and not Marzipan . . .

Okay, your cat is "engorging" himself with the newest fad. Sounds like a teenager to me. Does he also have an ipod? Oy.

By "engorging" I take it you mean he is eating the things. This is disturbing. Rubber bracelets - and all other prots - should be kept from pets, babies, teenagers -any creature helpless with ignorance.

As the caretaker of your pet, it is your repsonsibility to keep it safe and healthy. Regulate where it goes so that it will have minimum chance to encounter and eat anything unhealthy.

If it does consume such an item, and you don't see it drop out the other end fairly quickly, or if the animal starts acting farshlepteh krenk, take it to the vet and have it pumped out.

Finally, if you have these items "floating around the house", I'd suggest that you, or whatever schlub is reponsible for allowing them to do so, get off their lazy butts and clean up a bit. God knows what else you are so casually allowing to "float" around your house.

Have you a question for Dr. Marzipan?

Dear Dr. Marzipan,

Last year my son bought a pallet of Sudafed from Costco. He said he needed it for a science experiment he was setting up in the basement. Now he says lots of other students are interested in his experient and will pay him to help them, but he can't buy enough Sudafed because there's a shortage in the US. He says he will buy me a Porsche if I let him drive our van to Mexico every weekend to get more Sudafed. At first I wasn't sure, because the experiment was so smelly the first time, but now I'm thinking I could get used to the smell.

So now I need your advice--what model Porsche should I get?

signed, Zippy

Dear Zippy,

Congratulate your son for his entreprenurial skills for me, won't you? It is crystal clear that his methods will get him - and perhaps even you - far in this life.

Unfortunately, what I know about cars you could put into a hat, stir, pull out, and still not have a winner. To my schlubby ears, "Porsche" sounds like the part of a house that could use a welcome mat and perhaps a nice swing for those hot summer afternoons and evenings.

In any case, I would advise buying a model that can be resold for an amount consistant with the going rate of a good defense attorney - or a ticket out of the country.

Have you a question for Dr. Marzipan?

Dear Dr. Marzipan,

What's the difference between marzipan and almond paste?

signed, BeanBoy

Dear BeanBoy,

What - now I'm a chef? Okay, fine:

Almond paste is just that: almonds that have been smooshed into a paste with some sugar and water added. Maybe a little juice, maybe not - who knows? Almond paste is not terribly exciting but if your teeth are in a cup perhaps it is the way to go?

Marzipan, on the other hand, is a confection containing, egg whites, sugar, and a third ingredient you may have already guessed: almond paste.

Typically you will see this cloying glop molded and colored to resemble something other than it is, say a fireplug or a carp. How this makes it any more appetizing I will never understand but there you have it.

So -what have we learned?

Almond Paste = Almonds, sugar, water, elbow grease

Marzipan = more than Almond Paste

Dear Dr. Marzipan,

Did you know Old Dirty Bastard was dead? I just found out seven minutes ago.

- Old Dirty Zuckuss

Dear Old Dirty Zuckuss,

Would it surprise you to know that I was aware of this questionable person's early demise?

I read it on the internet during the weekend.

Ah, the internet: endless source of information both sublime and indispensable.

Here's the real question: why should anyone, beyond his friend's and family, of course, carre if this silly schmuck is dead?

Ol' Dirty Bastard, indeed. I'm surprised he made it out of diapers, much less into the limelight . . .

Have you a question for Dr. Marzipan?

Dear Dr. Marzipan,

Who let the dogs out?

Chillin' in the LBC

Dear Chillin' in the LBC,

Is that heinous excuse of a song still getting airplay?

Your 'question' reminds me of the venerable: "What is the sound of one hand clapping?" query.

Well, I have an answer to the latter -it is the amount of approbation you deserve for your efforts on producing the former.

Oy, for this I get out of bed each morning?

Have you a question for Dr. Marzipan?

Dear Dr. Marzipan,

If nothing else has been made clear in this last election, it's that the divisions in this great country of ours run deep. Can anything be done to heal this rift? Will anything be done?

Sincerely,

Blue in a Sea of Red

Dear Blue in a Sea of Red,

Has someone seen me fondling a glass ball and going to the racetrack? What are all these questions? What do I know from the future?

Listen, what's the difference between yesterday's and tomorrow's worries? I can tell you -nothing. Anxiety is a motivator. Use it to improve your life, not just as a way make your dentist rich through gnashing.

Will anything be done? Of course it will: blood will be spilt and love will be made just like before and ever on until God pulls the cord out.

Me? I'm getting some ice cream just like my doctor tells me not to. I like that new chocolate sauce you can pour on top that hardens in an instant. The key isn't to pour it on like a chazzer but to do little dribbles, eat them, and then do more. A little at a time. Very tasty.

Have you a question for Dr. Marzipan?

Dear Dr. Marzipan,

What do you see in the four years to come?

Will there be light? Does the 'earth' has hope?

Sincerely,

tbdx fan

Dear tbdx fan,

What do I see in four years to come?

My joints getting stiffer and the hair in my ears and nose thicker at a rate diametric to the thinning of it on my head.

-Will there be light?

Light what? Comedy? Cream Cheese? Feh, I hope not.

Certainly there will be light. Go open your refrigerator, what do you see? If it's dark in there go get a replacement bulb -but make sure you take the original with you to the hardware store as they can be tricky to replace.

-Does the earth have hope?

Who am I? God, that I should know such things . . . ?

Have you a question for Dr. Marzipan?

Dear Dr. Marzipan,

I am expecting my third child at the end of this month. Although you think this might be good news, my wife and I haven't had sex in over four years. This is very peculiar to me. What should I do?

Respectfully,

Fo Sheezy in the Heezy

Dear Fo Sheezy in the Heezy,

Oy. Listen to that name. You know what that name means to me? I'll tell you: "A cow don't make ham".

Someday you may understand that.

No, forget it. I take it back.

Anyway, using that name as a basis for supposition, I propose two possibilities for the mystery bun:

1. In an attempt to gain a greater tan on your soul, you became so farshnoshket on malt liquor and cannabis that you have no recollection of shtuping your wife.

2. In an attempt to gain a greater tan on your soul, you became so farshnoshket on malt liquor and cannabis that you have no recollection of your disgraceful 'homies' shtuping your wife.

The great moment of revelation will come when the child is born along with your pride or shame.

Mazel tov!

Have you a question for Dr. Marzipan?

Dear Dr. Marzipan,

I just decided to stay up all night watching CNN's election coverage because it would guarantee that I will be awake to go to school at 9 AM, and if I went to sleep at two o'clock AM I might not be able to drag myself out of bed that early. Am I a normal college student, or is this a problem I need to fix?

Dear No Name,

What is normal? Everybody's so concerned about normal yet no one can put his or her finger on what normal is.

I suspect most people would regard normal as one of two things: themselves when they are happy or a person or group of people of whom they are envious -don't worry about being normal.

Worry about the fact that you are still a kid in school. You should be reveling in your senses -drinking too much, shtupping the organism of your choice, cow-tipping, whatever it is you crazy college students do these days instead of sleeping. There will be time enough to stay up too late watching things on TV you have no control over later.

Oy, what's the world coming to?

Have you a question for Dr. Marzipan?

Dear Dr. Marzipan,

Today is November 2nd and I am still undecided.

George Bush seems okay but looks like a weasel.

John Kerry looks okay but seems like a weasel.

Ralph Nader seems and looks like a weasel.

What should I do? Flip a coin? Consult an astrologer? Just not vote? Help!

signed, Moderate to the Max

Dear Moderate to the Max,

Have you ever had an opinion about anything?

You might recognize an opinion as a thing -a feeling- that motivates you in a certain direction; have you ever actually moved forward in your life? Without assistance, I mean?

Have you asked your mother whom to vote for? Certainly she is somewhere nearby you couldn't possibly live without. You are still living at home, right?

Here's my advice: you like sitting on the fence so much, I'd suggest staying there. Get comfortable.

Thinking about things such as who should make the decisions that will affect how you live is too much to ask. Just relax, everything will be okay. Soon they will come and take you to the nice, nice showers.

Have you a question for Dr. Marzipan?

Dear Dr. Marzipan,

I collect children's toys, and when it came to finding places to keep them, I always took the utilitarian path of fitting them into whatever spaces were left available after organizing my more important possessions - standing at the end of a half-full bookshelf, on top of my stereo system or TV, or just stuck in a box in the closet if there was no more room outside. However, I've recently noticed that toy robots and monsters and such are taking up more and more room, to such a degree that I think I may be approaching the point where my toys are given first priority in dividing up the space in my home, and the books and records and actually useful appliances are fit into the spaces that they toys don't take up. What should I do?

-Buried In A Pile of Plastic Men

Dear Buried In A Pile of Plastic Men,

What should you do, what should you do?

Obviously these toys are worth more to you than everything else in your life. I suggest giving them the house and moving into your car -assuming you haven't sold it to finance your addiction.

Have you a question for Dr. Marzipan?

Dear Dr. Marzipan,

Is it possible to love one's pets TOO much?

Signed,

Daddy Doggie

Dear Daddy Doggie,

There is nothing quite as precious as the unquestioning love one can receive from a pet, and so it is difficult to overdo the love one gives in return.

Those who dote on their animals are sometimes chided or secretly derided by those around them who are not similarly blessed with such a faithful companion, yet one can often note in this ridicule a hint of sad jealousy.

That being said, as with anything, it is possible to go too far. Some pet owners try too hard to fill the void they feel in their lives with their pets, and this can be unhealthy for the animal, the owner -or both.

Sharing your meals with a pet is more often than not unwise, and clothing them in sweaters and the like -not to mention Halloween costumery- is not only uncomfortable for the animal but potentially hazardous.

Needless to say, if you're slipping it to your pet on occasion, your notion of love has most definitely gone right out the window.

Not only is this an unsanitary practice, it can prove harmful or even fatal to the smaller animals such as parakeets, goldfish, and tarantulas.

Even if your pet appears physically compatible, you really should restrain yourself. No matter how they whine and paw and roll their eyes, they really aren't enjoying it.

And sharing that post-coital cigarette isn't such a hot idea, either.

Have you a question for Dr. Marzipan?

Dear Dr. Marzipan,

Me and my mother have always been close, but lately, I find myself wanting to cut the apron strings. I know mom just wants the best for me, but she gets in the way of every new relationship I try to start. How can I ask her to lighten up on me a bit, without hurting her feelings? I just want the freedom to stay out a little later, see who I want, and maybe my own bed to sleep in. That shouldn't be too much to ask, should it?

Signed,

Momma's Boy

Dear Momma's Boy,

What, you don't love your mother? This is the person who carried you around in her boych for nine months and this is the appreciation she gets?

Okay, okay: so she's a bit clingy, a bit pushy. She still wants to hold your hand when you cross the street, wipe your toches, and breast-feed. This can get annoying. I should know (may she rest in peace).

My advice is to use reverse psychology. She wants to be with you 24-7? Let her -or, better yet, make her.

Force her to come along with you on all night drinking binges. Bring her along to the truck show, the cockfight, the porno shop. Should you get lucky, have her watch as you shtup. Maybe ask for a little technical advice during.

A little of this and she should soon be writing me with a complaint!

If this doesn't work and you still find yourself uncomfortably cramped, well, there are other methods to consider.

Surely this mother of yours is elderly, a bit unsteady on her feet? She follows you everywhere, correct?

Perhaps it is time to visit some towers or long, precarious, stone staircases?

Have you a question for Dr. Marzipan?

Dr. Marzipan!

DR. MARZIPAN!

DR. MARZIPAN!!!

What? I should respond to this rabble? I should think not.

Does somebody have a question? -if not I am going back to my soup.

Have you a question for Dr. Marzipan?

Dear Dr. Marzipan,

Tonight, while on the phone with a friend in Jersey, I felt something fly out of my throat and land on my hand. It was white, like a small curd of cheese and, when I sniffed it, it smelled exactly like the baddest of bad breath. Even after I set it down my hands continued to smell just like really bad breath. What was it, where did it come from and will I live?

signed, Somewhat Disgusting in WA

Dear Somewhat Disgusting in WA,

Boy, am I glad this is a virtual conversation.

What many people don't realize is that there is a source, beyond the vague notion of mouth and throat, for bad breath. In your case I'd say it is your soul that is rotting and, during the conversation, a small part of it broke off and was projected out of your body by your petty exclamations.

This phenomenon of your soul crumbling is not terribly rare and can be caused by any number of things -in your case speaking on the phone with someone in New Jersey is most likely to blame.

As to your health: little bits of your soul being worn away is nothing to be too concerned about. Thousands of people all around you -celebrities, lawyers, politicians, priests, den mothers, etc- walk around all the time with partially or totally disintegrated souls and it barely effects their level of health or enjoyment.

The fact that your soul is rotting and you are doomed to hell, on the other hand, should cause some worry. I suggest Scope and fervent, white-knuckled prayer.

Have you a question for Dr. Marzipan?

Dear Dr. Marzipan,

Where did you go to medical school? I'm considering becoming a doctor and I'd like to know more about the education required.

-A Fan of Blood and Knives

Dear A Fan of Blood and Knives,

Where I went to school and what admissions office would be willing to chuckle over your application are, I assure you, two different things.

Considering becoming a doctor is like considering becoming sentient -either you are or you aren't and no amount of consideration will change the facts.

Education is secondary and mainly used to separate the men from the goys.

Have you a question for Dr. Marzipan?

Dear Dr. Marzipan,

I am a single thirtysomething male. I have a friend who is also a single thirtysomething male. Whenever he meets female friends of mine, afterwards he pesters me for details about whether they're single, if I can "broker a deal" for him for a date, etc. This happens whether or not I have "dibs". I wouldn't exactly call him "needy", but its' definitely "wanty". This is getting annoying, though. What do I do about this?

- Hard Up In Jersey

Dear Hard Up In Jersey,

To me your life sounds like a Seinfeld rerun. Which one are you -the tall, self-important yuppy or are you the bald, ineffective putz? Wait, I know: you're the wacky neighbor.

So: who are you to be hogging all the girls? What? You got this one, you got that one -you can't share? A true friend might do something to help a guy out. Maybe let him have a little sloppy-seconds now and again, set him up with a sister, a cousin -hey, what's your mother doing tonight?

Okay, so maybe your friend could do his own hunting for once. Maybe he needs to realize you're not gay (and that's something else to consider -does he know you're not gay? Does anyone? Me? Even I'm starting to wonder . . . )

At the very least he should horn in on you when your back is turned, like any decent friend would do.

Really, the solution to your problem is obvious: time for a knuckle-sandwich.

If he's bigger than you, sucker punch him or use a sap.

Smaller and fragile? Push him down and step on his glasses. It's time to teach the little bastard some respect.

And hey, when you're done? Throw the guy a bone, wouldja? Have a heart, we can't all be as sexy as Dr. Marzipan.

Have you a question for Dr. Marzipan?

Dear Dr. Marzipan,

Why does it hurt when I pee?

Signed,

Angry little man

Dear Angry little man,

Who are you, Ike Willis?

This affliction you suffer from is, I suspect, not that which many readers may assume: You did not get it from the toilet seat, a door knob, nor do you seem savvy enough to have contracted anything from even the loosest schloochie.

No, my suspicion is that you're uptight. Too much coffee or Pixie sticks, probably.

The next time you take a squirt, don't clamp down so with your mitts -the shvantz (especially in this case) is a delicate little instrument that does not require the wrestling technique of the Crocodile Hunter to keep under control.

And for god's sakes, watch those nails!

Trust me, treat it like the petseleh that it is and said pain will, if you'll pardon the expression, peter off shortly.

Have you a question for Dr. Marzipan?

Dear Dr. Marzipan,

My plecosthemus won't come out during the daytime. I've tried various arrangements of lighting and furniture in order to throw a shadow across the tank, in the hopes of convincing him that it's the night-time, where he'd be more comfortable venturing out to feed, but all my efforts are to no avail.

How can I enjoy the activities of my adorable little algae-devouring, glass-sucking pet during the hours that I'm actually awake to see it? Should I resort to altering my sleep schedule in order to spend more time with my pleco?

Signed,

Tanked in Brooklyn

Dear Tanked in Brooklyn,

What, now I'm a pet psychologist?

So, you have a gross, little fish you would like to see more often. Have you considered getting it stuffed?

Ah, but then your tank might suffer the indignity of algae.

My full recommendation is as follows:

Flush the fish, get a dog.

Have you a question for Dr. Marzipan?

Dear Dr. Marzipan,

Why, oh why, must women play such games? I would gift the moon to my lady love if only she asked for it, but she insists on playing hard to get! At first, I understood - her family would never approve our courtship (a nasty incident in which her brutish father believed that he caught me skulking about in the bushes like a common hobo, I trust I need not delve into the embarassing details). Lately, however, she's been taking her deception much too far. From restraining orders to hurling the most terrible accusations at me in public, she stops at nothing to convince the world that she wants nothing to do with me. If I did not know better, I might believe it myself.

However can I convince this delicate flower of my dreams to drop the pretense and admit her love for me, a love I know burns as hotly within her heart as within my own?

Signed,

Just Crazy About a Girl

Dear Just Crazy About a Girl,

A woman's mind is a wily and often unfathomable thing.

To you and I, 'no', means 'no' and 'yes' means 'yes' but, to a woman, 'no' means 'maybe' and 'yes' means 'later but first I'd like you to see you twist your ankle'.

This poor girl is, as you suspect, mad with desire for you but needs you to prove yourself first. This is why she is playing hard to get, to test your mettle.

Instead of lurking about the shrubbery like a crazy bug, I suggest a full-scale assault in the form of a midnight break-in.

Approach her home well after nightfall and pry your way in through a window, preferably on an upper floor, if her house is so designed.

Once you have gained entrance, it is important to further prove yourself by engaging in a decisive scuffle with her father, if possible at the top of a precarious flight of stairs.

If her father is too much of a coward to engage you, her mother will do, or perhaps one of her younger siblings or even a household pet, such as a schnauzer or plecosthemus -when it comes to proving your love, one cannot be too choosy.

Having surmounted these obstacles, as only her true love could, it is now time to carry the shrieking, nightie-clad object of your devotion off into the night. Upon arrival at the bower of your choice, if still she protests, I recommend duct tape or, perhaps, a surreptitious roofie.

In time she will come to love you, I am certain.

I wish both of you the best of luck and a happy life together.

Have you a question for Dr. Marzipan?

Dear Dr. Marzipan,

What should one do when one has accidentally crushed a girl?

Signed, One Too Many Bodies In A Dumpster

Dear One Too Many Bodies In A Dumpster,

I'd suggest a diet.

Have you a question for Dr. Marzipan?

Dear Dr. Marzipan,

I belong to an online community geared towards discussion of Japanese toys. It was once a really nice place, but now it's mired with garbage from morons nobody wants to hear from, and believe me, they're the most vocal. What should I do? Is fire the answer?

Signed,

Somebody needs an atomic punch

Dear Somebody needs an atomic punch,

Fire is going to help you deal with an online community? Oy, have you got reality issues.

What you have to realize is that you are talking about a 'community', and communities, as we know them, are made up of people. People, as you must have noticed by now, come in all varieties, with the majority leaning towards the not-so-bright category.

I suspect this community you are talking about was once smaller, insular -meaning the traditional ratio of average joe to dumbass was not in evidence. Then, I suspect, this hobby of yours became more popular somehow, attracting all manner of dunderhead and eizel toward that which they have been lead to believe is 'hip' and 'bitchen'.

As what your community revolves around is, for most, no more than a silly fad to help while away their empty lives, I counsel patience.

If I am correct, the gibbering masses will soon wander off towards some other glittering piece of foil, leaving you and your elitist chums to while away your empty lives in peace.

Have you a question for Dr. Marzipan?

Dear Dr. Marzipan,

Once upon a time in a hospital, when I accompanied my 'girlfriend' to discuss a complication treatment for her cousin, a social worker whose part of the discussion team inquired my identity in relation to my girlfriend. I naturally said 'boyfriend', but that's the time when I was corrected as 'partner' without any eye contact. Should I call myself the 'partner' of my 'girlfriend' from now on, is this the new 'trend', or just applicable in a hospital setting?

Signed, can't find a right toy in a right price.

Dear can't find a right toy in a right price,

What for does this social worker care the type of relation you are having with the patient's cousin? Did she also ask the name of the person who stitched your milkman's shoes?

The fact that you felt compelled to answer at all is a good lesson about how one can be controlled when in the presence of an 'official'. The proper response would have included a rude gesture and a dollop of phlegm.

Partner or girlfriend? Very simple:

'Girlfriend' and 'Boyfriend' have something in common -the word 'friend'. Partner is more businesslike. Not a bad word but not as warm as 'girlfriend'.

The next time this 'person' you are spending so much of your time with turns down a little roll in the hay, tell her: "You're not fulfilling your end of the deal partner."

Have you a question for Dr. Marzipan?

Dear Dr. Marzipan,

What should one do when one has a crush on a girl?

Signed, Lovesick in New York

Dear Lovesick,

Here you are, sitting in front of one of the greatest inventions mankind has ever pulled out of his brain and you're pining for some dime-a-dozen split-tail that probably doesn't even know you are alive.

My dear boy, The cure for what ails you also resides in this little box.

Go to a search engine and type in the word 'porn'.

In your case, perhaps 'soft core' would be best.

Soon all thoughts of this girl will melt away to be replaced by a desperate search for kleenex.

Have you a question for Dr. Marzipan?

Dear Dr. Marzipan,

Dude. If you wrote these, please, write a book. Yer funny. But if ya didn't GO TO HELL, WORTHLESS SLIME!

Signed, Fugly

Dear Fugly,

Am I to understand you see me as a dude? What is this, some kind of meshugga spaghetti western to you? You want I should wear spurs and a vest?

Oy.

A man tries his best to help people and this is the kind of response he gets. I should've listened to my Uncle Hyman when he told me to stick to the family business.

Please, do me a favor, Mr. Willing-to-refer-to-himself-in-a-public-forum-as-Fugly: come back with a meaningful question or crawl back under that rock you call your brain.

Have you a question for Dr. Marzipan?

Dear Dr. Marzipan,

I'm a twenty-something, white-collar worker obsessed with internet bulletin boards and forums.

I visit these sites on a regular basis -even when at work.

I love them when they are active with posts and become depressed when they are not. Sometimes I get the urge to stir up trouble just to make things happen on them -but I almost always regret it and find myself either lurking with shame or making a grandiose apology. Either way, in a matter of days everything goes back to normal.

Do I have a problem?

signed, Concerned in Billings

Dear Concerned,

Do you have a problem? This is a question you have to ask?

Have you a question for Dr. Marzipan?

Dear Dr. Marzipan,

I am a 15 year old high-school student. My boyfriend and I have been going out for six months and just last night he tried to get me to go all the way. When I refused he got very angry and called me names. I told him he should love me even if I don’t want to ‘do it’ but he just pushed me out of the car and made me walk home –ten blocks!

I love him but am very confused and hurt. Was I wrong?

signed, Hurt & Confused in Trenton

Dear Hurt & Confused

Hurt and confused?!? Hurt and confused?!? Stupid and uptight would be more accurate.

Who buys the dinners? Who drives to the dinners? Who’s been waiting 6 months to get a little nook from a whiney virgin with bubble-gum breath? Oy! Grow up!

This is what’s wrong with America today –no sense of reality.

Have you a question for Dr. Marzipan?

Dear Dr. Marzipan,

I’ve recently stopped smoking and my gums itch. What should I do?

signed, Itchy in Duluth

Dear Itchy,

For what reason you stop smoking? You think RJ Reynolds employees deserve less job security than others?

So, you want to live longer. This is a reason?
Look around you: war, poverty, Paris Hilton. You should be thankful cigarettes are here to provide such a pleasant, relatively affordable alternative to living out your natural life expectancy. So the tail end of the affliction is painful –there aint no such thing as a free lunch, kid.

I advise you run right out and buy a carton of unfiltereds. Two or three smokes and your gums should stop their whining.

Have you a question for Dr. Marzipan?