Dear Amil,
Recently I went to see Phish. My friends won’t stop with the teasing. I’ve tried to play them a few songs to convince them that it’s ok. They didn’t like Chalkdust Torture. They really didn’t like Fluffhead. Now the teasing is so much worse. They are calling me Fluffhead and they mean penis when they say it. What should I do?
Phishhead
Dear Take Me Now Lord,
Wow. You are blowing my Fluffhead with this question. And I mean penis when I say that.
I’m not saying I know the most about music, but when you say Phish, you mean that band with the ice cream? Are we talking about Cherry Garcia?
Look, I saw Lillith Fair at a very impressionable young age so I’m not going to judge you too hard, but you should know that it’s taken years to erase that experience from my memory. But I have. I unbraided the body hair. I took down my “Smash the Patriarchy” posters. I’ve moved on. I’m like, “Paula Cole who?”
So listen to your friends when they say, “Shut up about that band that no one has ever heard.”
The healing starts right here.
Dear Amil,
What should I do with my life? I feel like I’m going nowhere fast.
Aimless
Dear It’s The Journey, Not the Destination (bullet!),
It’s a recession, dummy! There’s not time for pontification or bourgeoisie yearning. People are eating squirrels, god dam you!
Finding yourself is for closers!
Jokes. Here you go: