Dear Harvey - Advice Column
Acknowledgements: Thank you for the fantastic e-mail from pitdog, NeuralClone, Lassievorc, and wordboy. Please keep those e-mails coming. This column depends on you, dear reader.
Disclaimer: Not mine, no profit, I’m keeping my day job.
Disclaimer #2: This is a parody of advice columns. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead or fictional person, past or present, is unintentional and is meant for entertainment only.
*How are you still getting e-mail?* John was incredulous. Here they were stuck literally in the middle of nowhere, and Harvey was getting a steady stream of e-mail.
*I don’t know.* Harvey could only shake his head. *But I have to do the column! It isn’t like you have anything better to do right now, is it?*
*If you can contact the publisher, why don’t you ask for them to send something this way? We don’t have an infinite supply of oxygen or food, you know. And unlike you, I need to move around, stretch my legs, do other bodily functions. It would also be nice to have some one else to talk to. Right now I’d settle for Scorpy, that’s how desperate I am!.* John hadn’t seen his real feet in days.
*Let me do my column, and then I’ll add a note at the end, you can even write it.* Harvey pleaded.
*Okay, Harve, another hour or two won’t make a difference.* John conceded.
Dear Harvey,
My boss is the most egocentric mistake of evolution to walk this earth. He is mean, arrogant, short tempered and lazy. The other day he was late on a report and stole my work, and signed his name to it. Yesterday he ate my lunch! Today he walked into the john to give me another assignment! He had the nerve to slide it under the door! Can you believe this dweeb?
Well, my question is this.
He had an unfortunate accident today. He ate a sandwich (mine *sigh*) containing tainted lunch meat (shrug-who knew??), and then he had to run to the john, where he promptly slipped on some spilled water (coincidence?) on the floor and banged his head on a toilet bowel that was, sadly, clogged with solid waste (small pipes in the office plumbing) which over flowed onto his bleeding scalp. He is in the hospital now, with food poisoning, a broken hip, a concussion, and an infected scalp wound.
To be brief- my question is, should I send him flowers with my get-well card?
signed-
the view from my new office is great, now that my name is on the door and my bosses name is down:)
Dear great view,
How very lucky you are that your jerk of a boss ate you tainted sandwich instead of you. Just think, there but for the grace of god go thee.
Aside from being grateful that he suffered the consequences of your tainted sandwich (who knew?) instead of you, it appears he got his just desserts! Why send him anything at all? Do you really want him to return and spoil the view?
On the other hand, it could look bad if you don’t at least send him a get well card, after all, it was your sandwich that started the serendipitous chain of events (for you), so I would send him a simple, cheap, get well card only. Do not embellish. On the other hand, you might want to consider sending him some white lilies as a gesture of your sincerity. Perhaps, one white lily will suffice, as you don’t want to over do it.
______________________________
Dear Harvey
I wonder if you could give me some advice about a piece of heirloom jewelry! My uncle left me his estate, including a gold ring he acquired on his travels in his younger days. Recently some rather strange people have started asking questions about it - nine rather intimidating men in black, and a fishy character calling himself Gollum. I'm beginning to wonder if my uncle came by the ring quite honestly. Should I try tracing the original owner and giving it back?
Yours,
Frodo
(Bag End, Hobbiton)
Dear Frodo
It is never too late to worry about the provenance of an heirloom. Your inheritance can indeed have a dark past. You definitely should make every effort to prove the piece belongs to you. Failing that, you will need to somehow manufacture the necessary papers that prove this ring rightfully belongs to you.
You may have to seek out this pretender to the ring, and put the issue to rest with the papers now in your possession. If the pretender comes up with equally convincing papers, you might want to consider tossing a coin for the ring. This method seems to be favored by someone I’m rather close to. This will only give you a fifty-fifty chance of keeping the ring, but if the pretender isn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer (another Earth phrase I’ve learned from John), then you can use some trickery to make the odds one hundred percent in your favor. Just tell the pretender “Heads I win, Tails you lose.”
______________________________
Dear Mr. Harvey,
You’re tremendous! Your tremendous talent has been brought to me attention by a colleague of mine. I believe you could have a very successful career if you went out on your own! You are obviously the strength behind John Crichton, not to mention the brains, the charisma and the wisdom! I mean no disrespect, but why don't you ditch that human loser so you can really shine! Not just an occasional e-column, but perhaps a TV show of your own, maybe a feature film! The sky is the limit (no pun intended)! Please get in touch with me. we'll do lunch!
Sincerely,
Ignatius Mortimer Sleazey
e-mail: IMSleazey@rip.com
Dear Mr. Sleazey,
Oh that I could do what you are suggesting! But your e-mail couldn’t have come at a worse time. Not only am I stuck with John Crichton for the moment, but we are stuck somewhere in the Universe. In fact, you might be able to help get us out of this pickle and then we can do lunch!
I must assure you that I cut quite a presence (if only John would give me more air time) and as soon as I am able to and will definitely look you up first.
So hurry and get us out of here, and you will be the first one I look up.
Er, is my left or right profile the most flattering?
______________________________
Dear Harvey:
I have a problem that I find difficult to discuss with my friends. In my head I have living a duplicate of an adversary of mine, left there after a chip, placed by the adversary, was removed. He has the annoying habit of popping up when he's not wanted. While it is true that he has at times been beneficial, he can be very annoying and distracting. The thing is, when I'm talking to this poohka, it looks like I'm talking to myself. My friends already think I've gone off the deep end. This isn't helping their opinion of me.
Any suggestions as to what to do about him?
Signed
An astronaut, lost in some distant part of the universe.
Dear Astronaut,
What a coincidence! My close associate, John Crichton, and I have a very similar situation. However, we have worked out the details, and with few minor exceptions, it seems to be working rather nicely.
What I would advise you to do is give the poohka some time of his own, where you do not interfere. I know it will be difficult at first, but believe me, we ourselves went through this very thing, and have developed what I think is an equitable working relationship. We, in fact, do help each other and I have saved his eema more than once. I know John appreciates me, and would undoubtedly not know what to do without me at this time.
You should pay your poohka more heed, and I’m sure you will find that he is as invaluable to you as I am to John.
______________________________
*John, I’m about to send these off to Unohoo’s Shorts. What do you want me to write?*
*Basically, we need to get out of this graveyard, we can’t find a livable atmosphere on a dead Leviathan, and we need someone to come find us.
Dear unohoo,
Please find my weekly column attached for your publication.
Before you put the column out, I do have a small request. What you may not be aware of is John and I are floating somewhere near a Leviathan graveyard (uh, John tells me it is The sacred Leviathan Burial Ground), and we need to find a place where we can park the Farscape and get out and stretch our legs, etc. Unfortunately, all the Leviathans that we have come upon thus far have been dead with no atmosphere that we can breathe. I’m afraid if we don’t find something soon, or if someone doesn’t rescue us soon, we will be out of oxygen and food. We are so low on fuel, that we cannot go anywhere as we need what little fuel we have left for warmth. If we don’t get help soon, I shall be forced to stop writing this column, I simply won’t be able to continue.
Sincerely,
Harvey
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