Write to Dear Crabby

Dear Crabby,

I have a rather delicate problem.  My uncle, who we see often, must have a gastric storm problem because everywhere he goes, a strong and unpleasant stench follows him.  The sad part is that his sense of smell is compromised, so he is not aware of how offensive his SBDs are to those around him.  I'm not exaggerating when I tell you that I have had to use odor destroying sprays on my couch after one of his more "violent" visits.  I end up only inviting him when I have no way out of it, and that isn't fair to my aunt, who I love dearly.  What should I do?

- Holding My Breath

Dear Holding My Breath,

Please, please get your aunt to an ear, nose, and throat specialist immediately! Once her nose is working properly again, no doubt her next step will be to the divorce lawyer. This should clear things up--for the both of you!

-Crabby

Dear Crabby,

I have good news and bad news--I've lost tons of weight in the past couple months. So much so that I've dropped a clothes size! The bad news is that I have a whole wardrobe just full of this season's designer clothes that now look like bags on me. I've invested thousands in this wardrobe. What can I do?

- Slender and Panicked

Dear Slender and Panicked,

I would think the answer to your question would be obvious, darling. Get that sexy slender body out there and get yourself a lover who is a professional in the tailoring industry.

-Crabby

Dear Crabby,

I have a neighbor friend who seems intelligent and normal enough -- after all, this-here dude was a chemical engineer at one time -- but I think he's going bonkers. The ol' coot is paranoid as hell. (He's also had a couple of inventions patented.)

When we occasionally go out to movies or dinner, the topic always swings around to his belief that one of the handymen in our complex is breaking into his two-bit-shit upstairs efficiency apartment and taking his stuff ...or leaving dresser drawers open, or moving pictures around or... well, you get the idea. He bought some video equipment so as to catch the bugger in the act, but he says he's having trouble setting it up.
 
Ol' Coot called this afternoon, but when he started to say, "The books on my table have been moved," I boldly suggested that he must have a mischievous ghost living in his digs that's taken a liking to him. (I mean, he CAN be funny, charming, and all that bull.)

He's been on meds for this, that & the other damn fool thing, so this could be one of the reasons why he acts so nutsy. But as he also needs his (hard) liquor, I told him that low-life scumbag entities from the lower astral plane like to hover around drunken sods in taverns -- trying desperately (and of course, failing) to drink some of their booze. (Psychics have reported "seeing" those earthbound dead folks doing just that, so I ain't making it up!) I told him that one must have latched on to his aura and followed him home.

Hey, I know something about this stuff! I suggested that he light up a stick of sage and swirl it around not only himself but also around his over-crowded pad. Said he could also use incense. I figured that telling him this can't hoit -- an exorcism sort of thing.
  
So what do you think? Do you have any wise, though crabby, words to offer?

Gee thanks,

- Ol' Crone Who's Up to Here With That Ol' Coot

Dear Ol' Crone,

Sounds like he's done a little more engineering with his chemicals than was good for him, hon. Ghosts or no ghosts, this man's deck is probably short a whole suit.

In any event, he's likely to be moving into that big house up on the hill before too long, and the state will take what little he has left.

Since he thinks he's being robbed anyway, why don't you just help yourself to whatever you can get your hands on? He'll never be the wiser.

-Crabby

More letters coming soon

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