Three months ago, a shipment of letters to a popular teen advice columnist were mistakenly delivered to 86 year-old Archie Brewer, veteran of WWII and the Korean War. Having nothing else to occupy his time, he began answering the letters. He then dropped them off at the post office. However, since he did not write a mailing address on the envelope, they were immediately sent to the dead letter bin, which was then stolen by the leaky wiki. Here are two of what we can only pray is a long succession of correspondences:
Q: My name is Joseph, and I’m in tenth grade, and my friend Taylor and I both have Xboxes. We’ve been friends for a long time (like, 5 years). Recently, he’s been getting a lot of achievements on Xbox live, and he’s been making fun of me for not being as good at the games as him. I don’t want him to know that he’s hurting my feelings, but I want him to stop. What should I do?
A: Dear Joseph,
You need to man up. When I was your age, we didn’t have video games, and there were only four achievements that mattered in high school. First base, second base, third base, and a home run. These video games are a commie ploy. Think about it. That Mario guy? An Italian character from a Japan. I didn’t fight the Guidos and the Japs and the Krauts just so they could stick their techno-gobbledigook into my grandkids’ house.
And did you say your friend’s name was Taylor? That’s another thing wrong with you kids. All of you have unisex names. Taylor, Madison, Robin… God forbid you become a hippie, then looking at you won’t even be able to help!
Here’s what you do to get back at your friend. Stop playing Xbox, and date his sister.
Q: There’s this boy in my history class that I like, but my BFF Courtney likes him too, and she was saying that he liked her but he totally doesn’t. But yesterday my other BFF Denise said that he was totally going out with Courtney. But he’s so cute! <3! How do I get them to break up without them knowing it was me, cuz I still want to be Courtney’s BFF?
A: Dear What’s Your Name?,
In my day, if a girl wanted a guy, she had to work hard at it. There was none of this lazy tomfoolery like today. We couldn’t just go on Facebook and poke each other. To do that, you needed a job and a fifth of whiskey. You got it too easy, what with your sexting and all that. When I was your age, if a lady showed anything above the knee in a photograph you needed to be 18 to see it.
If you really want this boy, you need to be ruthless. Love is a battlefield, and when you’re in the heat of battle, you can’t be afraid to bust a few skulls and leave some friends lying in the mud.
Photo courtesy of Lew Holzman on the Flickr.com Creative Commons.