Move over Dear Abby, there’s a new good-advice-giver in town.
Well, don’t really move over because I believe Dear Abby is, as they say, 6 feet under and somebody else has taken her place. But that’s not really important.
The important thing is I know that many, MANY readers come to this blog looking for helpful advice. Or they come for humor and end up with good advice, gently given. Or they take the wrong turn at a really popular blog, wind up here by accident and have to endure my shrilly-screamed opinions shoved down their throats while they desperately try to find the exit.
However it comes about that you arrive here, I try not to disappoint. Who can ever forget the wise words of advice I gave in Miss Peg-o-Leg’s Guide To Excruciatingly Correct Comment Etiquette?
(Except maybe WordPress, whose neglect of that post for Freshly Pressed honors is perhaps the biggest crime of this or any other century. (Except for maybe Drew Peterson’s murdering his wives. I see the verdict in that case has been newly handed down, landing squarely on the side of justice, in my never to be humble opinion.))
What were we talking about?
Oh, yeah. Continuing in the fine tradition of me telling people what they should do, I am guest advising dear Hippie Cahier, over at her blog at this very minute. By the way, Hippie is neither a hippie nor a notebook. Go to her blog to find out what that all means. It’s complicated. But she is definitely someone you should get to know.
If anyone else is looking for good advice, just ask. I’ll be happy to cast my pearls with or without swine. You’re welcome.
Why does my commercial always have something to do with weight loss? See that, right above here? So I’ve gained back a few schmeezly pounds. Bariatric surgery…really, WordPress?
Mine are always bariatric surgery or Weight Watchers. Maybe there is a spy-cam in my case, but you are looking lovely, as usual. Popping over to read your advice at Miss HC’s.
Peg – don’t worry so much. You’re doing fine, except for that time WP didn’t FP your excellent piece about etiquette. Or that flow-chart visualizing the machinations of the female brain – that was a work of art!
Here’s the new magnet on my frig, which I found in a Moose-themed, Maine tourist shop:
Worry is like a rocking chair.
It will give you something to do,
But, it won’t get you anywhere.
I liked your piece on the need for civil discourse in politics and I’m sure educated, reasonable people know it is about how we currently elect government officials, and how that can and should be much more productive. I don’t care if you are Dem or Rep. I’m disgusted with both parties.
It is a call for more achievement through civil methods. Civility is the lubricant of society.
You went to Maine for lobstah and found the meaning of life. That’s what I call a great vacation!
Good advice, big sis. I really DO need to stop worrying so much. And amen to the call for civility.
Your Comment Etiquette is one of my all-time favorite posts. I’ve been tempted to send it to many people who stalk follow me so I turn follow them. No more!
I saw your post over at Hippie’s. I recently followed her and love her!
Thanks, Robin. Feel free to send that post to all who need it.
Hippie’s fun, isn’t she?
Dear Abby never aged. The picture stayed the same for years! Let me follow this link and see what you’re up to. I hope you aren’t corrupting the poor girl.
Corrupting, moi? I’m helping – always helping my fellow man!
Good advice you say? Well ok, if you can solve this one for me, I shall worship you forever – how can I stop biting my nails? I’ve been biting my nails my whole life, and at 41 years old, it’s really time I stopped! It’s a horrible habit, and I hate that I do it. Every so often I stop for a few weeks and my nails grow all lovely and I love how lovely they are, and then before I know it, I’ve gnawed them down again. I’ve managed to give up smoking in the past, and yet I can’t give up nail biting. Please help me dear Peg-o-leg!
Hmmm. That’s a tough one, Vanessa. Sister Bear, of the Berenstain Bears – my kids favorite books when they were little – had the same problem. Here’s what Momma Bear did. She put 10, shiny pennies in the pocket of her pinafore in the morning, one for each of her nails. The jingle, jingle in her pocket all day reminded her not to bite.
If she bit one of those nails, she had to give the penny back to Momma at the end of the day. If she DIDn’t bite, she kept the shiny pennies and put them in her piggy-bank. Soon she had enough for some candy and a new hair ribbon!
Of course, you’re a big girl so the pennies might not be that great of an incentive. How about poker chips, or metal tokens good for a strawberry daiquiri?
Thank you, I shall mull that over and see if I can come up with a version that will work for me. What helped me give up smoking were that there were very compelling reasons to give it up to motivate me – it’s seriously bad for your health and it’s expensive. Nail biting is free and as far as I’m aware, nobody ever died from it. So my only motivation really is vanity and that hasn’t worked so far! So I shall have to think on a reward program…
There’s also the unconscious angle. It’s very hard to go buy a pack of cigs, find a match and light one up without some forethought. With nails, you could be working on a particularly vexing blog post, look down and – lo and behold – somehow your nails are down to the nubbins!
Instead of nails, for me it’s chocolate. Very hard habit to break. Good luck!
I thought Dear Abby was still alive… I think it’s Ann Landers you are thinking of.
Oops! Sorry, Dear Abby. Rest in peace, Dear Ann Landers.
I have a recipe for ‘Ann Landers’ Meat-Loaf’.
I’ll let you know how that all works out if I can ever get past the ‘in a large skillet’ part.
ANN Landers Meat-Loaf? I definitely want to know how that turns out.
Dear Abby or Peg-o-leg or Ann or whoever you are,
I’m an ex-policeman. I have a terrible habit of offing my wives. Up until now, it really hasn’t affected anyone other than my wives. Lately though, law enforcement has taken umbrage and convinced 12 complete strangers that I should be encarcerated. Frankly, I believe that I should be freed to marry again to see if I can break this unfortunate habit on my own.
Any advice would be appreciated.
Sincerely – “Jailed in Joliet” (or as I am more affectionately known here – Bubba’s bitch)
Is this What’s My Line or one of those guess who the guest is shows?
Nice, Al. Nice – especially the Bubba’s bitch 🙂
You’re in luck, JJ! There are lots of women ready, willing and able to believe you didn’t really mean any of that murder stuff – you wouldn’t have done it if the women had just tried to understand you! In fact, Peg-Co is starting an online dating service: Con Match.com. I’ve got a prospect for you right below. Bubba’s bitch, meet Lorna.
I have an obsession with marrying ex-policemen who collect wives who seem to have very short expiration dates. I especially like my future husbands with that “salt and pepper” hair color and who look good in orange jumpsuits. But those men seem to be taken,,,like to jail. What’s a sociopath-lover to do?
Sincerely, Ima Kook
Ha Ha! 🙂
Dear IK, Just complete Peg-Co’s online application for Con Match.com, send in with your $100 entry fee and I can make all your delusions, er, dreams come true.
Poor “Debbie.” I mean, how lucky she is to host you! 😉
Can’t wait to read!
I should quit my day job and CHARGE people good cash money for my great advice. Just look at how I turned your life around, Ju-ju Bees.
Dear Peg-o-Leg, my boyfriend tells me he will marry me if this baby is a boy. I am only six months along. Is there anything I can do to make it be a boy?
Sure! Send me $10,000 and I’ll send a magic pill by return mail.