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Dear N'3lvra,

I'm bummed. My computer keeps screwing up, but oh well... what's new...Also, my husband is going out of town for 4 LONG days, and I'll be so very happy, SO I have a many chores to do, but that's okay because I know when I'm done with them, I can go plant flowers, or trees, or something I'll feel even better, and I deserve to feel good, so WHAT IS THE PROBLEM??
Bummed in Beloit

Dear Bummed,
Doesn't it seem strange that your husband is going out of town at the very same time that another reader's wife is going out of town? Where are they all going? If this keeps up, trees will be planted everywhere and global warming will slow way down. Cortney is for that.
N'3lvra

P.S. I seem to have a rash of writers who have no problems. What's up with that? How come the advice columnist has more problems than the readers?

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Dear Courtster:

My big problem is...............................................................................(suspense) that I don't have a problem-can you believe it!....oh, I wish I did cause I'm sure your wisdom (or lack there of) would come in handy....but, alas, I've been thinking and prodding, probing and nodding, but I just can't seem to come up with a damn problem.

Now, I say that this is a problem-the lack of a problem, but if my problem is that I don't have a problem, is it really possible for me to have a problem....I think not....and I'm sure you would agree! What a predicament. So, I just have no problems....hmm, I must be pretty cool.....Although, people are mostly blind to their problems....therefore, perhaps I am harboring a problem that is just out of sight....hidden in that nasty unconscious that Freud spoke about....or maybe it is out of my unconscious and I am stuck in the denial phase. Maybe, just maybe, therefore, you can help me out-given your incomprehensible gift for determining the human condition (although Freud might not agree that you are perceptive, given that you are a female and are envious of the male's private parts-oh, you poor woman! So misguided and warped by the male presence). But anyway, I never was much for Freud...so, you mystic advisor with the brand new socks, lets put you to the test. What are my problems? Well, you can start with one...but, it can't be too obvious...must be one I am unaware of...let's hear your prognosis.

Problemless (but cool)

Dear Problematic,

Oh dear, I think this mail was intended for the psychic advice network, because those people can tell just by the font and stuff all about you, and then give you a good fortune, or in this case, a good problem. But, since you wrote to me, I'll take a stab at it. (Those psychics cost like, $900 a word, and this, of course is free.)

Could any of these be your problem?

1) You'd like to give up some of your vices for health reasons, but then, as soon as you do, you think, why bother? Because life without vices, well, it's a bit flat. You hate to be wishy washy, quitting things, taking them up again, and so on. All of this just makes you want to chew.

2) You'd like to win at hockey more, but you dislike your coach and the other players too, at least most of them, except for the one who hit you. Strangely, he's one of your favorites. There's a problem in here somewhere, although N'3lvra can't quite pin it down.

3) You are going on a trip soon, but you don't know what book to take. You can't decide between a book that would make you look good (in case you meet anyone you'd like to impress), a book that would be good, or a book that you should read. (Courtney could probably suggest a few books in each category, if that's your problem.)

Are any of those right?

Courtney

P.S. The socks weren't new. But I'm glad they don't look as Value Village-y as the rest of my attire.

Dear N'3lvra,
I'm bummed. My computer keeps screwing up and I've been on Microsoft tech support for 4 hours today, but no solution the getting the "blue screen of death". Also, my wife is going out of town for 4 LONG days, and I'll be so very lonely, BUT I have too many chores to do, but don't want to do them because I'm bummed, but know if I go plant flowers, or trees, or something I'll feel better, but I don't deserve to feel good, so WHAT DO I DO??
Bummed in Seattle

Dear Bummed in Seattle,
Silly you. You say that you plant flowers or trees you'll feel better. So plant flowers and trees already. Stop your whining. Do those nasty chores and your lovely wife will be thrilled when she returns.

And, upgrade to XP. You will have a bunch of other problems, but that could be a refreshing change of pace compared to 4 hours on technical support.

Courtney

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Dear Court-Nee,

There's this woman who used to like me, I think, but I was kind of a jerk to her (more than kind of. I was really an asshole). Now, I'm starting to realize what a huge mistake I made, because she's actually pretty cool and it turns out I really like her, but I'm pretty sure she thinks I'm an idiot, if not worse. She will hardly even talk to me. What should I do?

- Formerly a Jerk

Dear Formerly,

Courtney thinks it's a pity that you were a jerk first, then you realized you liked her. If you're going to have a default mode of behavior, N'3lvra recommends that it not be "asshole". There are so many other choices, many of which would avoid this sticky problem in the future.

But now that you're in this spot, the best thing to do is talk to her. It couldn't get much worse.

Cort-Knee

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Dear Courtney:

I have been wanting to write to you but have worried my wit may not be up to the fast-paced speed of your column. Then I figured, "What the hell" and decided I could keep up in the comfort of my own home and read very carefully all of the between-the-line edgy references you make to human behavior.

Here's what I can't get my mind around - my body's beginning to feel middle- aged. But my spirit feels 21. I am trying to excercise and eat right (most of the time) but the flab and decreased flexibility continue. What's one to do?

Thanks for reading,
Love,
What the Hell

P.S. Your column is now my home page.

Dear What the Hell,
I'm so pleased that you wrote. Your problem is surely of interest to many readers. Here it is, straight: you ARE middle aged, which is actually a good thing, because it means you're done with those trying twenties, and the ever-so exhausting thirties. Finally, you've arrived in the actual prime of your life, which is about so much more than flab and flexibility.

Here's something else. Cort-Ney, just today, recieved this, um, I guess you'd call it a prediction: "Your life will totally come together starting now." This, um, prediction, came from a completely reliable source, (an old clam shell filled with sayings at the local coffee shop). For some reason, when Cort-knee exclaimed joyfully and read the fortune out loud, the barista laughed, a little too hard, I might add. I actually think it was your fortune. Because shortly after recieving that message, I attended the dreadful annual exam [by the way, not to stray from the topic at hand, but I HATE it when the dr. says, "Oh, there will definitely be some spotting," when what they mean is, "I just scraped an ever-so-delicate part of you with a sharp cold metal instrument, and I can see already that I've caused a major gash, so be prepared for heavy bleeding."] And I was still recovering, in my own way, from The Daily Truck Hassle, which involved breaking and entering a neighbors house to retrieve car keys, stealing her Very Large Vehicle, using it to jump the bigass truck, and returning the neighbors' car to hopefully the exact same spot. My point is, it doesn't seem like this prediction was for me, so it must be for you!

Love,
Courtney

P.S. I am honored that my column is your home page, and I promise not to bring up the annual exam again.

Dear N’3lvra,

I think I’m going insane. I keep doing dumb things that I can’t seem to help. The other night I left my ATM card in the machine so had to cancel both mine and my husband’s cards and now it will be 2 weeks before we have new ones. I forget to do things and where I left things. I also could care less about a bunch of responsibilities I have and would like to just dump it all but I know I’ll be letting people down and am afraid of being marked as a total flake for the rest of my life. What should it do?

Space Case

Dear Space Case,

Court-Knee can completely relate to this problem. In fact, someone just today said to Cortney, "Hey, are those your keys in the ignition?" Duh, thought N'3lvra (in a fond way, of course). My point is that it's good to find work-arounds for this problem. Leave everything right where you might need it. The purse, keys, and glasses stay in the car. The cash card, well, you don't have to worry about that anymore. Hang out with friends who will pick up the tab.

Dump all of those tiresome responsibilities. I can say from personal experience that it will take a few years for people to notice how flaky you've become. By then, you might be back on your game.

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Dear kertne4,
What do you suggest when your 15 year old's teacher calls you in the middle of the day and asks you to come and pick her up because she's suspended for 5 days for smoking weed at a dance on school grounds?. My first response was--oops. What do you think?

Sincerely,
Randy Ralph

Dear Ralph,
Cort-Knee's first response was, ask your own mother what to do, because surely she's received the same call once upon a time. Then, I thought, hey, at that hippy school your daughter goes to, maybe this is just something she's doing for extra credit. Are you sure the days off are a bad thing, and not a bonus of some sort?

On the subject of days off, if Courtney's boss sent her home for 5 days, everyone would be overjoyed. Everyone.

N'3lvra

P.S. You asked what I think. The apple, the tree: the trajectory is fairly straight, I guess.

P.P.S. What do you think?

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Dear Courneyyyyy5,

I was so pleased to hear that my situation was of interest to your readers. I appreciate Marcia's advice as well as agree with it, and though I'm sure Marsha is a wonderful person and all that stuff, I question whether or not she has the professional training to offer advice. I know that it took you years of research, clinical studies, and copious amounts of drugs and alcohol (fond memories) to achieve the level of performance and skill which you now possess.

Perhaps your readership will deem me split personality or even bi-polar, but I must assume a new psuedonym for your column. I feel that the one you gave me "Cindy" is (forgive me Marsha) to "Brady-esque" and I'm trying to assume the role of a Man/Woman of the 21st century. Given that logic, call me...

Gigi


Dear Gigi,

I think Gigi is a fine name for a man/woman of the 21st century. (Which are you, by the way?)

I'm glad you are able to recall some of the earlier research we did together, which, you are right, has contributed to my excellent advice column credentials. Some of it reminds me of that Big Fish movie. (Did all of that stuff really happen? Like the thing with the roosters?)

Yours Always,
Courtney

P.S. Do you have a question for Courtney? If not, you may put your hand down.

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Dear Courtney:

First off (or firstly), you should buy a Value Village store with all your Euros. (As such) No more looking through the stacks for the prime merchandise, it will all be yours....just take of the rack, put it on, and leave....oh wait, you do that already, never mind!

Secondly, what is this kicked my ass thing? Was there a competition???? if so, I missed it. Isn't it all about having fun enjoying the day, etc.? Is Courtney, perhaps, a little too hard on herself...does she have something to prove? Hmmm.....I have had my ass kicked so many times and so many different things....maybe I am just numb to defeat.

Thirdly, Courtney was never smarter than "him"....he just led her to believe such. If fact and as such, "he" is the smartest dude in the world. Obviously, I have never had my ass kicked at the smart thing...but this is apparent.

Numb to Defeat

Dear Numb,

Purchasing a Vallue Village store of my very own is an excellent idea. I just have to travel to Spain and leave $100 under a particular, highly secure eucalyptus tree in order to claim my prize. By the way, there is SO much more to the story that you allude to; your reference leaves a particularly bad impression. Let's just state right here that shoplifting is NOT something that Courtney has ever participated in. Trading, under very particular and unique circumstances, maybe.

Competition? I have no idea what you're talking about. Of course it was all about having fun. It just might have been more fun if I weren't in so much pain, that's all. Now that your face is all mangled (which I had nothing to do with, by the way), you might understand something about pain.

And about the smarter thing? Drop it already. Cort-Nee does not find it sporting to shoot fish in a barrel.

N'3lvra

P.S. Did you have a question? Otherwise, you may put your hand down.

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Dear Courtney,

Since you decided to put yourself out there to all your screaming fans, I think its only fair that we get to ask a few follow up questions - I know what your response will be, but you can't stop me from asking...

What's with the false humility? Its hard to imagine many people would miss the fact that you were bragging about your young buff ski stallion. I could take this if it was more subtle... or if it didn't run on for an entire paragraph... or if we're being honest if it wasn't the whole motivation behind your little self expose. Perhaps the problem is mine- I feel like sour milk poured down the sink - a little sour and past my expiration date.

Sincerely,
Your old fat ski walrus

Dear My Favorite Ski Buddy Who Totally Ditched Me,

I'm so glad that my plan is working. I was hoping that if I actually wrote about a ski outing with my surrogate ski buddy, the boy known as "he-thinks-he's-studly, at least, but-he's not-always-so-smart" (you know, the one with the mangled face?) in this Very Important and Widely Read column, you might remember how fun it all is and ski with me again. I don't remember needing so many painkillers after we used to ski.

Yours,
Cort-Nee

P.S. Apparently you're counting, that's who, since you asked.

P.P.S. Can you figure out why the fans are always screaming? Is that a good? Luckily I have these great industrial strength hearing defenders. You'll notice that they're the Presidential Model, which goes nicely with my Very Bad haircut.

Well, N’3lvra, 3 is silent, has decided that every so often, like maybe every three hundred hits or so (Hits of what? Oh no, you’ve got Cort-Nee all wrong, hits to this site, silly.), she would just write something about how it’s going. So 300 hits, that seems good, I think Courtney is only responsible for about 285 or maybe 286 of them, which means there might be one or two readers, even. Or one reader who checks every day?

Here are some things, kind of loosely connected to advice, that I’ve learned this week. First off, I just a few minutes ago got an e-mail informing me that I have won 215,810 Euros. Which is a ton of money. I’ll probably buy a pair of pants, maybe even new ones, since some of you don't seem able to drop it, that incident about Value Village and the pants, and then maybe take both pairs of pants on a trip to Oregon for a few days.

Secondly, I had one excellent day of skiing this week, the weather was superb, and the only downside was that my ski companion totally kicked my ass because he’s younger, stronger, faster and let’s just say has more heft to apply to the situation. This slightly competitive advice columnist would never let on how humbled she was, and she hopes he’s not reading this. Court-Knee thought she might have the advantage of technique, which she definitely does on paper, but at the end of the day, she fell more, was slower, and generally felt like she’d been through a meat mangling machine. Cortney also used to be smarter than him until she took that nasty fall to the head.

It especially pissed Courtney off that she wasn’t in better shape, after participating in the Extremely Horrible Gym Contest, during which she spent way too much time doing boring things amidst grunting sweaty people, and didn’t even win the trip to Africa. A tiny point of pride for Courtney is that she does NOT use the treadmill, because the metaphorical comparison to the rest of her life is just too painful. That, and the fact that she’s not quite coordinated enough to master it, which once led to an embarrassing and painful incident. (Advice: don't close your eyes while running on one of these things.)

And lastly, none of you have ever seen Cortnee, (there’s a reason why there’s no picture on the column), but this advice columnist has gotten a new haircut, it’s not so blunt scissors and thorazine, it’s more John Kerry, a long, shaggy 70’s toupe-ish look with a short-bangs housewifish edge. It actually does look like a toupe, which is kind of fun until people start yanking on it. And, I’m not trying to take too much credit, but he surged in all of these races merely the day after she began sporting this new do. She’s regretting that she didn’t choose something more Cleavelandish.

Keep writing,
N’3lvra, the Three Is Silent

P.S. How annoying is the third-person thing? And the slipping in and out of it all the time? Should Courtney drop that already?

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Dear Kurd-sneeze-

Not to horn in on your territory or anything, because you are the best when it comes to advice columnists (can I borrow your car this weekend?), but about the Cindy and Andrew correspondence....it's clear that all Andrew could think about was getting his ya-yas from going to Target. Cindy could (and seemingly did) pour her heart out and he couldn't get past fixating on that six-pack of white socks for $6.99 that he scored. I agree with you and Richard Flanagan that he's one big fat loser. I'd even say he fall into the f---wad category. Perhaps you can't print this now that I've gone and labeled him so offensively, but isn't this the very behavior we females whine about all the time??? Isn't this just the crux of the pwoblem? Oh dear, it's my Elmer Fudd personality trying to take over, er- isn't this just what Dr. Phil is always talking about???? Cindy should quit wasting her time writing to Target Man and just confide in you because you are way funnier.

Marcia Brady

Dear Marcia,
Yes, you may borrow my car. Only, in Courtn'e's family, we don't call it the car, we call it the Big Ass Truck, because that's what it is. (Can N'3lvra come with you?)

I think it's very helpful for Cindy to hear another opinion on this Andrew. What is it that men find so alluring about those packs of socks? CortNeee HATES that.

CortKnee

P.S. Where are we going in the Big Ass Truck? You can drive.

P.P.S. I hate to reveal too much, but I happen to know both Cindy and Andrew, and if I had to pick (which I don't, because I already did), Cindy would win hands down.

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Dear Ms. Cox,
I realize how frustrating it must be to constantly be confused with an slutty, drug addict like Courtney Love. I mean, she never even danced with Bruce Springsteen. My questions for you are: How is Jennifer taking your pregnancy since rumor has it that she wants to be a mommy too? Also, will there be a reunion show in the future?

Truly,

Your Friend

Dear Friend,
I do hate it when N'3lvra is confused with that slutty druggy Courtney who hasn't even danced with the Boss. Cort-Nee's Boss, on the other hand, says about Kort-knee, "she's a smart ass, but you can't help but love her." Which some say is a complement, others say, umm, maybe not. The glass, half full, or half empty? On a lovely day like this, half full, I think. It's definitely a complement. What else could it be? With the Other Courtney, it's totally empty, because she already downed the contents, which is why you don't see Random People writing to her for advice.

Your Friend,
Court-Nee

P.S. I'm working on the reunion show right now. Although, since I've never really worked with anyone else, it might be just like the regular show.

P.P.S. Jennifer is taking the pregnancy better than Courtney, that's for sure. (Kortnee is just a little surprised, that's all).

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Dear N'3lvra,

I am 13 years old. I go to elementary school. I am in the 3rd grade. Other kids tease me because I'm so old for the 3rd grade. They call me names like "geezer" or "grandpa". How should I get them to stop calling me names? And how do I advance to the next grade?

Third-Grade Geezer

Dear Third-Grade Geezer,

I'm so glad that you wrote. I suspect that this is a phony letter, though, because I happen to know you. In fact, could you lean a little farther away, it's crowded on this chair.

But back to your problem: I think the only reason that a teacher would possibly hold you back is because you are so hilarious and charming that they couldn't bear to have you move on. That, or the thing about the times tables. Memorize the sixes already!!

Forever Yours,
Courtney

P.S. Next to you, I think Eddie Izzard is the funniest person on the planet.

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Dear Cernee9,

I have noticed that some of your more recent postings are a bit vaugue--in fact it is hard to ascertain the question. Let me be direct. Today I received a message from a friend with whom I have been corrosponding (I don't believe he knows of your column) which responded to a very personal letter (an actual letter, stamp and everything!) that I sent him about my feelings about life, love and all matters important. I have enclosed his reply below, but you may (if you deem this column worthy) want to edit it. Now to my questions:

1. What dear advisor does this mean--what's up with "the next week or so"?

2. What should be my response? (I will tell you in advance I am leaning toward to response at all)

Please feel free to answer in whatever method kertnii feels is most effective.

Your faithful reader,

Cindy

Enclosed Letter: Subject: "Mail received"

Hey Cindy,

I just got back from Target and received your mail. I read your letter and, of course, a number of things come immediately to mind. I think though, to respond thus would be to minimize the situation. Please know that I will get back to you to over the next week or so.

Andrew

Dear Cindy,

How familiar, and yet how weary, Courtney is with this sort of thing. The abstruse non-response that poses as an actual response. The week or two thing is pretty unacceptable. When's the last time this Andrew actually got any personal mail? I think (and I have insider info on this) that anyone would be a fool to neglect an opportunity to correspond with you on life, love and all matters important. But, perhaps there's your answer.

Courtney suggests these things:
1. Read Death of A River Guide by Richard Flanagan. Okay, don't read it, because it's not really your kind of book. But there's this one bit, where the main character suddenly realizes what a loser he is, and says something like, "ya know, life only hands you so many chances, and if you piss all over them, well, life sort of gives up on you, and I guess that's what happened to me." Looks like that's what might happen to Andrew too.

2. Indulge yourself in some Old 97's. A distracting crush on Rhett Miller might be just the thing, for he is smart, funny, soulful, writes excellent sardonic, bitter, yet hilarious lyrics (Like, here's something that people find the tiniest bit bitter: "I hope you crash your momma`s car, I hope you pass out in some bar, I hope you catch some kinda flu, Let`s say I wish the worst for you."). I assume that if Rhett weren't already married to some super model half your age, he would certainly respond appropriately in a timely fashion.

3. Don't fall for that late 40's jello thing. (Men who suddenly fear ending up alone in a nursing home, drinking jello through a straw, and therefore are eager to hook up with anyone even slightly younger who may be able to spoon feed them later in life.)

4. Finally, forgive this boy, for he's probably doing the best he can.

Fondly,
Court-Knee

Dear Courtney, Nirvana, over or whatever your name is....,

For your information, I have never lusted after my dental hygienist....that is where I draw the line. I mean, how can you be attracted to women who stick metal objects in your gums? Well, wait a minute...hmmm...anyway, regardless, I do have a life....a life without the need to feed the hungry, home the homeless, give smarts to the smartless, care for the careless, show kindness to the kindless, starve the overfed, steal food from fat, give facelifts to the faceless, or other liberal, weepy eyed, crying heart stuff like that.

Now Ms. Cortisone, you, you you......sitting up there in your government ivory tower, casting aspersions upon those needy enough to grace your column.....you don't have time for my meager problems???....my problems would not normally make your column?....well, well, why, why don't you....well, do something, you!

Not just anybody....not nobody.

Dear Nobody,

Relax. Your problem, whatever it is, just did grace my column. I'm not sure what your question is, so I'll ask one of my own: How was your date with the boy you met at the gym? Did you wear that shiny shirt?

N'3lvra

P.S. Readers, you can see that this Important Column is suffering from a serious lack of good letters. Please help.

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Dear KortKnee

CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW? Perhaps with the incredible income you are no doubt enjoying from the proceeds from this fine column you can find a cell phone that works.

Someday, just for you, I'll iterate the number and types of vehicles I've owned over the years. It would be a useful exercise and you could perhaps advise me on whether or not my expenditures have been wise. I think since 1964 it's been around 30 or so. Not quite one every year but close. I really appreciated the links to the sites for a ranchero and 8-tracks. I'm sure they'll be quite helpful to me in filling my golden years. Why must we age so rapidly? Can age ever truly be relative? Has KortKnee ever owned a horse?
About the CIA and pleather, I happen to think that an artificial leatherette type product looks very good on anyone. Even spies and others of ill repute. The teeny cell phones are another matter. I would prefer a return to the old wall-hung crank type phones, though they are a lot harder to use in cars and restaurants. What are KortKnees thoughts on this? As far as CIA duties, I believe that currently those duties encompass providing the current administration with somewhat accurate information they can then ignore, skew, or otherwise cherry pick to suit their needs, but I digress, metaphorically speaking.

Perhaps KortKnee should track me down sometime to discuss these and other pressing problems for which I desperately need such sage advice. I remain

Bucked off in the Purple Sage


Dear Rider of the Purple Sage,

It is hard for me to determine what, exactly, your question is. Which gives me a fine opportunity to ramble on about myself, I suppose, although Cort-Nee is just not that kind.

N'3lvra

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Dear Curtknee,
I have noticed of late that there is a wealth of golf related advice being dispensed by you and I happen to know that you do not know a thing about the subject. What's up with that?
Love,

Lee Palmer

Dear Lee,

Unfortunately, most of the letters that Cort-Nee receives are unprintable. So she is forced to write about golf. This job isn't quite what she expected.

If you have a problem with all of the golf questions, please write to N'3lvra about something that she actually knows about. We're still trying to discover what that is.

Courtney

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Dear KortKnee:

Thank you for your rapid response. I am puzzled by your reluctance to advise me about the over the top move. I know in my heart of hearts that everyone is as obsessed with hitting the small white orb as I am so I know that your subtle words were meant only in jest and as a bit of a tease.

I once drove a burgundy ranchero (68 with a 302 and white leatherette interior and cover on the box), do you think that would fulfill the needs I have? It had an 8-track and I'm not sure Prine is available in that format, however I do have a few old Willie Nelson 8's around. If I could just figure out which correspondent of yours smokes the Newports, and with my new bowling ball (which by the way looks like a fifteen pound acrylic golf ball) I might just be all set to find that elusive fulfillment and serenity we all so desire. Any thoughts?

Metaphorically speaking, you do perhaps sound, ummm, disappointed. Perhaps I could offer some advice. As a young lad I had an Arabian mare. Great horse, but never more than green broke at best. Every morning I would saddle her up and climb on. Every morning she would do her best to throw me off. She was usually successful. Big horse, hard ground, hurt like hell. Didn't matter cause you just have to get up, dust yourself off and get on that mount again. If you don't, they sense the fear and take advantage. That just isn't acceptable. Metaphorically speaking of course. I am a

Rider of the Purple Sage

Dear Rider of the Purple Sage,

I think the Ranchero is a great idea. You'll need to plan on spending about $7K, which is more than the cumulative total that Courtney has spent on cars in her whole life, so it seems a bit steep. But with the white leatherette interior, it may be worth it.

The newport smoker. She seems to be in and out of consciousness lately, so I dunno.

And the last thing you were talking about, um, were you on a cell phone? Because I couldn't really hear what you had to say, there was a lot of static or something, or maybe water on the page. Anyway, a young relation of mine asked if there is more to working for the CIA than wearing pleather suits and carrying very tiny cell phones. Do you know? (And I'm not talking about the Culinary Institute.)

There seem to be plenty of 8-track tapes out there. As well as plenty of web sites that claim the ability to improve your swing. But none of them are free, like this one.

N'3lvra

P.S.

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Dear KortKnee

Thank you for your latest round of advice. I appreciate the offer of support and help. However I do take umbrage at the suggestion that I was offering a phony line. I meant it when I said it. I just didn't mean it once I'd said it. Do you see the fine nuance I'm relying on?

Who is this masked man that told you jokes and once supported Clark (who's lately began to prove you just can't trust a general or a republican)? Sounds like a fine fellow. However from what I've heard, turning fifty can really do a number on a guy. He may be a little bit confused and perhaps, dare I say it, more than a little bit wussy.

I was desperately serious about the golf swing and would pay good money for a solution to my dilemma as this over the top move is costing me big bucks every weekend. Speaking of over the top, how about if I become the designated driver of a red Thunderbird convertible? (by the by, her heart's not so tender, but I digress). I am however intrigued by your advice to go to P.V. with another guy and have him cook for me. And the golf would just be a bonus. More on that later. But do you really think this would fill the hole in my heart? I am fearfully awaiting the appearance of the

Gold Bullet


Dear Gold Bullet,
Enough on the golf already. Courtney is not interested in golf. (I know that was subtle, but since you're so skilled with the nuance, you probably got the meaning.)

I would have to say yes to the red t-bird, unless of course you have a good lead on an El Camino, which goes better with the John Prine, bowling, and cigarettes, if you're asking for fashion advice.

About her heart: I hope you're right, but In Kort-Knee's experience, men may not have the ability to discern whether the particular heart at their disposal is a work boot or a swallow's egg. (Courtney is fearful of sounding bitter, so be aware that this is just in the category of metaphorical assistance. . . )

Get out of the country for a bit. (What's the range of a gold bullet?) Let that friend cook for you. Regroup. Think up some good jokes. Write again.

Courtney

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Dear Elvira 3cpo-dang,I pronounced the 3,
I just came to on the floor by my computer and your advice column was on the screen. I really don't remember how I got here but I believe my evil twin may have written a rather dubious letter to you at some point in my absence. I do know that the bottle of blackberry cordial is empty and my Dr. Phil books are missing. Also the ashtrays are full of Newport Menthols.....I'm so confused, do you think I need professional help ? Not to say that an advice columnist with a degree in Environmental Science isn't professional....

Dear Confused,
Advice column? Huh? What advice column? I have no idea what you're talking about.

Court-Nee, the 3 is silent for godssakes!