Lexicon Daily Readers — turn to other sources for good advice; turn to us for badvice.
Dear Lex: I'm 27 years old and live with my parents, who are both in their mid-50s. A few months ago, my dad was forced to quit his job. The problem is, I have proof that my father is cheating with an ex-co-worker. I did my own investigating and was able to get names, numbers and photos. My mother has her faults, but she doesn't deserve to be cheated on. I want to confront him and give him an ultimatum — this girl or us. What do you say?
— Stuck in the Middle
Dear Stucko: Forget about your parents. They’re losers. Don’t you be one, too. Your mother’s a cold fish in the sack, and your dad is an infidel for dropping his line in somebody else’s river. Focus on yourself. You’ve proven you have what it takes to be a personal services coordinator. Consider this your first case. You can make a bundle catching men in flagrante delicto and solving problems of a domestic nature. All you need is to get the word out that you have a talent collecting names, numbers and photos and you’re willing to do what it takes to get the job done. That can be your avenue out of Loser Lane.
Dear Lex: My 66-year-old husband suffers from both osteoarthritis and rheumatoid arthritis. The diseases have advanced to the point that simple tasks are extremely difficult if not impossible. Consequently, we have to constantly endure thoughtless and hurtful comments from friends, neighbors and even family accusing him of being lazy because they see me doing the lion's share of physical labor around our home. Millions of people are just like my husband. Is there help out there? Why isn't more being done for these people?
— Frustrated in Elgin, Ore.
Dear Frusty: Back in the day, before whitey ran roughshod over this continent, the red man always pitched his tepee near a chasm, such as the Grand Canyon. The reason was to take care of cases like your old man. The time comes when the groove is gone and no drops are falling from his rain dance. You need to hire a good personal services coordinator – see above – who will take Mr. Arthritis to the nearest cliff, feed him some potent peyote and push pops painlessly over the precipice. Problem solved.
Friday, February 27, 2009
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