If you were a cherry tomato in a salad, how would you escape from the bowl to avoid being eaten?
- Hungry and Confused
Dear Hungry and Confused, first, I read this and I thought up a few genius things immediately, because that is what my genius mind is capable of: instant genius. Initial idea: toothpick pole vault. Second option: celery ramp, perhaps aided by a step up from a very helpful large floret of broccoli. Third item of brilliance: in-bowl protection by a thatch of potent red onion slivers, woven together to form a shield.
But then I remembered that I hate cherry tomatoes. Do you ever notice how when you bite into a cherry tomato it resembles what it would probably feel like to bite into an inflamed eyeball? Or a small animal’s testicle? Or a Gusher? If I spot a cherry tomato in my salad I have to cut it in half and scoop out the guts, because the seeds and what I can now only imagine is grape-flavored testicular eyeball pus, are squirting into my mouth with every bite. And I don’t need to tell you all that is not a pleasurable experience (except in very small social circles in France).
So, really, what you’re asking me is a trick question. But I won’t be fooled! Oh no! Not this time, chica-boom! The real, true, honest to goodness and dollars to donuts truth, is that if I were a cherry tomato, I would suffer from extreme self hatred and my morose and disgusting self would wallow in a pool of shame and Italian dressing until someone took pity on me and stabbed me with a fork.
I keep writing into advice columnists for help. Why won’t they answer?
- Believes In Needing A Correct Answer
Because you have bad breath. Binaca, BINACA!
I have a crush on a boy and I think he has a crush on me, too. But I don’t think I can date him because of his name. His last name is Nana and his first name is Ben. What should I do?
- Hannah B.
Hannah bana bo bana banana fanna fo fannah, me my mo mannah, Hannah B. Nana. You know what you must do. Ben Nana is your destiny. Don’t date him. Marry him. Fulfill your life’s quest! Live in perpetual song!
In the grand scheme of nomenclature in the world, Hannah B. Nana is not the most offensive thing I’ve ever heard. It’s not even in the top 10 percent really, since it doesn’t reference genitals, more genitals, or your completely stupid parents.
Since we’re talking top ten, I might as well rattle off a nice list of real names you should be glad you don’t have:
1) Tallulah Does the Hula to Hawaii
2) Tiny Bimbo
3) George Morehead (it’s not bad until you consider his middle name was Gibbs)
4) Coffee Burns
5) Nicholas Unless-Jesus-Christ-Had-Died-For-Thee-Thou-Hadst-Been-Damned Barbon
6) Last name: Dolly. First name: Hello
7) Urhines Kendall Icy Eight Special K
8) Hugh Gilchrist Dick, commonly known to his friends and neighbors as Hugh G. Dick
9) Taco B.M. Monster
10) Brfxxccxxmnpcccclllmmnprxvclmnckssqlbb11116 (Pronounced "Albin")
See? It ain’t so bad, the Future Mrs. Hannah Nana. Just be glad the H in your name isn’t silent, and his last name isn’t Sole.
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Eryn Ashley has two first names. She likes to tell people what to do. However, if she wants your opinion, she will beat it out of you.