Q&A-Hole: Spiffin’ Edition

Welcome back to Q&A-Hole, a series where I make up a question asked by a straw-man rube suckhead and then provide a magnanimous answer that proves once and for all that I am so very, very wise. That’s right, I control the narrative, and today’s narrative is “narcissism isn’t a disorder, it’s a God-Damn ADVANTAGE.”

Q: Alex, as someone who has voluntarily stopped listening to music, where is the industry headed? What should we expect the near future to sound like?

A: Grunge is back, and it’s better than ever. Creed had 20+ hit songs for a reason, you know. Have you even listened to Staind? This decade, I mean. They have this one song that goes, “guuh grur ba ha cruh buh” and I’m like, yeah man belt it. The lack of fidelity in the recordings really brings it home. In this contemporary era of computerized music, there’s nothing quite like listening to something that you and your dipshit friends could probably have made in your garage over the weekend. Ok, look, it’s not my fault that 10 dollar guitars played through dollar store amps sound good as fuck when I’ve had a few. The grunge movement was home to some true gods, some absolute mood wizards.

Q: Hey-ho, first time submitting a question. What’s your take on the recent shrink-flation in grocery stores?

A: It’s not real until they start selling kit-kats with 3 sections instead of 4. But now that you mention it, my family size box of lucky charms only had 6 marshmallows in it. Huh.

Q: Pronouns motherfucker, do you have them?

A: I’m going to go ahead and ignore your rude tone and instead use it as a springboard to explain why I don’t offer my pronouns up front. I have a gender-neutral name, but I refuse to put my pronouns in any kind of profile or email signature. If you wanna know so damn bad, you get to ASK. I’d be happy to answer you, but don’t expect free information in this economy. Jesus, just assume I’m male like every other co-worker does so we can move on to the important things, like how grunge is back.

Q: Are you holding on to any secret facts that, if shared, could alter the course of American culture and therefore the fate of the world?

A: Funny you should ask. Did you know that cow tipping was never actually a thing? If you, like me, took this staple of rural tomfoolery as fact and laid it down as a cornerstone of your worldly understanding, I’m sorry to rip it from what you assumed to be your solidly founded belief structure. But do you have any clue how hard it would be to tip a cow? An actual monolith of bovine sinew and muscle and bone structure? Those fuckers are heavy, way heavier than your skinny ass could hope to topple. Even my cousin Gurp, mountain of a man that he is, would fail to establish the footing required, the raw frictional purchase necessary to lever one of these mighty creatures off it’s center of balance. Go back to 11th grade math class and draw me up a model for calculating the pounds per square inch you’d need to muster in order to make a cow STUMBLE, let alone tip the fuck over.

Q: My son told me that I should leave the gun and take the cannoli. Do you agree?

A: BOTH. The answer is take both. Both of those things are situationally useful. Do you really want to be caught with a cannoli in a shootout, or worse, packing heat at a lunch gathering? That’s the problem with these vacuum-packaged lumps of certified pre-owned wisdom. No nose for common sense. No sense for context.

Q: Help, I can’t find [missing object]! What do I do?

A: A lot of the time my answer to this question is “buy a new one.” I can’t be moved to stick my hand into the couch cushions in search of missing car keys. Brother, do you have any clue what else might be down there? I once watched a guy reach between the cushions of a display sectional at an Ashley Home Furniture and no joke, when he pulled his arm back out there was just a stump where his forearm used to be. I’ve got a pretty sick forearm tattoo that cost a pretty penny, and I’m not about to risk ruining it to get to work on time. This is exactly why the locksmith is on speed dial. What were we talking about?

Q: I’m redecorating my apartment but I don’t know what kind of style I should aim for. Any advice?

A: Advice the first: go shop at bed bath and beyond. They’re threatening bankruptcy and my several hundred shares purchased at the height of the last speculative peak aren’t going to go back in the money on their own. Advice the second: go big! Your color choices should be bold, and choose fabrics whose patterns make you question whether the designer created them for the average buyer or JUST FOR YOU. Enough of this Live, Laugh, Love, farmhouse chic, newly divorced baby-boomer-but-actually-I’m-on-the-younger-side, empty nester, actually-it’s-not-eggshell-it’s-magnolia-cream, cool mom bullshit. When I walk into your place I expect to be attacked by your decor choices, as if I’d just walked onto the set of Takeshi’s Castle and the next obstacle was the dick puncher puzzle wall. Paisley psychosis is back and it’s out for blood.

Q: My new roommate wears sunglasses inside, a fedora that matches his black duster coat, and won’t stop saying “it wasn’t supposed to end up like this.” Should I be worried?

A: Worried? No. Inspired? Yes, very yes. That there is an individual who understands the delicate mixture of edge and cool that hasn’t been mastered since Dan Aykroyd and John Belushi wrote the book on it. Get the man a cigarette, light it with a fireplace match, and get your asses to church on time.

Q: Is there a reason why my new dishwasher won’t connect to my wifi network?

A: Listen. Not everything needs to be networked to your google assistant. I get that you enjoy waking up and groggily muttering ‘okaygooglemakecoffee’ at your cutely designed corporate spy dressed as a smart home device. I bet that if your Google Home hockey puck asked you for your colonoscopy footage, you’d have uploaded it to them before questioning why they even need it in the first place. Hell, if you’re so dead set on surrendering your whole self to your data hungry, capitalist algorithm worshipping, mega-corporation of choice, why not just ask Chat GPT to answer your questions for you, huh? Wait, no. Where are you going? You were literally the only audience willing to read me! Come back!

That’s it for this installment of Q&A-Hole. Feel free to ask your own questions in the comments, but be warned, I am not likely to read them before replying.