I think it would be fun, wait, amusing, to turn things over to my good chum from “across the pond, ” Professor Vladimere Crumbsky for a while. Vladimere has developed a marvelous contraption known to the world as the VC-H2B. This contraption, once strapped to the head, can probe deep within your mind using nothing more than microwave radiation and long, surgical needles. While uncomfortable and sometimes terrifying, the machine is extraordinarily useful when you need to be instructed on the steeps of a simple process.
Vladimere Writes:

Hellosky.

If using my robot is what we are doing, then together it will be glorious! I extend thanks to lofty distances for the chances to be on the digital writing box with you all today and beyond. First, let me warn you that my machine is danger. But it also is good. First, let’s look at why that isn’t so. First of all, machines are big and noisy. First, wearing them is uncomfortable, and finally, first, machines know things that are not good for us to eat. That now said, let’s “get to the downing of business!”

Today, we will ask my machine a simple process: cooking my mama’s famous fudged corn-duck, for guests at our party. I simply strap the machine to my assistant head, we’ll just call to him “Chucky” for now (its name isn’t important, they can usually only be used once.) Now we ask the question above, and the digits work out answers in the form of high-pitched beepings.

Ah! We have our answer… Here for you who are reading these, you might think writing them down is good. I sure do. Get a pen and write these down:

– 1.2 kg Frozen Duck Part
– 350 ml Maple Sugarup
– .5 L Cornpaste
– 2.5 kg of Mrs. Stumple’s Choco-bloks
– 2 cans corn pieces

– Thaw duck to .35 thawdnessitude in a standard thawometer (or set in sun for 15 minutes).
– Coat duck-parts with Maple Sugarup and Cornpaste. Let this harden to a thick shell. You will layer these if you know it’s good for you.
– Dunk battered carcass in melted choco-bloks until fudgeining is inescapable.
– Affix corn pellets in festivity decorating.
– Place in lunar convection oven until at 48 kilobits (or set in sun for 15 minutes).

Serve and enjoy the duck! And, like my mama always said: “Eat the duck!”.
…..
Thanks go out to Vladimere, his machine, and his lovely mother for this recipe. It may not agree with the stomachs of most, but it is fun to listen to how f*edup foreigners are. Thanks to all!

~n

As you all know, I am a licensed Phychonautical-Theraprobe Technician, with degrees in Synaptic Liquefaction and Nural Tectonics from the “¡Mexican Commonwealth Fiesta-Institute of Rehabilitative Science Online!”. I am incredibly eager to share my wealth of knowledge with my small, emotionally-unstable reader base. For this reason, I invite you all to email me with your personal quandaries. These can be centered around personal problems, psychological turmoil, indecisiveness in your footwear purchases, confessionals of a sexy nature (no non-sexy confessions, please), or even requests for astrological guidance (I’m a level 4 moon-baby).

That said, I would like to start off helping a good friend of mine, Johndace McWrinkhaven, with his psychological troubles. Johndace writes:

“Dear Dr. Nayr, M.b.:

I have been having considerable difficulty swallowing solid foods lately. This has led to a feeling of inadequacy and is adversely affecting my private, public, and secret social lives. Today, while in the Foodatorium at the socialist sprocket-foundry where I often work, i was too nervous to eat my SIP (standard issue potato) in front of my present love interest “Charles”, so I retreated to the men’s room in a panic, only to find my other love interest, “Victoria” already using the facilities. When she asked me why I looked so flustered, I was overwhelmed by anxiety and became intensely disoriented. I flung the potato limp-wristed into the bathroom mirror, then curled into a ball on the floor. Upon waking fully-restrained in the facility’s psych-dome, I realized I needed professional help. Since I don’t know any legitimate professionals, I’m turning to you, my trusted, America-friend. Please help.

Cheerfully yours,

J.McW.”

Well, Johndace! That certainly sounds like a predicament! I once had a similar issue, except instead of an inability to swallow solid foods, I was unable to leave convincing voice-mail messages insulting those with similar problems to mine. In anycase, I think I can recall some helpful tidbits I learned at the ¡Fiesta Institute!.

From my own research, along with some other stuff I just made up, but which seems probably totally right: it is clear to me that you are suffering from a condition known as Acute OFIC(e)., or “Oh, F***! I Can’t (Eat)!” This disorder is of the family “OFIC(x)”, which can include a wide range of dysfunction’s, including OFIC(see), OFIC(breath), OFIC(dance). Yours is a very common disorder, occurring in four out of every four-hundred-million adults. A number of prescription creams have been developed, which, once rubbed on the scalp, slow your mental activities to levels which render your problem secondary. I would advise against these products, as they regularly do more damage than goodage.

I have a solution that I think you may find “palatable” :

Keep these items on your person at all times: a plastic bag, a hammer, and a 6-quart thermos of grapefruit juice. Whenever you need to ingest solid food, follow the following recipe: place the item to be consumed in the plastic bag, along with a quart of grapefruit juice (the citric acid in the juice will maybe help to dissolve and moisten the food probably). Strike the bag violently and repeatedly with the hammer, until the bag is filled with a pulpy puree. Have a friend assist you in pouring the contents of the bag over your mouth. Chances are some of this will make it down your throat.

¡Problem solved!

We will be answering more visitor mail periodically! Stay tuned for more psychoanalytical fun!

Just a little side note. This was an incredibly stupid problem. Please, anyone writing in, make sure that the personal problem you need help with isn’t a stupid one. To check to see if your problem is a stupid one, cross-reference your problem with “Rutherford and Hotchkey’s Atlas of Stupid Problems.”