Monday, August 25, 2008

Entrophy VS Order VS Morning Wood

Dear Jason-

I am having a problem with the universe. It doesn't seem to make sense. I am not whining that life is not fair or easy. Instead, I just don't see any logical grouping of circumstances that point towards order, reason or sense. Point in case (this is what is threatening to make me put my faith in entropy vs order)...How in the universe does it make sense to give me morning wood and morning breath at the same time? Can you provide me with proof that the universal plan is a good one, or should I just know that sooner or later everything will go to shit?

-Sensless in Seatle

Dear Senseless,
My unlicensed opinion on the universe and the meaning of life and all related matters is that I have know idea how or why anything works the way it does. This not only includes why we're here, but also includes math, electricity, electronics, how to get stains out of things and why I feel the need to make others uncomfortable through the abuse of "personal space". Here's a link to a website that asks and answers some great questions about "pre-meaning of life" assumptions. I know this answer seems like I'm passing the buck on helping people out who are having the what's-it-all-about dilemma, and I am, but to make up for it I will solve the morning wood/morning breath conundrum. This phenomena has it's root, if you will, in evolutionary biology. Millions of years ago, shortly after the Eden Epoch there was a mass extinction. Over three quarters of the worlds population (approximately 78 people) died of hunger and hunger related illnesses, namely starving. This happened because morning wood was accompanied not by the foul reek of filthy mouth, but by an oral musk not unlike Drakkar Noir. So instead of getting up and going to work, people just hung around having sex all morning, and then napped until lunch, when they would wake up again and have sex again then nap till dinner and have yet more sex. It was for this reason that the Drakkar Sneetches were kicked out of the gene pool and the hard working yuck mouth's took over the planet and spawned us utterly offensive, and hard working, folk.

Your stinky rock hard friend,
Jason Adair the Unlicensed Therapist

Thursday, August 21, 2008

Those Kids and Their Pornography

Dear Jason Adair the Unlicensed Therapist,
I worry about my kid getting into pornography.

-Concerned Mother

Dear Concerned,
The wording of your email could be taken two different ways, so I will attempt to answer both of them.

Possibility #1
You're worried about your kid viewing pornography.
I really wouldn't worry about your kid seeing pornography unless you're one of the 99% of American families who have access to the internet. If your family does have access to the internet/worlds largest collection of porn, then they have probably already seen some weird and crazy stuff that has completely distorted their perception of healthy sexual relationships. This kind of influence can be really dangerous and destructive since children aren't equipped to process this information as anything but sexual education. Check out for some great information on how to talk to kids of all ages about the dangers of viewing pornography.

Possibility #2
you're worried about your kid becoming a porn actor.
(Disclaimer: Yes, I know this is not a laughing matter and that it destroys peoples lives. And yes, I am a bad person and will probably go to hell for making jokes about it.)
If the kid you're referring to is under 18, the chances of him or her getting a job in the porn industry are very slight. Even less so if their weird uncle lives out of state. Pornography, internet or otherwise, it totally illegal for kids to get into and you need to let your kid know this, because that's the kind of thing that could go on their permanent record. Once they turn 18 and enter the "barely legal" demographic, it's a whole different ball game. As a responsible parent it's your job to steer them away from this kind of career. This may be difficult since the media makes it all seem so glamorous, but no one said this parenting stuff would be easy. Let your barely legal teen know that there are many great and rewarding jobs that don't require any special skills or involve taking their clothes off for money, like: line cook at a fast food restaurant, cashier at a fast food restaurant, or person who power washes the parking lot at a fast food restaurant. If they've still got their little hearts set on a career in adult entertainment, try and steer them into some kind of niche porn that doesn't involve them doing anything sex related, like the German "porn" where girls just get expensive cars stuck in the mud. Or the Japanese "porn" where girls in high heels crush model trains.

Your online friend in a not nasty way,
Jason Adair the Unlicensed Therapist

Wednesday, August 6, 2008

Not Your Typical Fire Fighter

Dear Jason Adair the Unlicensed Therapist,

I love all people earnestly. I reach out to my fellow humans and believe that we are all one--that we share a common spirit. I care about people. That said, I hate George W. Bush with a violent, virulent hatred. If that man was on fire I wouldn't piss on him to put out the flames. I want to see him tortured by Jihadists in a Muslim prison. I don't believe this is a contradiction, because I don't consider him to be human. But my other (licensed) therapist says this might be a problem. What does the unlicensed therapy community think?
-Mad as Heck

Dear Mad
The degree to which that kind of anger is acceptable depends on what you do with it. If you use that acid in your veins to get politically motivated and create change, that's fine. But if you're one of those people whose anger inspires you to make horribly obvious and derivative "agitprop" graphics for your myspace, or bore your friends and coworkers with your, oft repeated never realized, plans to move to Canada, or to seduce co-eds from the nearest college Young Republicans group for the express purpose of giving them the raging case of herpes you got at burning man last year, then you might be taking your hate for the president a little too far. Just remember; hate invalidates. And once you have invalidated your own beliefs and opinions, you will have just about as much credibility as the president now enjoys. One more thing for you to think about; everyone looks the same on fire. You could mistakenly watch and cheer, with a full bladder, as your mother burns because you assumed she was the president aflame. I think your mother deserves better than that, don't you?
Your friend on the internet,
Jason Adair the Unlicensed Therapist

In the future, my wife's gonna be HOT!

Your most recent therapy session reminded me of one of the modern axioms: Boob Jobs are hot. And by now, seem to be totally safe. They might even be affordable in the near future. How can I a)convince my wife to get one; and b)fund the procedure without breaking the bank?

-Better living through (cheap) surgery

Dear Better,
The most surefire way to talk your wife into unnecessary surgery, and the risks that accompany it, is to carefully and systematically destroy her self esteem, with a focus on the chest area. First begin to chisel away at her positive body image by pretending to be spooked every time you see her with her shirt off. As time goes on, begin to exaggerate the level of spookedness climaxing in a jump accompanied by a little scream. Next, make a habit of letting out a sorrow-filled heavy exhale whenever you touch her breasts. It should convey a sense of loss and debilitating sadness stopping just short of tears. Once this has begun to work it's magic, let yourself get caught starring at her chest. When she sees you, glance at her eyes and look away saying something like, "Wow. We are really getting old, aren't we?" Feel free to kick it up a notch by talking about how hot girls with fake boobs are. Once she begins to wear sweaters in August, you've got her right where you want her. Start clipping out adds for breast augmentation from your local newspaper and discretely leave them tucked into her personal possessions: books, car sun visor, bra. When she comes to you broken and ruined, you step in and save the day, and probably her life as well, by offering her the best rack a credit card can buy.

Your Friend,
Jason Adair the Unlicensed Therapist