Proximity Alert

Q: Why do people you love hurt you?

A: Ah, the classic conundrum!

Let me answer your question with another question, dear reader: Who else is going to hurt you -- people you hate?

I'm assuming here that you're relatively normal and don't go out of your way to surround yourself with people whom you utterly despise? Are you making the age-old mistake of hanging out with pedophiles, necrophiliacs or perhaps Veronica?

If so, that's gonna be a problem, because those dudes will most likely rape you -- regardless of age, gender or pulse.

If that's not the case, then who else has access? You guessed it, the people you love!

So it's generally a matter of proximity.

It's probably true that your enemies would like nothing more than to punch you in the throat and push you into a pile of garbage while you're gagging for air. But if you don't let them close to you, collapsing your windpipe with a swift karate punch is simply not an option.

Honestly, the easiest way to not get hurt is to be cool like Fonzie (and myself) and not care about anything.

[starts jukebox with a casual bump of the elbow]

Eeeeeeh!


PS: I would be remiss in my duty if I didn't also mention the possibility that the people you love do, indeed, hate you. Perhaps they are the types that subscribe to "keep your enemies close"?

I wouldn't advise you to get paranoid, but it's entirely possible that they are all out to get you. Perhaps they even have secret meetings about how to best make your life utter hell while you're out experimenting on your cats, or watching torture porn. You just never know for sure.

KEEP ALL YOUR EYES OPEN!

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I'm back!

Q: Harv, where have you been? We need you! You haven't answered my question about impotence and two girlfriends have left me in the meantime... one of which I quite liked.


A: Well, dear reader, this email reached me just as I arrived home from my various travels. I covered some of the most obscure corners of the globe, but let me give you a few highlights:

• Saving whales on the east coast of Antarctica, then sucking the delicious blubber direct from small stab wounds in their still-breathing bellies -- before sending them back into the ocean with their new-found weight loss and mobility. Of course this was all part of the marketing campaign for Gwenneth Paltrow's patented Cigarette Ash and Abalone diet. When you see the TV spots, you'll understand.
• Winning the confidence of famously skittish male Ferret Monkeys in the Amazon and being the first to talk to them about their long-standing misogyny issues in a time of a declining female population. Turns out it was just a misunderstanding.
• Wooing one of the tribeswomen of the Alaskan Inupak tribes, and finally gaining acceptance after a courting process of 7 months. I was subsequently asked to perform a final feat of dedication to prove my worth. I was surprised to learn it involved plummeting to certain death off the precipice of a local cliff face. I was in love, so I agreed, and as I stepped off the edge, I had barely a notion of danger or regret in my head. At the last moment, my bride relented and grabbed my arm to stop me. It was too late and we both toppled off the cliff face. If it wasn't for her landing between the rocks and my own body, I can't imagine I would be writing this answer today.

Dear readers, this time the answer is simple: I'm back.

I'm heart broken and probably not the same man you knew; shooting off positive whims of wisdom at the drop of a hat. But I'm here again, at your service, and ready to answer your questions. Fire away!

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