Danger Dearest Strikes Back

Dear Danger,

I regularly join casual conversations between coworkers, then quickly monopolize (and eventually end) same by providing way too much unrelated information of a personal and/or disgusting nature. I do not see this as a problem, but apparently my insensitive coworkers do; they've started to ignore me, talk louder to keep me from interrupting, and even walk away when I speak. Now the only way I'm able to force a break in their conversations is to break wind i.e. fart. Trouble is, I don't know how to do this "on demand." I mean I can burp whenever I want, but farting, not so much. What can I do?

Radioactive Jam

Dear RaJa,

Many people are in your boat, and each and every one of them has benefited from my advice. So don't be left out! It sounds as if the real problem is that you're a one trick pony. Why stop at passing gas? Try shouting nonsense words or faking a seizure. Better yet, take a drama class and learn how to cry on demand. Crying is just dandy in many situations, and is generally regarded as the Swiss Army Knife of manipulation. See for yourself! Try it during heated discussions with your spouse or parents, during a performance review, when you want sex (why hello, pity fuck!), or when you just need extra attention to validate your existence. As a bonus, the friends you make in drama class will provide even more conversations for you to interrupt and control. Have fun!

Dear Danger,

My kids are the greatest thing that ever happened to me, but they came with a catch: they know exactly how to push my buttons. They want hot dogs when I feed them vegetables, they want to stay up when they are exhausted, and it is impossible to be punctual when all the "but I have to pee/find blankie/write a dissertation on the Bacon Rebellion/eat stale Cheetos I found on the floor before we go" start. Any advice on making things run more smoothly?

Janet

Dear Janet,

First, what the Hell kind of a name is Janet? Didn't anyone ever teach you how to sign a letter to a raving lunatic an advice columnist? Second, children confuse me. As a whole they are illogical jerks who give me hives. You should be asking my mom for advice. Third, she would tell you to grow a backbone and be the adult. My siblings and I didn't act up too much because we knew there were consequences. We weren't sure what they were, but we could hear the italicized font in her voice, and understood consequences were likely a fate worse than death. She was not above threatening to nail one foot to the floor so we could only run in circles, tan our hides and hang us by our toenails to dry, and stuff us in the engine compartment for the ride home. We were very well-behaved children who became well-adjusted adults after years of therapy. Fourth, you can always sell them on the Black Market and use the profits to buy a pretty, pretty pony.