For Christmas, I told my mom I wanted “All the Devils Are Here.” She wants the George Bush biography. I drank a bottle of wine trying to keep quiet so I don’t spoil thanksgiving by bitching about politics. I may have let a comment slip along the lines of, “you want to learn the inner-workings of bush’s mind? buy a blank spiral notebook” and I’m pretty sure I called him a war criminal. My mom doesn’t understand why or how anyone could see him this way. I know I should have just shut up and let her ask for her damn book, but I feel over the past few years democrats have been far too passive and allowed the less-enlightened masses to believe whatever garbage sarah palin and the other idiots spew on fox news and reality tv.

I’ve already broken her heart by telling her I don’t want children and plan to move even further away than I have. Should I just bite my tongue and get more drunk?

I hate the holidays…

You had me right up until that last line. Why ya’ gotta hate?

Fuck, dude. You think you’ve got it Republican during the holidays? My folks have neighbors who could get George’s piece of shit book personally signed for your mom, and if I asked nicely, probably in her choice of crayon. Fox News is on twenty-four seven up in this bitch, and I still manage to have an absolute blast with my family.

You wanna know my secret? It’s easy. I know better than to feel responsible for the political opinions of my parents. They think differently than me, and I’m okay with it. I refuse to pit my family in a struggle of enlightenment versus ignorance.

They are who they are, and I love them unconditionally. I accept them unconditionally, because no matter what, they will always be my family.

Opinions come and go, and just because your mom has some shitty ones, you shouldn’t let it get in the way of the time you spend together.

I know it’s hard. Shit can drive you crazy sometimes, but you really have to see past the knee-jerk politics and recognize that the source of your response is purely emotional and entirely negative.

You are defending a position that you think is rational and right. Nope. If that were the case, you could do it calmly, without booze. It’s not that you’re wrong, and it’s not that on some level you’ve used reason, but whatever rationality your argument may have is subjugated by very heated emotion.

Next time you start bitching, take a step back and feel yourself reacting. Notice how it’s not coming from your rational mind. There’s inevitably a lot more going on, and whatever underlying anger you’re feeling is tied up in the fact that you’re dealing with family.

That’s the shit you gotta let go. It’s wasted emotion. It’s unprocessed negativity that you’re misdirecting into a regurgitated political sound bite. Fuck that shit. It serves no purpose other than to create more negativity.

This isn’t about you being right or wrong, either. Who gives a fuck? This is about you being in control of your own emotional state. You’re not. Instead, you’re getting hammered and mouthing off.

Listen, when it’s really important, you gotta do what you gotta do. Over the years, I’ve reversed my family’s position on gay marriage. I’ve talked them into being pro-choice. I’ve even managed to convince my mom that Sarah Palin is duplicitous and unqualified.

Where it counts and when it counts, I take the time to elevate the conversation above knee-jerk political talking-point bullshit and really change their minds, but you know what? Those conversations aren’t political. They’re philosophical, and I still know damn well that they’ll never vote anything other than Republican.

Also, that shit takes concerted effort and energy, so unless I’m willing to go the extra mile, I have a strict personal rule not to talk sex, religion, or politics around my family. I urge you to do the same. Ninety-nine percent of the time, you gotta let that shit go.

Quit feeling responsible for your mom’s opinions. Just enjoy her company.

Quoting your fun sized advice: “A man would also understand what it really means to settle.” I’m a man and I don’t know what you’re talking about, so what does it mean to settle, or should I ask a real man?

It’s a play on words, chief. Settling has both negative and positive cultural connotations within its various phrasings.

Too often, people with prince charming disease get freaked out about “settling down,” and they use the phrase “to settle for” when they should use the phrase “to settle into.”

In other words, both men and women who expect romantic perfection are terrified about becoming established in a relationship, and they confuse the notion of being satisfied with less with merely being satisfied.

what is the appropriate and tactful reply when a friend wants to know what you think of their band and they’re really not your thing?  i’m not the arbiter of all that’s cool and hip and i’m not aiming for “constructive criticism”, just a polite and encouraging response.  thanks.

Actually, your self deprecating remark is already a good place to start. Just add a noncommittal thumbs up, and you’re good to go.

Try something like, “I’m not the arbiter of all that’s cool and hip, but I think you guys have a really unique sound, and it’s clear you have a lot of passion.”

That should do it. It’s polite and encouraging, but it doesn’t mean a fucking thing.

If he keeps squeezing you for approval to the point where it gets annoying, it’s not at all rude to go ahead and let him know that you’re not really into them.

You’d actually be doing him a favor. Sometimes you just gotta train emotionally needy artists not to beg for validation.

What would you say to someone who told you that a thing could be true and not true at the same time?

Yes, context is everything, and this question is as broad as the sword the next guy on the street keeps in his pants (just ask him), but let’s assume we’re talking on a bit grander scale than the ex who tried to back-paddle out of a premature “I love you.” Give me some premium-grade existential shit.

I’d say buy me a drink, because after a contradiction like that, anything goes.

(There are ten people on the planet who will get a joke that obscure, but fuck it. I’m home for Thanksgiving and bored out of my skull. This is what sobriety and insomnia does to me. As for whoever sent the question, I encourage that kind of ridiculousness for the next seventy-two hours.)

Mike Rowe or Ben Bailey?

Dirty Jobs or Cash Cab? Really? Even if I let those two double team me, I doubt they’d keep my interest after the first commercial break.

That square-jawed “Aw shucks, ma’am” likability is great for hosting The Discovery Channel, but trust me, sex with on-air talent gets really fucking boring unless you’re in a room full of mirrors.

On the other hand, Mike Rowe strikes me as an old-school pussy hound, and after some of the shit I’ve seen him do on Dirty Jobs, he might be the type who really puts the spit shine on your junk.

I guess I’ll go with Mike. Still, it’d be a little too much like doing one of my dad’s friends. You know, the good looking one that sells cars or some shit.

So I’ve got a mad crush on this girl who lives on my hall. We’ve been hanging out and stuff, probably to the point where she thinks I’m just her friend. And I’m bad at picking up signals, but I get the feeling that there could be something here. (This is coming from a guy with zero, zero, zero experience. But I’ve already complained about that for years. It’s time to make a change.)

We went to Harry Potter last night and blazed together. Unfortunently we were with a bigger group as well of mostly her friends so I couldn’t try anything. That sounds stupid to me because I have no idea what I’d ‘try’.

So what’s the best option for me right now as far as making the next move? Remember…I am a total loser who hasn’t had any experience with girls and somehow I made it to college a virgin, because I’m that cool. I’m not solely out for sex, though; I like her.

Dude. You’re fucking precious. I just wanna tussle your hair and pinch your cheeks and shit.

Listen up, this isn’t about “trying” anything. Don’t make this about your virginity. Nobody gives a fuck about your lack of experience except for you, and trust me, you’re surrounded by virgins.

I can’t tell you how to make a move here, kid. That shit is on you. Accept your vulnerability, accept the possibility of rejection, and then just be brave and fucking do it. Making a move is an organic, in-the-moment kinda thing, but I will say this, if you think there’s a romantic spark between you and this girl, you’re the one who’s gonna have to acknowledge it.

Be sweet about it. Be honest. Use whatever words or actions that come to you naturally in that moment of bravery, but the gist of it doesn’t have to be any more complicated than, “Hey, I like you, and I think you like me too. Here we go!”

Do it with a kiss. Do it with your own words. However you do it, get it fucking done. Don’t worry about what happens next. For better or worse, the heat of that moment will become self sustaining once you get it started, unless of course you fuck it up by overthinking shit.

Whatever. You’re gonna do what you’re gonna do.

Tell you what, though, you’re not a total loser. That much is for sure. You just need to get out of your own head. Quit complaining, and savor the experience you’re about to have.

Learning this shit is ten times more exciting than already knowing how to do it.

Fucking enjoy yourself.