Coke, my love – I need your acerbic wisdom.

Recently, I noticed that a old friend from high school was finally on Facebook. I felt very close to her in high school – she was one of the few intelligent, seemingly aware peers I had. After graduation, we went our separate ways – I moved out to LA and she stayed in our hometown, but I remembered her fondly. Of course, I immediately friend-requested her. In response to my friend request, she wrote several angry messages to me, detailing how I had “talked shit” about her in high school and “tried to fuck [her] brother.” She refused to friend me.

While it is true that I dated her brother for a month (no fucking), and was gossipy in high school, it has been almost 10 years since we graduated and I have certainly matured well beyond the petty shit of those old days. The whole thing really surprised me – she would have been the last person I would have thought to hold on to something like this for so long.

I wrote back and apologized for being an asshole, citing in my defense that it was stereotypical high school behavior, that it has been a long time, and that I am a different person now. She says, “personality is forever.”

I know I should let this go – she is the one with the problem and I have done all I can to make amends. But I can’t seem to reconcile what I know intellectually about this situation, and the hurt and confusion I feel. If I’m honest with myself, I guess I feel isolated from intelligent life here in LA and perhaps was overzealous in reaching out. Sometimes I wish I was as emotionally void as Spock (sorry for the nerd ref).

So what do I do? What do I not do? How do I kick myself in the head without yoga training? Lay it on me, baby.

Thank you. Really. In advance, and for everything else you’ve given.

You’re welcome, babe. I’m raising my cocktail for ya.

So yeah, just let this shit go. You say that you know she’s the one with the problem, but you’re not taking it far enough. The real truth is far simpler. This isn’t about you to begin with.

Quit trying to reconcile your intellect and your emotions. You’re only feeling hurt because you’re taking this personally. Don’t take shit personally. Especially this.

Your former friend doesn’t know you at all. She hasn’t known you for a damn decade. Even then, you were both bratty little girls. So fucking what? Personality isn’t forever. Hell, it’s practically seasonal.

Those remarks are just displaced anger. She was lashing out at an easy target. You make a great scapegoat for whatever shit she’s got going on with her brother, which leads me back to my main point. It’s not about you.

That being said, you’ve got to deal with your bigger issue. This is a city of ten million people. You’re an asshole if you think you’re isolated from intelligent life in Los Angeles. Either that, or you’re just too lazy to go find a few fellow nerds. There’s something for everyone here, and you don’t gotta own a yoga mat to find your way.

You’re a bit too inwardly focused right now because you’ve been doing a lot of reflective thinking lately. That’s fine. No biggie. Happens to us all. I suggest you head on up to the Griffith Park Observatory and shift that focus outward.

Go fall in love with LA again.

Cheers.

How do you make any money doing coke/other shit every day? Are you like a celebrity or something?

I work my ass off, and I have fun when I’ve earned it. I sure as hell don’t do drugs every day, and when it comes down to it, I really don’t do all that much blow.

A few lines with friends a few times a month is a less expensive habit than cigarettes if you’re a girl. Hell, a good tab of ecstasy lasts all night for the price of a couple of cocktails.

Shit, if you want to break down the budget on a wild night of fun, the real money gets burned on hotel suites and private tables. It’s not about finding good drugs, it’s about keeping good company.

And fuck being a celebrity, especially by today’s definition. That shit is nothing but hassle. I’ll take a velvet rope over a red carpet any day of the week.

I’m a 24 year old man. I haven’t been in a serious relationship in 5 years and apart from a handful of one night stands, I have not initiated any sort of sexual relationship in that time.

I have dropped out of three college degrees, one in a prestigious school. Every one of them was in a subject I had a great interest in initially. They are all still things I follow but in a less stringent, more dilletantish, manner.

I don’t believe in any sort of meaning or importance to life. Not since I was a child. Furthermore, my own existence means almost nothing to me. Which is both liberating and terrifying.

Reading this back, I suppose the obvious question might be why don’t I kill myself. Well, I don’t think I could. There are a small, faithful group of family and friends who love me. A friend of mine, many years ago, confided in me (with a level of detail that pains me still) that he wanted to die and how he would do it. I never want to make anyone feel like that did.

I’m not sure what advice I’m looking for. “I can’t go on … I’ll go on” seems to be it.  I’m not medicated and I don’t really want to be. I’m not convinced that waiting for the people who care about me to die first is a great idea either.

I guess I’d just like a sober, critical eye to tell me what is what.

A man at twenty-four? Don’t get ahead of yourself, big guy. It sounds like you still fit squarely into the boy category. That’s fine. Nothing wrong with an extended adolescence, but that may be the very thing causing the problem.

You’ve got no real responsibilities, no reason to get up in the morning, no fire in your belly. It’s not that you’re depressed. You’re just bored and well educated enough to wallow in existential angst.

If you wore high collars and drank things like absinthe, one might just say you were suffering from ennui. I don’t know. That shit requires style points, and I can’t tell if you qualify.

Tell you what. How about you quit your day job and hop on the next flight to Haiti. Spend the rest of 2010 helping rebuild. If that idea has too much hair on its balls, then scale it back until you’re comfortable.

At the very least, how about you change up your game by volunteering at homeless shelters, children’s hospitals, or whatever you’ve got nearby.

Do something good. Serve a purpose. Help your fellow man. Trust me. It’ll make you feel better than that medication you don’t need anyway.

I have a dilemma: life or death. Is it worth living a life with a disease that will only hinder my quality of life? My hopes and dreams? Or should I simply cut my losses and call it quits?

This one is entirely up to you.

Most folks tend to skew towards life, even after life’s quality is significantly diminished. Then again, when faced with certain brutal realities about the frailty of the human condition, it’s normal to think about these kinds of things.

If your disease is progressive and terminal, it’s perfectly understandable to game out the various scenarios in which you’d prefer not to stick around.

Unbearable is a word that means something different to each of us, and after a period of rational and informed reflection, if you came up with an end-of-life plan that was dignified and then shared that information with your friends and family, I’m sure the general response would be one of solemn acceptance.

I hope you stick around, though. If it were me I’d do my damnedest to adapt to whatever fucked up shit got dropped on my world, and I’d hold out as long as motherfuckingly possible.

The alternative is inevitable, but entirely undesirable.

have you ever had a girl crush? not necessarily in a sexual way; i don’t want to sleep with her (have explored my bi-sexual side and have decided the dick is the only thing for me), but she is GORGEOUS. i don’t want to fuck her, but i want to be around her all the time. and, i kind of want to be her. we are casual “girl friends,” meet for happy hour, do coke occasionally together wherein i run my mouth too much and try to mother her. ugh, what is that? help me.

Have I ever had a girl crush? Absolutely. Have I ever had a non-sexual obsession with another girl? That’d be a no. You’re a little bit crazy there, single white female.

Do yourself a favor. Don’t go saying any of this shit out loud, okay? That’s a one way ticket to awkward town. Just chill the fuck out and recognize that you’re tweaking. No big deal. You got a little whiff of her ass and it made your head spin a bit. You’re just dizzy. It’ll pass.

“First let me just say that yes, coke is actually not that bad. In fact, alcohol and tobacco are significantly worse than coke and weed. Anyone who says differently is misinformed or has an agenda.”

Do you really not see the difference with these? It is not about level of harm – everyone can figure out that alcohol is “worse” in physiological terms, kills more people and harms more families. This is not the difference, because otherwise you would only be advocating degrees of harm (or as you prefer to call it, damage). The difference is that there is no line of cocaine that you did that did not come from harm to someone else. And by using / abusing this you are supporting the harm done. Cocaine, as an illegal drug, is not manufactured in factories like alcohol or cigarettes. There is always human suffering involved. This is the real choice that you make and that you advocate when making libertine statements about coke – somewhere, somehow some person suffered in exchange for your high.

I immensely enjoy your blog, and would prefer to send my own comment on a positive note, but this just seems out of line with your otherwise educated and well thought out opinions. Before you dissect me – I am not a Christian, or even straight edge or on a mission. I just believe if you advocate something so openly here and which is something I feel strongly about, I should let my voice be heard as well.

You make an excellent point.

Now give back your shoes, clothes, and pretty much anything you’ve ever bought cheap at Wal Mart.

You want to see human suffering? Go hang out in the cotton fields and the third world sweatshops where most all of your garments and trinkets originated. That’s right. Somewhere, somehow some person suffered in exchange for your fruit-of-the-loom undies.

I’m not making light of your point. It’s valid, but don’t kid yourself into thinking that legalities play the slightest role in the first world’s exploitation of the third. Wake up and smell the Latin American agricultural commodity. My blow is no more politically tainted than your bowl of sugar.

Oh, and that human suffering I exchanged for my high? Courtesy of the United States Government. Coca eradication efforts by the US have amounted to little more than biological warfare against an indigenous population. The War on Drugs is the only pure evil here. Our government should be ashamed and embarrassed at the colossal amounts of time and money wasted trying to legislate morality.

Prohibition is what causes suffering. There’s nothing inherently evil about the Coca plant. It’s the assholes who make it illegal that cause all the problems.

Hey I’ve never really done this before, but I need some advice.

There’s this girl, cliche I know, but I fell for her fast. And for some time, I was under the impression that the feeling was mutual. We went on like this for about a month just flirting no problems.

But then she asked me if I was “developing feelings”. Of course, I said yes, but when I asked her if she felt the same: “No, I guess I don’t have much to feel”.

I freak and ask for that “let’s be friends” as a last second decision. I know, dumb. But we agreed. And I thought I could let it go, but I didn’t. I talked to all my friends about it. They told me you should be straight forward with her. So one night I figured I would be. I told her how I felt.

She told me she didn’t feel the same. Still. And that she tried to like me, but she just couldn’t find it. So after a long talk, I decided I needed some space. I realize being around her isn’t healthy, for either of us. So I said adieu and she said “laters” because she’s not good with goodbyes.

Issue solved? I wish. Ever since, I’ve been replaying that scene in my head. I know its something everyone does, but I need a slap of reality. How the fuck do I get her out of my head? Some people say the depression is oozing off me, but I don’t know if I can feel it anymore. My friend Sam told me to tell you for some good advice. Thoughts?

Your friend Sam pointed you in my direction, eh?

Well then, allow me to quickly sum up the very simple message that has taken every last ounce of Sam’s willpower not to scream at the top of his lungs every time you mention this girl:

Quit being such a fucking pussy and move the fuck on already!

There. You’re welcome, Sam.

Oh wait, you think he needs a little more? Okay. Here goes:

Listen, asshole. A month of unrequited flirting is barely enough to establish a low grade infatuation. At best, you’re getting over a silly teenage crush. That entitles you to a week’s worth of unbearably shitty break-up music and one round of drinks from a close friend. That’s it.

It’s time for you to man the fuck up, because you blew past your Phil Collins quota the second Sam handed you off to me like a torch at the 2010 Whiny Little Bitch Olympics. Go home, wash the hurt out of your butt, and put on a clean shirt for the next game of poker.

Been meaning to write you last week, but it seemed the problem worked itself out until last night…

I’m seeing a guy who’s told me he doesn’t want a girlfriend. That’s fine. One night we’re making out, and clothes are coming off; He starts to tell me how special I am/ that I’m the only girl he’s seeing…all while his monstrous cock is showing through his boxers.

He’s being honest with me, so I decide to tell him he’s not the only guy I’m dating. He recoils, and says he can’t see me if that’s the case. Baffled, I retort and mention he didn’t want a girlfriend. When I ask him if he wants us to be casual/exclusive, he throws it back on me to say it’s not his decision. He told me to get in touch with him “when I come around/know what I want.” I get furious over it because I like him.

Next day he apologizes and says that he wants to see where this goes. We call a truce. We had sex. We continued to enjoy each others company. Which brings me to last night. I saw little claw marks on his arm. He tells me a girl did it. He says, “what? you’re doing you’re thing and I’m doing my thing.” He’s right, so I remain calm, and leave his house. I can’t let him see how angry/jealous I’m getting over this- although I have been going on harmless dates with other guys.

On my home we argue over BBM. He says “this isn’t melrose place, I’m not part of your dating pool, hope your dating works out for you, etc” During this argument he says that he was joking about the scratch marks. He wants to remain friends but has pretty shut me down once again. Ouch. My therapist says he’s playing games. I don’t know whether I’m being played, if I am really hurting him, etc.

I’m losing sleep over this shit, help me…

Okay. What do you want here?

It’s obvious that you’re both totally crushing on each other. You’re also both riddled with a fairly common flavor of insecurity that for the sake of politeness I’ll call naivete instead of immaturity.

You’re both acting too cool for school, all the while neither of you is willing to face the self-evident fact that each of you is vulnerable. You’re losing sleep over this shit because you actually like him.

Own that shit. Be proud of it. Don’t be afraid. Based on his behavior, I can pretty much guarantee he’s upside-down for you too, so all you have to do is be the strong one and call shenanigans on all the bullshit.

Just tell him. You think he’s fucking fantastic and you love his monstrous cock. You wouldn’t mind being his girlfriend for a while, and you’re not ashamed to admit it.

Be straightforward with your feelings, but cushion the message with how cool a fucking chick you are. You’re not asking to be his girlfriend. You’re just letting him know you’d make a damn good one.

When his head stops spinning, he’ll have no choice but to agree. Even if he shoots you down (and he probably won’t), it’s no big deal, because you will have been emotionally honest. You will have been the brave one.

All those bullshit defense mechanisms just add up to a pile of arguments and hurt feelings anyways, so you might as well just put yourself out there. Don’t ever fear being vulnerable. Jealousy is for the weak, and having something emotionally at stake is a good thing.

Remember, you’ve got nothing to lose but what you would have already lost, so be strong and just fucking tell him how you feel.

Good luck!

Dear Hater,

I am religious and I am tolerant of others’ beliefs as they may differ from my own. I have really enjoyed reading your work here but I take exception to being labeled a dumbass because of my religion. And, yay your bookshelf, no I don’t have sacred texts lined up like cookbooks at my house, and I haven’t since I was in college, but I took several courses in theology and several more in philosophy so um yeah I think that I can claim to have taken a pretty robust critical look at my beliefs. Especially considering that I was a lifelong atheist until a couple of years ago (long after those college days). I was never such an atheist, though, as to line up for any bigotry.

So, you don’t need my tolerance (below). I don’t need yours either, but I would certainly hold you in greater esteem if you could spare us your bigoted assumptions about people of faith.

I guess if you live in Los Angeles, you are ok with Jews as long as they are not observant? Pretty much anybody willing to stay out of a church? Probably Buddhists too and maybe Unitarians if they are cool? You really don’t see any inconsistency there?

Maybe you should read more, if you don’t think that religious people examine their own beliefs, if you think that we just sign off our self-determination in exchange for a set of easy answers. You could start with Saint Augustine, “The Literal Interpretation of Genesis.” It is a real eye-opener.

God, you people are boring. I’m gonna go masturbate.