Dr. Helpful or Nurse Loveless?

Dear Readers:

For this post, instead of answering one of your questions, I'm posing a question that I want you to answer.

Today at church the homily was about advice columns. At first, I was wondering where the priest was going with his fifteen minute introduction of Dear Abby's career, and the snippets of advice from her column were uninsightful, to say the least. But then he contrasted her advice style with that of a 1930s predecessor, "Miss Loveless."

Miss Loveless was actually a male editor who mockingly answered his writers. For example, a girl wrote that she was tired of being made fun of and, now that she was 16, wanted boyfriends. The one problem? She was born without a nose.

Now, had I received a letter from Noseless Nancy, my reply would involve several jokes like "I nose a few things you could do, pick one of them." (Nurse Chris, of course, would just suggest counseling.)

But this is exactly the kind of attitude the pastor decried this morning. Miss Loveless lacked empathy like Nancy lacked nostrils. I think the homily was specifically directed at me, and that the priest was trying to tell me that I need to change my ways. And that, like Miss Loveless, there's a problem with Nurse Chris's gender indentity issues.

What do you think? Should I refrain from any humor and give only Ann Landers-ish advice? Or do we outdo even Miss Loveless at her most lovelessness?

-- Dr. N

Asking About An Austrailian Avian-Adoring Arachnid

Dear Dr. Nello:

I ordered a giant bird-eating spider from Australia, but it was accidentally shipped to the house of my sister in New York. The postal service claims they left the open box in my sister's mud room. I don't think she likes spiders. What should I do?

-- Oops in Ohio

Dear Poos in Ohio:

If only I had answered this letter a week ago, I could have used a Halloween theme. That'll teach me to delay. To make up for it, I'll give you 13 things you can do.

1. Offer to send an industrial size pack of toilet paper, quadruple ply, to squash it.

2. At least now she won't have to worry about Lady Bird, be it that red cardinal that's always attacking it's reflection or the late wife of Lyndon Johnson.

3. Don't kids love cardboard boxes? What's she complaining about?

4. Tell her you actually bought an expensive japanese silver-winged cockamamie, and the spider must have crawled inside the box during shipment. Emphasive the expensiveness, and ask that she chip in to cover the loss.

5. Remind her that although she has a bird-eating spider, at least she doesn't have a boil on her face that will erupt causing thousands of tiny spiders to crawl all over her face, like that one girl in "Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark."

6. When she calls about the giant spider, act confused and say, "I didn't send a giant spider ... I just sent a regular size one. Are you shrinking?" Send some other giant things over the next few weeks; this could be the greatest non-April Fool's Day April Fools prank!

7. It's possible that this spider is Arachne or Anansi. Maybe she sould try talking to it.

8. Does she have a giant baby? A giant spider and a giant baby wrestling could be entertaining (or maybe just gross).

9. Refer her to Nurse Chris for counseling.

10. Send a cockatoo-eating python. She'll still hate the spider, but receiving the first two of a collectors series of bird-eating animals might satisfy her.

11. Get a nuclear bird. I don't really know what a nuclear bird is, but someone on Flickr has a picture of one. Anyway, if she feeds this bird to the spider, and the spider bites someone, that person will get both spider and bird powers. (Or they'll die from the radiation. Best to let someone not in the family test it first).

12. Or better yet, just get a giant bird. I mean, birds eat spiders, so giant birds should eat giant spiders, right? This could be a problem if the giant bird also eats children, so check the label first.

13. Don't worry, Obama will take care of it, just like her gas and mortage.

-- Dr. N

ANNOUNCING ... 2012

Disappointed with the results of the 2008 elections, Dr. Nello and Nurse Chris have decided they need to take action for this nation's political future. They're officially announcing their intent to possibly run for president and vice president of the United States.

Explaining their desire to explore the notion of maybe seeking the highest office, Dr. Nello explains, "Originally, we were deterred by our lack of executive experience, but as was shown this year, experience is like that creepy-beard Skittles commerical: irrelevant." (When it was pointed out to the bloggers that each candidate this year was either a senator or a governor, Dr. Nello said, "Don't be distracted by those distractions!")

Nurse Chris adds, "We feel confident about winning if we actually go through with this, because it would be a historical first, electrifying voters. I would be the first hermaphroditic tranny to be #2 in the nation!" Nurse Chris then snickered at saying "number two."

"Of course," Dr. Nello interjects, "I might get to busy or forget or something. But I've really put a lot of thought into it this last hour."

Nurse Chris mused on a few simple, vague campaign slogans: "Probably Could," "Breakfast First," "Change Hope's Diaper" and "Counseling."

Dr. Nello and Nurse Chris immediately suspended their campaign until further notice.