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Ask Amritsar if the Butt Headgear Fits [ARNS]

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Dear Amritsar,

I’m a nice guy, you know. Whenever I swear at a homeless person on the street for approaching me for money, I always wish them a nice day afterwards. I have never gotten a co-worker fired so I could get their cubicle. Well, okay, once, but it was really close to the bathroom, and, anyway, I felt really bad after I did it even as I reached for the toilet paper. I hardly ever shoot puppies, and never in the face.

Once I did kind of…crash my ex-girlfriend’s wedding. Sure, I stole people’s drink tickets, but honestly, they were just lying there on tables…or in people’s pants pockets…or in one case a particularly difficult to open with one hand purse – people made it so easy it was like they were inviting me to take the tickets!

I got buzzed, which was good. Then, sloshed, which was really good. Then rip-roaring, which was a mixed bag. I was having a great time singing “Inna Godda Davida,” even though the wedding wasn’t set up for Karaoke…and the song that was playing was “Unchained Melody.” Later, I lost my balance and knocked the groom into the wedding cake. Oops!

My ex demands that I move to another continent and never come back. Killjoy. I was just trying to have a good time. Am I the asshat?

Albert in Alberta

Hey, Babe,

I try my best not to judge the people who submit questions; their lives must already be an awful mess if they are writing to a newspaper for life advice, and I wouldn’t want to make matters worse. I am most definitely not an asshat; to be honest, I’m not so vaguely disgusted by the image.

Because not judging can be hard with some people, I get a cookie every time I bite my tongue. To be sure, the pain reduces the pleasure I get from eating the cookie, but such are the sacrifices I am willing to make for my readers.

If you are looking to be judged, might I suggest you look at the AITA discussion forum on Dedredheadit? Trust me, you will find more righteous judgment there than in the Old Testament!

Dear Amritsar,

I live in the best neighbourhood. Seriously, it’s got, like, houses big enough that entire basketball teams could live in them – yes, including coaches and trainers – and, and, and trees and shit. It’s a great place to live. Except for that family that moved in last month.

You could tell just by looking at them that they wouldn’t fit in. (Do I have to wink furiously at you for you to get what I’m implying, here?) So, I welcomed the newcomers to the neighbourhood in the traditional way: I put acid in the pipes of their lawn watering system. Then, when their lawn inexplicably (wink wink winkwinkwink) turned brown, I complained to the ratepayers association that they weren’t keeping up their property properly.

People who…look like they won’t fit in are often kind of slow when it comes to furious winking. Fortunately, I have plenty of other ways to welcome them to the neighbourhood, ways that become increasingly less subtle.

Hey! I’m just trying to help my family. Am I the asshat here?

Eric in America

Hey, Babe,

I get the feeling that you want me to say no, that this is a perfectly natural thing for an adult to do. I am not here to validate your need for approval. Get help.

Dear Amritsar,

My neighbours are bloodthirsty monsters who gave me a bloody nose. So, I did what anybody in my position would do: I sent one of the most advanced militaries in the world into their homeland to burn every building to the ground and kill everybody they didn’t recognize. And everybody we did recognize. Everybody, really. Why take chances?

Gevalt! I’m just trying to help my people. Am I the asshat?

Bibi in Bethlehem

Hey, Babe,

Yes! Yes! Gord, yes! You are the asshat!

Send your relationship problems to the Alternate Reality News Service’s sex, love and technology columnist at questions@lespagesauxfolles.ca. Amritsar Al-Falloudjianapour is not a trained therapist, but she does know a lot of stuff. AMRITSAR SAYS: Peanut butter is not a proper disinfectant. Allow me to repeat: peanut butter is a terrible disinfectant! Your child is trying to confuse you on the subject so that later he can lick the peanut butter off his knee. Do not be fooled! Your child is either a peanut butter addict or a vampire; as a parent, you have a responsibility to steer your child away from such anti-social tendencies. Do it. Do it now!