Sage Advice

sirbombalot asked: Would you rather have someone pour mildly hot tea on your crotch every morning at 7:00 AM to wake you up, or be attacked by fifteen squirrels once every day before you went to bed?

First off, thanks for the question Tim. You’re a scholar and a gentleman, and your consistent contribution to my internet dealings and meditations is a delight.

Both of these options are tests of my physical prowess—an aspect of my being that is rarely tested as I’m more of a stay-inside-and-avoid-anything-involving-physical-activity kind of guy. Here, we’re putting my endurance on trial.

The first choice, being woken up by mildly hot tea at 7:00 AM (something that would actually be difficult for someone to do as I wake up at 5:00 AM every day, but I’ll play along and pretend I get up at 7:00 AM for the sake of our game), would be irritating to no end. I’m sure it would be something I would never get used to either. Do you know what hazy, dream-like feeling you get when you wake up about half an hour before you need to, and then you half-sleep until your alarm goes off? That feeling is absolutely amazing. The idea of it being ruined by lukewarm tea infuriates me to no end. The big question here is this: who is dumping this tea? Is it a family member? Is it you? Is it the British? The answer to this question could easily change my choice, but we can’t linger on the unknown, can we?

Our second choice, being attacked by fifteen squirrels right before my slumber, is another test of my physical endurance. After all, there isn’t much I can do about fighting a swarm of squirrels off me. I could certainly try to punch them, but I would only anger them further, making the entire ordeal much more painful. As such, it would be wise to simply take the punishment from the almighty squirrel Gods (which are the only real Gods, by the way) and endure. I actually like the idea of this event happening right before bed. It could use up the small amount of energy I have left at the end of the day, putting me to rest easier.

I have to pick the squirrel option. I adore my hazy morning moments far more than my restless getting-to-bed moments. This choice comes down to the time of day. I’d rather be bothered at night than the morning. 

-Matthew Fugere

Also, Tim

sirbombalot asked: Would you rather get $2000 right now, but every time you cought, you cough bees, effective for the rest of your life, or be able to breathe underwater, but gain 100 pounds?

What makes this question so difficult is how it attacks my daily routine so viciously no matter what I choose. I cough often. I walk often (making the extra hundred pounds very difficult to deal with). At first glance, this feels like a lose-lose. However, as usual, let us closely examine each scenario.

In the bee and money instance, the monetary value in the short term is certainly nice. I’m not a wealthy man, so the idea of an instant two grand is very appealing. Two grand can pay for a lot like bills, groceries, a Karate class at the Y, or a classy massage, but I’ve never been a guy who only stares down the short term. Two grand in the long run isn’t a massive fortune compared to the disability of coughing bees. I don’t like coughing in general. It hurts, you guys. I don’t like bees, either. So coughing bees isn’t ideal. Only under two conditions could coughing bees be worth the two grand I get:

1. I can control the bees, forcing them to attack my enemies
2. The bees leave honeycombs in my body, making my circulatory system a goldmine filled with delicious honey that I could easily sell for massive profit

Let’s discuss the underwater breathing. I love to swim. It’s an activity I don’t get to do often, but when I do get to swim, it’s an absolute delight. And how long can I really hold my breath? Two minutes tops? That’s not nearly long enough, you guys. Being able to breathe underwater would basically mean infinite fun whenever I go to the public pool. Not to mention the amazing pranks I’d be able to pull off messing with lifeguards by floating to the top of the water, facedown. Remember that movie where that dorky kid pretended to drown so he could kiss the older, attractive lifeguard lady? It would be like that for me basically 24/7 (I realize as an adult, that situation might be quite creepy, but I would certainly use my powers for legal good). Then again, she probably wouldn’t be able to get me out of the water because I’d be an extra hundred pounds heavier. I don’t even have to say my actual weight for anyone to understand just how massive of a change that would be. Any normal body movement you’re used to would become a strenuous task. Unless, of course, the weight is very dense and a Wolverine-like situation is going on (for the uninitiated, Wolverine is very small person whose bones are covered in metal, so he retains his small stature despite being hundreds of pounds heavier).

Ultimately, each choice is a complete gamble because so many little details are left off. That’s what makes the question good, though; making me create a reality from the choices is the whole point. So, with that in mind, I’m going to have to go with the bees and just hope I’ll be able to sell my blood-honey for money.  

Remember, if you’re brave enough, you can ask me a question just like Sirbombalot here. Thanks for reading.

-Matthew Fugere

Leave A Number All Up In My Box!

Leave the number to the question you want me to answer in my box and I might answer it ;)

1. Don’t lie: how far could you throw a puppy?
2. What’s up with France?
3. Hey, can you read?
4. Is left a matter of perspective or is it a static idea?
5. If you took your age and subtracted ten, added four, multiplied by zero, and got a D in Algebra II back in tenth grade, do you think your father will ever forgive you for taking up tap-dancing?
6. Which would be better: being able to smell colors or being able to taste sound or probably cancer if you can do either?
7. Do koalas deserve human rights like you and I, or should they only get the koala rights that are guaranteed to them by law?
8. Please answer with either “yes” or “mustard”: Is Africa a country?
9. Remember that time in gym class when that person did that thing to you that was embarrassing but you laughed it off like it was no big deal? 
10. Was it actually a big deal?
11. Do you still have fever dreams about it?
12. You want me to stop bringing it up?
13. Okay, I will, but would you mind answering the next question?
14. .
15. Why don’t you believe in 14?
16. You don’t think 14 is a number?
17. Why do you think that?
18. Should elevators be replaced with fireman-poles and ladders?
19. What’s worse: Hitler or baby Hitler or robot Hitler?
20. Who’s the prettiest: Hitler or baby Hitler or robot Hitler?
21. What does your index finger smell like right now?
22. Do you think baby bears should replace sadness?
23. If you could replace every letter in the acronym “LOL” with a new letter, which letters would they be and what would they mean and are seriously going to answer this question, it’s absolutely ridiculous and holy shit, you’re actually answering it, what is your problem, I can’t believe you’re actually answering this question?
24. Be really really really honest: Would I make a good Mad Men?
25. What happened at the end of Lost (and don’t spoil anything or reference previous events of the show)? 
26. What’s better: Facebook or llamas not being able to read?
27. Can you believe Becky said that thing you wore didn’t look good?
28. I know right, isn’t that absurd?
29. What’s the best part of the sky (and don’t say clouds, silly!)?
30. Didn’t we agree not to say clouds?
31. Why would you do this to me?
32. Should Alaska be given back to Russia in exchange for an unlimited supply of bears and vodka?
33. Who is your favorite international policy expert?
34. I know right, isn’t he so dreamy?
35. Are you asking him out to the dance?
36. No, you should, but if he says no, can I?
37. What color is your favorite pair of underwear and can I have them?
38. Why do they smell like shame, fear, and… mayonnaise?
39. Should mustard be white instead of yellow?
40. Should cats be arrested for larceny?
41. Should larceny mean stripping in public?
42. Should cats be stripping in public?
43. Should people named Bill or George just change their names to Gillian or Sebastian?
44. What are you doing later tonight?
45. Can you meet me where that homeless guy peed on us?
46. No, not that one, don’t you remember the one who peed on us and told us he was the penguin-lord?
47. Wanna buy a house with me?
48. How many questions should there be in the universe?
49. Do you think 50 is a good number?
50. China?
51. This statement is false.

Reblog if u <3 questions ;)

-Matthew Fugere

sirbombalot asked: Would you rather have a magical wallet that you could pull $3.50 from a day, once a day, but would kill one raccoon every time you did, or have a swimming pool filled with Jell-O, but your least favorite flavor, and lose one really close friend in exchange for the pool? (No maintenance is required for the pool, and you do not know any raccoons who are dying.)

Upon initial gaze, this one seems like an easy answer. However, as well as you and I both know, these things are best determined by talking them out.

Let’s address the magical wallet first. The idea of getting free money every single day is incredibly tempting. $3.50 a day? In a year, that would be $1277.50 for absolutely no work other than simply opening a tiny fold of leather (I know it’s inappropriate of me to assume it would be made of leather, but it’s a go-to material for such accessories). There is the question of inflation, though. Times are tough (which is why an extra grand a year would be so great), but what if they get tougher? What if inflation gets so bad like the German depression of the early 20^th century? You can find photos of German children literally playing with money because it was so worthless. People would rather use it as fuel in a fire than attempt to save it. If the money became so worthless that it would only be good in a fire, it would be nothing but a burden to carry around a magical wallet. I live in Virginia; it may get frigid during the winter months, but it never gets cold enough for me to need to burn anything. Aside from the economy turning my magical wallet into a magical non-renewable source of fuel, the issue of theft immediately comes to mind. I’ve never been robbed, but if word got out that I was carrying a magical wallet that gave out free money, the chances of me being brutally attacked to acquire such a gift would exponentially rise. It would be quite likely people would discover it, too. I would inevitably have to explain to a friend or loved one why I suddenly had free money sitting about. They could easily let such information slip to an acquaintance, and the next thing you know, someone I’m loosely connected to wants to murder me for my free money. Then we have to consider the raccoons. I have nothing against raccoons, and one dead one a day doesn’t seem like such a loss. However, I would certainly use this wallet every day. That’s 365 raccoons a year. That’s certainly enough raccoons to affect a concentrated ecosystem. In other words, if the raccoons killed are based off proximity to me, I could have a drastically negative impact on the environment around me as everything that exists in an ecosystem is important to maintain the stability of said ecosystem.

The Jell-O situation is far more immediately dire than the wallet one. Having a close friend die simply to acquire a swimming pool filled with something I’m not even particularly fond of would not be ideal. There is a positive to it, though: I could easily empty the pool and fill it with water. Then I would have a great pool to use during these blistering summers. Even if I did keep the Jell-O, I could easily sell it as a great novelty to some eccentric rich person who likes that particular flavor of Jell-O (rich people will pay silly amounts of money for silly things they don’t actually need or want). I could then use my newly acquired affluence to get any new friend I wanted. I could also use it to fund my ex-close-friend’s funeral and support his family through such trying times. By the way, I’m assuming that if I can’t empty this pool filled with Jell-O, it’s because the pool has some kind of magical property like the wallet that automatically fills it with Jell-O. That’s a novelty that could go for a lot of money to the right buyer.

Alas, when you get right down to it, I don’t want lose a close friend for something as trivial as money. Much like your response regarding a social dynamic between you and a cactus, I find myself too caught up with the bonds of friendship to sacrifice it for something I don’t absolutely need to be happy. I would have to choose the wallet. And, of course, I would use it sparingly and secretly as to not attract attention and avoid hurting a fragile ecosystem. 

-Matthew Fugere

sirbombalot asked: Would you rather have someone turn a can of air upside-down and spray that magical freezing spray stuff on your toes every night before you went to bed, or have the weather change to extremely rainy every time you went to the beach or an amusement park, ruining the day for not only yourself, but everyone else?

Now this is interesting. It’s the difference between causing bodily harm to myself and emotional harm to others. Let’s think about this.

We all know that the crazy freezing stuff in cans of air is insanely cold and terrible in nearly every respect. I’ve actually had that stuff sprayed in my mouth; tasting it is a far more foul experience than your other senses are capable of comprehending. The worst part about these cans of air is how easy it is just to play with them. If you give me a new can of air, it’ll be completely depleted within the day. I’ll just spray everything I can reach, occasionally tipping it upside down to create the brutal blizzard contained in the can. That is aside the question, however. Pardon my digression. I like my toes. Not in an emotional way, but in a practical one. Toes serve an important role in keeping your balance. I pride myself on my ability to generally avoid falling down, and when I do, it’s by far the most humiliation I can experience in public. Spraying a freezing chemical onto them on a nightly basis would surely devour their stability. This isn’t good. Less toe strength is a quick and terrible path right to the loss of my cat-like balance. Furthermore, I don’t like nightly rituals. I have a difficult time finding a way to sleep as it is without some stranger trying to destroy my feet. This situation is not ideal, friend.

The beach scenario is interesting because it would not affect me directly very often. I don’t enjoy the beach as much as most people. In the words of Bill Hicks regarding beaches, “I don’t see the big deal. It’s where dirt meets water. I’m going to dump some sand into my bathtub and stay inside this summer.” Amusement parks venture similar territory in terms of my interest in them. I’ve rarely been amused while at any park claiming amusement is the sole benefit of its existence. Dangerous rides, horrible food, clowns (who we all know are either murderers or rapists, always), and boring games? Count me out. An amusement park is not my favorite place in which to spend a day. Even with friends and family, at best you’ll get a passive “meh” reaction from me. That all being said, I don’t like the idea of raining on other peoples’ parades. If I end up at a beach or amusement park, I’m likely there for the happiness of another person. This scenario forces me to crush that happiness. That’s not fair. Just because I don’t find much joy in beaches and amusement parks doesn’t mean I have the right to take that joy from others.

This is quite difficult. I really don’t want to destroy the leisure of otherwise peaceful and content people. However, I truly value my toes and my balance, so I am forced to choose the rainy days for everyone’s happy moments. Sorry world, but I need my toes more than you need your beach days. 

-Matthew Fugere

notquiteblondearewe asked: Carefully analyze why Rebecca Black is allowed to walk the Earth but sriracha jelly beans do not exist. Bonus points if you can incorporate Gila monsters.

This is an interesting challenge. I’m not sure where to start, but I’ll definitely need to write through this one.

Let’s examine the legitimacy of the existence of Rebecca Black first (that’s what I assume you mean by her ability to walk the Earth). From there, I think it’s best we define what we mean by existence. Obviously, were we speaking strictly of her natural, humanly existence, then the answer is simple: her father ejaculated in/on/near/around her mother and nine months later she fell out. That’s standard biology and reproduction for you. That being said, I assume we’re talking about her existence as a pop culture phenomenon. From the perspective of someone who consumes a relatively large amount of cultural expressions through various media, Rebecca Black is terrible. She sings about themes and events that don’t seem relevant to my experience or culture now or when I was her age. In fact, what she sings about (essentially being a rich teenager) doesn’t seem relevant to anyone with whom I would happily associate. Let’s be honest, rich teenagers don’t understand the world for two reason: 1) they’re too young to matter as human beings 2) any teenager who has the affluence and influence needed to become a pop star can’t be a good person. You can break that down into one, all encompassing, blanket statement: teenagers are the worst. I was terrible when I was a teenager. You were probably terrible when you were a teenager. That’s just how the universe works. However, as much as it pains me to say it, Rebecca Black’s cultural expression—though completely out of touch with the reality of most people—does present some aspect of a particular human experience. It’s the biggest conundrum when you’re judging culture; completely dismissing anyone’s self-expression is belittling the experience of another human being. That kind of attitude is lacking in empathy, the most important trait for any decent person. For a person who is without empathy is, not unlike the Gila monster, a venomous being. Therefore, Rebecca Black gets to exist (walk the Earth as you might put it) in the manner in which she does because decent, empathetic people like you and me let her exist in such a manner.

Sriracha jelly beans are another matter. It’s safe to say that the main purpose of comparing these two is to expose how unfair and cruel life can be by presenting such terrible facets of existence all the while keeping easily created other facets of existence hidden from our mortal experience. It would be far too easy for someone to make a sriracha jelly bean. We can send people to the moon, where are the sriracha jelly beans? Well, unfortunately, I think it’s safe to say that there is probably not a market available for sriracha jelly beans. Jelly beans generally work in two different ways: 1) regular, delicious flavors mimicking various fruits (we’re talking your cherry, watermelon, apple, etc.) 2) novelty flavors that don’t mimic anything people actually consume (dirt, worms, snot, and other things that make stupid teenagers like Rebecca Black say “Ewww, el oh el”). The sriracha jelly bean doesn’t fall into either of these categories. People either want the obviously tasty jelly bean or the silly, novelty jelly bean. Since sriracha is a real thing that people consume that doesn’t have a sweet flavor or a stupid novelty flavor, it is stuck between the two worlds—a kind of jelly bean limbo.

Your statement comes down to an unanswerable structure of inquiry: why do bad things happen while good things that could happen don’t? There’s no real answer. It’s just how the world works. I recommend you keep enjoying your Thai food and admiring your venomous North American lizards, because life is otherwise filled with many disappointments. Just hold on to the good stuff (Thai food and lizards).  

-Matthew Fugere

sirbombalot asked: Would you rather be put to death by the death penalty, knowing that you'd totally get to chill with Jesus in Heaven and play Contra all day, BUT he has no snacks at his place, you have to be P2, and you're always on fire and can FEEL the burn, though it doesn't hurt THAT much, or be set free from the death sentence, but every food you eat for the rest of your life tastes like black licorice?

My gut reaction is the second option because I don’t have to die. However, let’s talk it through.

Being put to death by execution has got to be traumatic. Clearly I’ve done something terrible to someone somewhere and now I’m paying for my crimes. Simply put: I don’t want to die. However, realizing that there actually is a heaven and a Jesus, though completely counter to my actual beliefs, would be really interesting to experience. But that’s where it gets tricky. If I’m getting the death penalty, then I’ve done something wrong, right? I mean, what are the chances that my execution is going forward with no justification? Why would I be going to heaven? Does everyone get into heaven? Are Hitler and Stalin going to be there too? Will they be playing NARC as I play Contra (Hitler obviously taking the player 2 controller so that he doesn’t get to drive the red car in the later levels)? That brings me to the Contra ordeal. Here’s the thing: I wasn’t a big fan of Contra. I don’t think it’s the best example of a 2D action game from that era. I didn’t enjoy it when I was young, I don’t enjoy it as an adult. Playing Contra, regardless of which player controller I take up, would be boring for me. Since we’re dealing with an afterlife, by the way, it is implied that I’ll be doing these things for eternity. That’s far too long to do any one thing. Plus, I’d have to deal with me not thinking what I was experiencing was even possible during my physical life. That kind of cognitive dissonance would haunt me for far too long for me to enjoy eternity. Essentially, in this scenario, my sense of reality, video game selection, and desired length of time per activity have all been absolutely shattered. This is not ideal.

The second option has me not being dead, a scenario I much prefer already. My philosophy of life is as follows: don’t die. This scenario is much more in accordance to my life-goals than the last. However, I do enjoy food, as every human who has ever existed has. Food is an integral part of culture. Culture, in many respects, helps shape identity. Therefore, food can be an important part of who you are. However, as important as food is to life, having only one flavor from which to choose would certainly have its benefits. For example, I could just eat healthy foods for the rest of my life. My nutritional intake could be constructed to fit that of a perfectly balanced and healthy lifestyle. With that considered, my life expectancy, something I obviously covet in this scenario since I don’t want to die, would dramatically increase. That being said… I sure would miss those Reese’s Easter egg candies…

Anyway…

I would definitely go with the not dying but everything tasting like licorice scenario. Sure, I’d have a bland life of boring food, but at least I would be super healthy and not dead. Dealing with eternity in the other scenario is just too much for me. 

-Matthew Fugere

sirbombalot asked: Would you rather be forced to have sex with a jar of peanut butter every day who often patronizes you and embarrasses you in front of your friends, or spend a month in prison, where everyone makes you dress up like Bubbles from "The Powerpuff Girls" and massage your butthole, telling you their fingers are Chemical X?

This is a difficult question. Each side has so many variables that it is nearly impossible to imagine how I could really handle either. Let’s give it a try though.

Let’s start with the peanut butter. If I’m being “forced” to have sex with peanut butter, then it’s safe to say I’m in a hostile domestic relationship. My first inclination is to find a way out of the situation, avoiding further violations of my manhood and independence. If this jar is also patronizing and embarrassing me on a regular basis, then the tragic relationship theory is certainly true. However, for some reason, in this scenario I’ve remained in the relationship, is there something between the jar and me that isn’t overt? Do I truly love the jar, letting this abuse happen due to some kind of misguided, blind admiration? If this is true, then clearly I have to open a dialogue, even if it’s at the expense of my wellbeing. Open and honest communication is the key to any relationship—be it romantic or not. Once that door is open, if the abuse continues, then obviously I need to move on. I realize that’s far more difficult done than said as feeling trapped and helpless only leads to further feelings of inadequacy and depression, digging you deeper in the hole you didn’t even make. However, I’m sure with a little time and support from any friends and family I have in this scenario, I would eventually find a path to a happier, more fulfilled life. The complication of loving this jar while still finding a way to love myself is the most difficult trauma to consider. There is no easy way out of this.

In the other scenario, you overtly have me in a prison (unlike the last scenario where my imprisonment was more implied and psychological). If I’m in prison for one month, then it is safe to say that I have not committed too horrible of a crime (perhaps a white-collar crime involving moving money or numbers around to advance a business). That being said, I doubt I would be in a place where everyone would ask me to dress as Bubbles without my opinion being taken into consideration. Obviously, in this scenario, I want to be dressed like Bubbles. As for the intimate massages, their purpose and from whom they are being delivered are most key to address. Once more, this is likely a low-security prison since I’m only here for a month, so there is a good chance these “massages” are part of a regular physical examination. There’s nothing wrong with that at all. In fact, such examinations could act as a strong preventative of prostate cancer (a threat every man has to worry about eventually). As for the “Chemical X” spiel, there’s nothing wrong with naming part of your body. That name only holds as much significance as you allow it to. I could easily ignore the eerie symbolism of such an intense name by reminding myself that “Chemical X” is simply a finger or two massaging my prostate in an attempt to check for infection or signs of a more serious condition such as cancer.

Now that I’ve thought each through, this is an easy call. I would clearly go to the prison. First of all, it only lasts a month whereas the jar relationship does not have a set time. We all know how tragically dragged out a bad relationship can be. Furthermore, I’m not sure if I have the emotional or mental fortitude needed to be in a hostile relationship. The conflict between loving the thing that causes your misery is far too much for my psyche. If only I were a stronger man…  

-Matthew Fugere