You're a Horrible Person, But I Like You: The Believer Book of Advice by The Believer Read Free Book Online

husband thinks might be melanoma. But I’m afraid of going to a dermatologist and letting him hack it off, because my mole is one of the most interesting things about my face. Isn’t being unique worth a little skin cancer?
Cheri Colvin
Rochester, NY
    Dear Cheri:
    Of course. However, you may want to consider how interesting your face will look with a big hole in it.
Larry
    …
    Dear Larry:
    All of us up here in Canada are a little nervous about what you guys in the United States are up to. You’re not planning to invade us anytime soon, are you? Just give us a heads-up; that’s all we’re asking .
Cheers ,
Brigette K .
Winnipeg, MB, Canada
    Dear Brigette:
    No, not at all. Please continue disarming your populace and emasculating your men with draconian pornography laws.
Larry

Paul Feig
    Dear Paul:
    I just had a dream where a large bear started attacking me because I was in a prison tower and it was angry. I am concerned because in the dream, someone I don’t know brought the bear to my house in a plastic igloo and said, “Look, it’s my pet!” Is this an omen?
Liz, age 18
    Dear Liz:
    What kind of a bear was it? Grizzly? Polar? Teddy? Chicago? What kind of prison tower? An old one, like the Tower of London? Older, like the one Rapunzel tossed her hair out of? Or modern, like the kind the guards stand on at San Quentin? And what kind of igloo was it? One of those doghouse igloos? If so, the bear couldn’t have been that big. It wasn’t an Igloo-brand cooler, was it? The bear would be even smaller if that was the case. If you want my help, I need details, girl. Maybe you eighteen-year-olds think this whole vague-description thing is the bomb, but for us guys in our forties, we need specifics. You wouldn’t be this ambiguous if I were Dr. Phil, now would you? Write me back and get that thesaurus out.
Paul
    …
    Dear Paul:
    For years I have tried to make my Hungarian grandmother’s cucumber salad. She improvises her recipe, so she wrote down the steps for me to follow. But try as I might, mine never tastes as good as hers. What am I doing wrong?
Linda Nagy
Fort Wayne, IN
    Dear Lisa:
    You’re trying to crash your grandmother’s party, that’s what you’re doing. Did you ever stop and think that maybe your grandmother isn’t giving you the exact recipe because she wants your salad to be worse than hers? What’s next? You going to try on her clothes? Steal her boyfriend? Pretend that you’re from Hungary, too? My advice is to let your grandmother be the master of her cucumber recipe. Tell her she’s the only one who can make it, then take a bowl of it to a lab and have it analyzed. Then you can make the exact recipe in the privacy of your home and she’ll still believe she’s the queen of the cucumbers.
Paul
    …
    Dear Paul:
    I am twenty-five years old, but people often mistake me for a seventeen-year-old. I wouldn’t mind so much if it meant I was getting discount bus fare, but it’s all the wrong people who think I’m a minor. Do I have to wear makeup and shave my legs to be taken seriously?
Lisa
St. Louis, MO
    Dear Lori:
    Get out a piece of paper and write down the pros and cons of being mistaken for a seventeen-year-old. Cons: you get carded at bars and 7-Elevens, your parents still feel like they can treat you like a child, and high school guys hit on you. Pros: you’re always going to look younger than you are, you can act like a teenager and no one will tell you to “grow up,” and you can help out in that To Catch a Predator program by luring creepy Internet stalkers into the house so Chris Hansen can come out with his cameramen and humiliate the pervy perpetrators.
    I’d say the pros list wins. Relax and enjoy your perpetual youth.
Paul
    …
    Dear Paul:
    Please provide your insight to the following two topics:
    The bikini line (bacon strip)—shave or wax?
    Lathering up in the shower—washcloth, loofah, or direct application of soap?
Annette Fletcher
    Dear Annette,
    First of all, let me say