Dear Sedaratives:

I’m a world-class thumb wrestler. I win every time. My boyfriend gets so frustrated when he loses against me that he slinks around with his head hung the whole day. Do I throw a fight to make him feel better?

Barb O’Conner
San Antonio, Tex.

Dear Barb:

Sorry Barb, I am calling bullshit on your self-proclaimed “world-class” thumb-wrestler status. Anyone who knows anything about professional thumb wrestling knows that there is only one person who has ever held that title, and his name was not Barb O’Conner. Does the name Hal “Hitch Hiker” Hudson mean anything to you? Or am I mistaken and you invented the Flying Metacarpal Crusher? I resent that you assumed I was such a novice to the world of thumb wrestling that I would fall for your ruse. I grew up in Las Vegas, Barb. There wasn’t an International Thumb Wrestling Federation tournament that I did not attend as a child. My bedroom walls were covered in photos of such luminaries as Robby “Knuckles” Jackson, Tiffany “Toe Thumbs” Taylor, and Sylvia “Three Joints” Cortez. You insult my intelligence, Barb. Oh, and FYI, “throwing a fight” would keep you out of the Thumb Wrestling Hall of Fame, but I assume you know that since you are a “world-class” thumb wrestler and all. The audacity!

Elizabeth

Dear Sedaratives:

I hate working. Is there any way I can get out of this horrible, imposed social contract?

Penn

Charleston, NC
Dear R. Penn:

 My gut tells me that you are a lazy bastard who has never worked a hard day in his life. Am I wrong? Look at you, you couldn’t even muster the energy to write your entire first name. I don’t even know if you are a man or a woman. But what do you care, “R”? You only care about yourself and your desire to avoid any sort of labor. You disgust me. Perhaps if you spent the energy that you exerted avoiding work, you could have accomplished something other than writing a desperate letter to an expert like myself.

Nice, “R”, you think I don’t know that you are making a rude face at me right now? What? You think that just because my job consists of sitting around drinking coffee and coming up with “zingers” that I don’t have a “real job?” I resent that you are insinuating that, “R”. No, I’m not getting defensive, “R”, you’re getting defensive. Alright, you know what, let’s just both calm down for a minute.

It’s funny, “R”, when I started this letter I really hated you, but you’re kind of turning me around here. You can be very persuasive, when...