Sedaratives: Paul F. Tompkins

Sedaratives: Paul F. Tompkins

Paul F. Thompkins
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Dear Sedaratives,

When there’s food in my office, I’ll eat it all, regardless of how many cashews I ate on the way to work. How do I stop myself from compulsively overeating?

Doug Prentiss
Santa Fe, N. Mex.

Dear Doug,

Wait, wait, wait. How much food is in this office? How much could there be? Do you people work more than eight hours? Do you work on an oil rig? You’re very mysterious about the food and how it gets into the office. Are you eating your coworkers’ stuff? Not cool. Confess that you’ve been eating their Lean Pockets and the overeating will stop when they knock your teeth out. Do you work alone and suddenly food is justthere? Perhaps you are a sleepy cobbler and the industrious elves, in addition to doing your job, are leaving behind deli trays and pudding packs. I don’t know the situation. If you won’t be straight with me, the best I can do is advise you to give up on that cashew-as-appetite-suppressant plan. I think those nuts are just whetting your appetite for all the food that is contained in a building.



Dear Sedaratives,

I’ve been infected with poison oak or ivy. Research and doctors have told me that there is no cure and I will suffer from constant itching, oozing, and blisters for the next two to three weeks. I don’t believe the doctors. I think they are hiding something just so those of us who are highly allergic to this evil plant can suffer. Do you know of home remedy that will make the pain go away?

Austin, Tex.

Dear Jennifer,

I fear for your safety now that you have revealed this conspiracy. Poison oak is the least of your problems. You’d better get out of the country and I mean now.Also, I’m mocking you. Stop being ridiculous! That’s what the doctor cabal picked as the official affliction they’re gonna fold their arms over and do nothing about? Do you know how many kinds of insane cancers there are out there that they’ve probably just given up on? Come on. Tough it out. Watch where you’re walking next time. Also, “Do you know of home remedy”? Did you think talking like a villager in an old Wolfman movie would make me cough up some secret gypsy cure?



Dear Sedaratives,

My roommates and I have trouble making friends. We recently moved to a new city and every time we go out and meet new people, we never hear from them again. We are getting tired of hanging out with each other. How do we get these people to be friends with us without coming across like stalkers or cult [sic]?

Peter Green
San Francisco, Calif.

Dear Peter,

Maybe these people are picking up on the obvious hatred you and your roommates have for each other. It seems like you all would be better off away from each other, finding your own individual pals instead of surrounding innocent people and forcing your gang-friendship down their throats. Divide and conquer. Give San Francisco a break.

Oh, and “coming across like stalkers or cult”—who are your roommates? Jennifer from Austin? Borat? Tonto?



Dear Sedaratives,

Smoking marijuana makes me afraid of everything. I still love to joke about it, though, and talk about it all the time, and end up smoking it at every opportunity. How do I kick the habit?

Marsha Knesbitt
Colorado Springs, Colo.

Dear Marsha,

If I had to listen to you make a bunch of tired, unfunny pot jokes and endure endless hours of your yammering about pot and how great it is and how it needs to be legalized and how you can make clothes out of hemp and glaucoma blah blah blah, and then found out you didn’t even smoke pot anymore, I would murder you and then kill myself. Don’t kick the habit. For both our sakes.



Dear Sedaratives,

I just moved into a new apartment and my room is right off of the living room. My roommates watch a lot of TV, always after midnight and always very, very loudly. I hate my new roommates. Should I just move out or sit down with them and try to defuse the situation?


Greg Klondike
Dublin, Calif.

Dear Greg,

Ha! Are you talking about calling a “house meeting”? That is rich! Those never work! Never! You will only be left with the cold comfort afforded you by having taken the high road, while your roommates label you an uptight, patronizing old grandma. And they will start eating your organic peanut butter out of the communal fridge like a pack of Doug Prentisses.

If you can drive the thirty-six miles from Dublin to San Francisco, there is an awesome roommate situation waiting for you! Greg, you are just what those Moonies need to shake things up! Pack up your earplugs and persecution complex and hit the road!


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