(Note: This is a repost of the original)

Dear Jessica 6:

As the unmarried 1/3 of The Correctness, I am still seeking a Hot Spacewife to get Spacemarried to. I would also approve of a Vampirewife, or a FantasyFictionwife, but I’m mostly looking for a Hot Spacewife. Probably not a superhero wife, they always seem a bit conflicted.

While I know that you are just a character in a movie, and in real life you are Jenny Agutter, and you have had a long career as a respected professional actor, and you are in your fifties (not that 25 years is insurmountable), I would like to leave that aside for a moment.

If I had a time machine, and a machine that makes fictional characters real, I would totally ask you to be my Hot Spacewife. You are totally Spacehot. I apologize if that doesn’t sound very charming or flattering. People who write for comedy blogs are not legendarily good at sweeping spacewomen of their spacefeet.

I don’t want to put too much pressure on you, just because I’m willing to spacecommit to you doesn’t mean we absolutely have to get spacemarried. We could just may go on a few Whedondates. Maybe I could get us tickets to see the Kessel Run, or we could vacation on Risa? Do you like Soylent Green? I know some great recipes. I use coconut milk, curry, and people.

I know you probably hit it off with Logan- I’m a little older than Logan was when you two met, but I had to take the chance on asking you. Just in case.

Sincerely,

RobbieRobTown

Tbinns said on 18-01-2010
Tbinns

This article is space awesome. Also jerking off to Jenny Agutter while watching this movie leads to your palm blinking red.

RENEW!!!

Keith said on 18-01-2010
Keith

Thank you, CBC, for playing Logan’s Run uncut on Sunday night once when I was about 8. It was the first sci-fi I had ever seen (my parents don’t like movie theatres) and it was part of beginning a life-long love of the genre. I already bought the blu-ray and it is still as wonderful as then.

Also, it was the first time I saw boobs in a movie. So thanks for that as well.

Philip said on 27-01-2010
Philip

Ah, Jenny – the most gorgeous woman on the planet!

June 15:
Those cult guys came around again today. I know they are in a cult because of the nametags, photocopied literature, and matching discount suits from Tip Top. I pretended I wasn’t home. I hate those cult guys.

June 16:
Cult guys are back, they knocked, and knocked, and knocked. They must have waited on the porch for twenty minutes. I think they stole my newspaper. I would never be an asshole like those newspaper thieving cult assholes. Do they know I’m home?

June 17:
Cult guys are back again. If I open the door naked, would they just be all weird and enjoy it? Or rape me? Or, even if I’m not naked. I mean, should I invite them in? They sure are persistent.

June 18:
Okay, I’m thinking of inviting the cult guys in, but not with the house like this, I mean, look at this place?

June 19:
No cult guys today. First day I received newspaper this week. Also, all my mail was open.

June 20th:
This time they sent girls! This might be one of those cults where they try to bait you with the cheap sex. I like the cheap sex, I’m gonna finish cleaning and invite the cult ladies in tomorrow.

June 21:
What sort of appetizers do you serve cult ladies? I guess I’ll put out what I have here.

Wait, have I been out of the house this week? I guess not since the 15th. Do I even have a job? Maybe I should join this cult. Joke’s on them if I do, I rent this apartment.

June 22:
Well, I guess I can have as many kinky threesomes with hot cult chicks as I want as long as I give the Supreme Love Over-Watcher all my money and worldly possessions. Also, I have to eat a diet entirely of celery and bean curd. The diet seems to foster some indifference in the ladies to the threesome thing- Are all threesomes so quiet and bored?

June 23:
Well, The cult ladies came by again today, but I’m a bit full of bean curd and celery to do anything too sexy. We mostly just talked about the splendour of The Supreme Love Over-Watcher.

August 17:
Sorry it’s been a while, I’ve moved to the compound. The girls made me a uniform out of all the newspapers these guys have been liberating for the greater good. I sold my blood to buy a discount suit from tip top, and every day is like a sexy slumber party that smells like celery bean curd fart, and that also isn’t sexy at all.

August 19:
Busy yesterday, cut off my own balls to please The Supreme Love Over-Watcher.

September 19:
Woke up in hospital. Apparently, the bean curd and celery diet made me somewhat anemic, which is only problematic if you do something like cut your own balls off. Evidently I am also allergic to certain types of common antibiotics. I miss The Supreme Love Over-Watcher, I know he’d know just what to say through his discount-suited emissaries.

October 20:
Well, My lawyer helped patch things up with my landlord, and now that I am eating regular food again, I’m having a hard time remembering what I enjoyed about cult life so much.

Oct 21:
It was the threesomes.

Oct 22:
No, maybe it was something about The Supreme Love Over-Watcher. Pass the bean curd please.

Dear Square Enix:

I have a couple questions about Kingdom Hearts.

1. Why in your advertising do you pronounce “385/2 days” “three-eight-five days over two”, when logically it would be “three hundred eighty five over 2 days” or even more logically “192.5 days”?

2. WTF is with Kingdom Hearts? And, can you also explain the story of the game to me? Whose Nobody made Dixie the Waitress do what to Akira?

http://na.square-enix.com/khdays/

3. What does that have to do with Mickey?

4. What is an Enix, exactly?

Thanks.

RobbieRobTown

The Correctness received this impassioned plea for wisdom a few days after the close of our contest, but we felt it warranted special attention, due to the serious public health concerns:

Dear Correctness,

Could you please help me and my friend with a problem we are having. As residents of South East Asia, it has come to our attention that many people are afraid of contracting H1N1. This in itself is annoying, as the current strain of the virus appears to be as terrifying as dermatitis, and quite a lot less irritating.

However, our real issue is with the fucktards (and we do not borrow the term liberally in this case) who think that they will save themselves from this disease by wearing crappy paper face masks they purchase in the local pharmacy.

How do we cope with being surrounded by morons who believe a non sealed paper mask, worn throughout the ENTIRE day, and possibly even recycled into the next, will operate as a droplet infection barrier?
What do we do when we witness again and again these same plankton brains having conversations while LIFTING THE MASK AWAY FROM THEIR FACES, and then replacing them?

We do not know why we get so angry. My friend saw one with a Pooh Bear picture on it. This particular mask caused an overwhelming desire on her part to shove it into the gob of the idiot who was wearing it, whilst coughing all over them. If I had been there, I worry that I may have actually rugby tackled the person and held them down for her.

Is everyone else in the world stupid?

kind regards

Everyone Very Indignantly Livid Because In This Country H1N1 Equals Stupidness.

Wow, you are really angry EVILBITCH(1N1)ES.  But let’s get right down to it. H1N1 is a present, unstoppable risk to all humanity, and bacon. Bacon, EVILBITCH(1N1)ES, Bacon. While I am no expert on South East Asia, other than which hotel has the most whores off the strip despite their comical efforts to be a “family” business, what I can tell you something about is Canada. Every year in Canada, about 10,000 people are killed by the garden variety, boring old flu. You know, the “jeepers I’m feeling a bit under the weather, was I drinking last night, no because i’m a teetotaler” kind of flu.

Similarly, in Canada, well over -1 people died of H1N1, and I assure you it is A REAL, TERRIFYING, LEGITIMATE THREAT THAT IS WAITING FOR YOU TO STOP LOOKING TO SNEAK UP, INVADE YOUR ASS, AND GIVE YOU EBOLA LIKE SYMPTOMS. Do you want your intestines to turn liquid, leaving only sagging sausage casings inside of your body to feebly attempt to digest your food?  Have you ever fought a ninja? Do you know what it is like to get ninja stars in your eyes? Because I assure you, that’s what H1N1 will be like- it will be like ninja stars in the eyes, while shitting razors, while listening to The Doodlebops, or possibly the Wiggles.

The reason so few people can be considered confirmed fatalities with H1N1 is that the virus is too goddamn smart for you. It knows you are trying not to think about it, and it will be back, and in greater numbers. It will be back like Sand People. It will be back like your ex girlfriend. It will be drunk, it will be angry, it will be demanding you let it in. It will be holding one broken high heel in it’s hand.  It will be back like Arnie. It will be back like the oral herpes you forgive yourself for because that was college, and it’s different from the other herpes, even though, really, no it isn’t.

EVERYONE MUST PROTECT THEMSELVES OR FACE HIDEOUS RAZOR-ASSED DEATH.

Safety basics:

1. A paper mask is imperative. The size of the pores in the paper through which the majority of your air flows are larger than the H1N1 virus. This will assure the airborne virus passes through the paper mask like water passes through a drain- all swirly like. If you are in the southern hemisphere, you must wear your mask upside down, due to the Coriolis Effect. The efficacy of a loose paper mask cannot be denied. Most major epidemics have not started near paper masks or any large sources of paper, like stationary stores. This is based on years of research. I never once got AIDS at Staples.

2. Have Winnie The Pooh on your mask.  This is important for several reasons. First, take solace in your childhood, this may be the only thing that saves you. The small amount of joy brought to you in the face of your certain doom by having Winnie the Pooh on your paper mask is one of your few lines of defense. Second, and this is a medically proven fact, Winnie the Pooh will be exposed to the virus first before you are, because he is in front of you. This is more than science, this is simple logic. If you don’t have Winnie the Pooh on your face, you’d better get something, anything, like  a photograph of someone you hate, and then strap that thing right onto your paper mask. They will totally get H1N1 before you do because viruses are transmitted in linear rays, from the infected to the first object they bump into. Winnie the Pooh is really taking one for the team here, but nobody wants to see Christopher Robin shitting mucousy blood while Eeyore laments everyone’s inevitable suffocating death.

3. Take off the mask to talk to people. This is just polite. Viruses respect courtesy, and won’t betray you. This is also why I never got AIDS at Staples.

4. Panic. Look, I know we just met. But H1N1 is out there, and it has been watching you sleep, and taking notes on you, and it has a whole log book of your behaviours. Once people start turning into bloodthirsty God-forsaken zombies and begin consuming the flesh of the living to satiate their unstoppable lust for infection and death, we may not have much time left. I think the only place we might be safe here is inside of this stock room at the Staples. What did you say your major was? Marine Biology? You’re going to swim with the dolphins someday, for sure you are. No, no, even though both of my friends with Marine Biology degrees ended up counting fish stock and sorting species of kelp , I just know YOU are the one Sea World wants. You’ve got something special kiddo. No, I’m not just saying that because we are going to die. We’ll get out of here somehow. Now bring over one of those boxes of glossy cardstock, and let me take your pants off. It’s all we can do to survive this. No I didn’t bring a condom. This is STAPLES. we are in a defensible, paper filled fortress. Don’t mind my cold sore, it’s going away.

Be safe out there everyone, and get with the program, EVILBITCH(1N1)ES, because you are at real risk of dying too. Now take your pants off.

Here at The Correctness, we are getting a lot of questions about time travel. Oh, and by “a lot” I mean “none” but the sentence “Here at The Correctness we get none questions about time travel” is not grammatically correct.  Nonetheless, we have commissioned an ongoing series of articles addressing your FAQs about time travel. This first one is from our “Intermediate Time Travel Forum”, so this is for those with a basic working knowledge of some of the practical techniques for travelling through time.

Be sure to stay tuned for upcoming posts on the more basic elements and fundamentals of time travel.

Q: A popular technique for time travel that I often hear discussed is “folding time”. How does folding time help to travel through time?

A: Well, it’s a simple as this: Imagine time is this piece of paper (Rob holds a piece of paper). Now imagine we could do this (Rob bends the paper to touch in a couple of places) so we could pass from one point in time to another.  Well time travel is not at all like that.  It’s more like if I did that paper bending thing, except with time instead of paper. Paper is more like paper than it is like time, it’s just serving as a physical analogue in this case. Like, I guess you could create similes about how paper is like time, but why bother?

Q: Okay, so how do I fold time?

A: Carefully, or it will wrinkle.

Q: I mean practically:

A: One can fold time using the following technique:

Step 1: Gather up time on your hands and hold it loosely, but above the floor. Don’t let time get dusty. You could save time in a bottle to prevent that.

Step 2: Tuck the fitted corners of time into each other. Time is meant to conform to the shape of your box spring, so time passes every night at the same rate as your inevitable aging. You can lay time flat on the bed to get started of you like. This is the American method. Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way, the time is gone, the song is over, thought I’d something more to say.

Step 3.  Get your hands inside of time and kind of wiggle it so that the gravity wells align. Or, use any household black holes you may have created to do this (See: Large Hadron Collider  http://www.thecorrectness.com/correctness/the-large-hadron-collider-and-your-certain-doom/ ).  A clothespin is simply not going to do the trick, you really need to get in there with your hands and shift time around until all the wormholes are gone.

Step 4: You can see from the illustration above that you should now be able to lay time flat and time should be roughly in quarters. Now, please keep in mind that this is a three dimensional illustration of a four dimensional process, at least, if not more than four, so it might look a lot like a sheet, but also it might look like a swirling psychedelic hole into nothingness that swallows your soul to look upon. It is useful to wear your safety goggles, and have a strong faith in whatever God you choose to believe in. This should help minimize the psychic shock. I mean, yes, your life could still be torn utterly asunder by some rogue-wave traumatic event, but you are the one who is choosing to fold time. I mean, you could have just left well enough alone, but here you are tinkering with the essential fabric of your existence, and for what? Higher thread count time?

Step 5: Take the quartered sections of time, and fold them into thirds. You will now have 21 layers of time- or, in four dimensions, you started with 16 layers of time, and you now have 48. The layers of time are a bit like philo pastry, except that they are intangible strands of the stuff of the universe, and not really delicious.  One good thing about that is time isn’t going to be a gluten bomb to your colon. You can digest time, and you will find it high in fibre. This is due to Quantum String (Bean )Theory.

Step 6. Take the last strip of time,  and fold it again into thirds. You will now have either 63 layers of time, or 144, depending on your perceptual ability and skill at mathematical topology. Since we are working in the fourth dimension, a perfect square like a gross, or 144, is just the right amount of time to travel through, though it wouldn’t appear as a square, it would appear as maddening cauldron of foreverness. Forever. 

It is imperative that you remain quiet if you can, time can never mend the careless whispers of a good friend.

Keep in mind folding time is just one possible technique, and frankly, not our favourite here at The Correctness. Others will be explored soon, and we hope that you join us!

(The following is a true account of Correctness correspondent TBinns and his bride on their honeymoon as they tackle the Met in New York City. Between this and his recent Shakespeare post, we feel he is steering toward real culture instead of pop culture. The Correctness has taken him aside and spoken very sternly to him, and he assured us that he is still working on his 100 page thesis on why Transformers should not have testicles.)

After spending a few days kicking around Times Square, which, fun though it may be, can also be compared to having your eyeballs gang raped by advertisers, my new bride and I decided to take our honeymoon up a cultural notch and go to Metropolitan Museum to take in one of the world’s great art collections. I offer the following as a guide and also a cautionary tale. Losing your way in the Met is not unlike getting lost in the woods, sure it looks gorgeous, but when the finger pointing, bickering and aching feet start, you’ll begin to wish one of you brought along a map and a compass.

We went in with a plan…we definitely wanted to see the visiting Rembrandt exhibition, some Ancient Greek and Roman stuff, and some Impressionists. Then we’d be out in time for our dinner reservations and off to the Great White Way to see Spring Awakening. The plan breaks down almost immediately.

10:35 am

We take our traveling companion; a beanie baby sloth named Frederick, and place him on a pedestal next to an exquisite 20000 year old Herme. Other tourists giggle as we snap photos. I’m shocked that no one attempts to stop us. I make a mental note to put Frederick in the thinker pose if we stumble across a Rodin today.

11:15 am

The nerd in me lingers far too long looking at medieval weapons and armor. My wife punishes me by making sure for the rest of the day she reads every single placard at every single exhibit.. Twice.

12:20 pm

Lunch on the steps, hot dog and pretzels. Depending on one’s tolerance for pigeons this is a much better option than the overpriced museum food.

1:08 pm

The sloping glass wall that overlooks Central Park in the heart of the Egyptian exhibit looks familiar to me. Then I remember where I saw it from. I share this knowledge with my wife through the power of annoying movie quotes.

“Waiter…there is too much peppaaar in my Paprikash….but I would be proud to partake of your pecan pie….peeeecaaaan pieeee” I say with a grin. The wife continues to reread a placard. I try again
“I think hieroglyphics are just an ancient comic strip about a character named “Sphinxy”.

Nothing.

“It’s from…”

“I got it.” She says moving onward.

2:12 pm

The Rembrandt exhibit is jammed. It seems that when there’s a visiting exhibit the native New Yorkers turn up as well, making it very difficult to get near the surprisingly small paintings. I did manage to display my profound ignorance by pointing to Rembrandts famous self portrait and proclaiming “Hey, it’s the guy from the Masterpiece game. Check underneath, it might be a forgery.” I seem to recall running into similar problems when I embarrassed my sister at the National gallery in London by cheerfully pointing out which of the paintings had been used in various Terry Gilliam cartoons on Monty Python’s Flying Circus.

3:35 pm

A wrong turn at furniture has led us to a large area that looks like storage space. I’m not even sure we are supposed to be here. It looks like a Costco filled with fine art and antiques. The afternoon wears on and The Impressionists continue to be elusive.

4:06 pm

My wife is no longer speaking to me. The warehouse area goes on and on. In desperation I squint at a portrait, in the hopes that it would look more impressionist painting. For the record, it doesn’t.

4:25 pm

We finally emerge into what looks more like an area we are meant to be in, right next to a gigantic portrait of Washington crossing the Delaware. We sit for a bit, not out of any misplaced patriotic fervor for Washington and his famous whitewater rafting trip, but because we needed to get off our feet. This was the first painting we recognized in awhile, and dammit we were going to get our moneys worth out of it.

5:15 pm

Neither of us have any idea how we ended up back at Ancient Egypt. I forgo the joke I was going to make comparing the mummy we have now seen twice to Nicole Ritchie. We opt for the “Hail a cab” exhibit outside the main doors so we can make dinner and curtain..

8:35 pm

Midway through Act 1 of Spring Awakening, a rock musical set in the 1800’s where the characters all hold microphones and make anachronistic references, I realize that I had last found a little bit of impressionist art in New York. And it was even better when I squinted.

This woman is married to 1/3 of the Correctness. Weep for her

The Correctness Presents: Emergency Car Repair for the Fragile Male Ego

So your car has broken down? Are you stranded on the side of the highway? Are your hypothetical passengers, wife, and/or children screaming at you to do something? Do you think, perhaps, just for one all too tempting moment, if you simply slipped away into the wilderness you could leave it all behind and nobody would ever notice or care? What awaits you in those dark mysterious woods? Is it The Bloodthirsty Wendigo? Will he eat you first, for your cruel betrayal of your family, or will he consume their flesh as you run to your inevitable doom in the web of the Giant Spider? Do you remember the Battle for Endor movies? Will those be your last memories as your fluids are sucked partially out of you, leaving you just alive enough to watch the Wendigo fight the Spider, knowing that your fate is still to be eaten no matter which one wins? All I remember about those Endor movies is the kid with the headband.

It’s times like these when the metaphorical walls of society’s inimitable sexual double standards come crashing in around you, and you are encouraged to fix your car. YOU, manchild, must fix the car, because you are a man and you have some hypothetical genetic predisposition to be good at this.  IF YOU DON’T FIX THIS CAR, you will never, EVER get laid again. It’s true. Your partner is that shallow, and she will abandon you in 5 seconds, no matter how good of a man you are. Oh, and for our gay Correctness fans, don’t think you’re in any better shape either. One of you has to be the superhero, and since you are reading this on your iPhone, it has fallen to you. Here is a step by step procedure for doing everything you can.

1. Pop the Hood
Once you have pulled over to the side of the road, pop your hood open. DO NOT attempt to open your hood while your car is still in motion. No matter how hilarious it seems to entice your passengers out onto the sun baked hood of your still moving vehicle, it is much, much safer to stop the car first. Oh, and for God’s sake, try to remember where the latch for hood on your car is. If you recently purchased this car, you may have only opened the hood a couple of times by now, and fumbling around for the latch is not confidence inspiring. You want to inspire confidence. That way, when you fail, the effort seems more herculean and manly.

Once you have opened the hood, have a good long look. You don’t know where to start, do you? If you’re driving an Infiniti like my dad, you don’t even get to pretend. There is a cover over the entire engine allowing you access only to the oil, and that’s basically it. You’re probably driving some kind of regular vehicle, so you’ll have lots of stuff to look at. Look at all that stuff! Oh sure, the basic principles involved you get- fuel is ignited in the cylinders, it explodes, forcing the pistons up and down, moving the car, blah blah. But the nuts and bolts of it? The LITERAL nuts and bolts of it?

Nonetheless, and this is absolutely critical, have a good long look in there. Try to bend down over the engine and look like you know what to look for. Count to 100 in your head. If you like, look back to your passengers and shake your head grimly as if to say “They don’t make ‘em like they used to”. If you are very brave try saying something specific like “damn calipers” or “It’s the Jackman housing” but use your discretion.

Also, try taking off your sweater vest, and getting down to a single manly layer. Got some grease on your hands? Good.  just a bit- not too much, or you will look like you lacked the strength to remove the part you were examining.

2. Purposelessly Check the Oil
Not that it will help now, but when was the last time you checked? You could always claim you sprung a leak. If it turns out to be a “no oil” kind of situation, your engine is probably seized, and you are probably royally screwed. Check it anyways, check it down to the last black, gritty litre.

This also gives you the opportunity to use the word “dipstick” without feeling rude. We suppose you could check your coolant level too, while you’re at it, but be warned: First, one of those round lids the place to add coolant, and the other one is your radiator cap, and you shouldn’t open that one. If you don’t know which one is which, don’t open either, lest you get your face burned off. Second, if you do choose correctly, and unscrew the weird cap on the coolant tank,  it will have some discoloured fluid on it and you will attempt to gauge the level of the discoloured fluid against a black plastic background, and you will have no idea. And, EVEN IF you detect a problem, are you carrying extra coolant? Oil? Hell did you check the tire pressure in your spare? No you did not. You spent your free time trying to think of things you wanted to have in your trunk in case you and your car get transported back in time. You have chemistry textbooks, shotgun shells, and a copy of Fangoria. Also, perhaps, a flux capacitor and a sports almanac from 1985.

Remain calm. Go ahead and check the oil, and when you are forced to ask your passengers for a rag or a napkin to clean off the dipstick, it will look like things are progressing nicely up there. At this point, there should be just enough grime on your hands, so you can still be considered handy enough, yet tidy enough for your heroic make out. Of course, that’s if you pull this off…

3. Shoulder Check for Wendigo
That thing is out there. Watching you. Whether demonic spirit or deranged animal, the Bloodthirsty Wendigo is a threat you cannot defeat. All you can do is buy yourself time. Try asking your family to roll down the windows, and apply coconut sun screen, or barbeque sauce to themselves. They probably won’t sauce themselves though. Your family is probably on to you and your wendigo fears anyways, and they don’t trust you. Remember a little while ago while you were trying to talk them in to getting on the hood while the car was still moving? That was roughly 600 words ago, and they still remember.

Don’t be fooled by imposters. Beware the wendigo, but a sasquatch is a totally different issue from a wendigo. A wendigo is definitely going to feast on your corpse, whereas a sasquatch might just be curious about you.

Do not make love to the sasquatch if one appears. He is a sensitive mysterious creature, and his heart is easily broken. Plus, if you think you’ve got a sasquatch, and that thing turns out to be a wendigo, get ready to have your dick sliced off by his cruel claws.

4. Purposelessly Check the Battery Terminal Connections.
Are they on there? They are, huh? Both of them? There should be two, I think, except on a Prius… Okay. Move along. Probably your alternator-thing would have kept you going anyways, as far as you know. Hell, as far as we know too. In fact, unless your car just isn’t starting after your pee break, then this little action might be wasted.

5. Check for Vapour Lock.

You have heard about it from your friends, and you heard about it on the Simpsons. Walk over to the gas cap, and unscrew it. If you hear it suck in air, you might have had a vacuum in the fuel line preventing gas from hitting the engine. If you don’t hear a sucking sound, give it a minute, and it might still be vapour lock.

Now, there is one BIG PROBLEM with checking for vapour lock. You are tipping your hand if you do this. You are leaving the engine area (the area of your supposed expertise) and moving off to check on something else. If it is vapour lock, you are going to look like a total hero. If it isn’t, you are going to look like you just took an excursion to the back of your vehicle out of desperation. What are you doing over there? It says we have gas left, Stephen, the thing says we have half a tank. Is the thing broken? Your fuel thing is broken, that’s so typical. Far be it from you to do basic maintenance to keep me, your beloved safe in the car, Stephen. Why don’t you get a new car? I could have married someone rich, Stephen, rich. I had options. All you talk about is sex Stephen, but when it comes time you can’t get it up, can you Stephen? Can you? You’re like an over-sensitive damn sasquatch, Stephen.

You should always check for vapour lock. This will happen perhaps once in your life, but, dear constant reader, I got SO LAID when I fixed my car because of vapour lock on a road trip. I remember it fondly, because I got to have sex that one time. I totally get what you guys are talking about now.

6. Check the, uh, fan belt?
You can try checking the “fan belt” but sadly, I am told by my mechanic, most modern vehicles have only one or two belts that loop around various moving things in your engine in a Rube Goldberg kind of way. No amount of pantyhose will replace your serpentine belt, sorry. I mean, if you want to get your date out of her pantyhose, it’s not a bad suggestion, but it’s really unlikely to help much mechanically. Plus, you’re the one who seduced a sasquatch in the first place, and making him get out of his pantyhose seems too forward. How can you resist those big brown eyes looking at you pleadingly? That conical head? The smell of Kokanee brand beer?

7. Look Under the Car
Let’s just suppose, JUST SUPPOSE, there is something under your car. Something had caused a fuel leak, or you clipped a dead hooker and she’s wrapped around a wheel well. Now what? Maybe you can remove the offending foreign object, but more than likely the damage is done. Do you see the needle and the damage done? Do you see any of your Neil Young 45’s?

Make this quick. The longer you look beneath the car the more likely it is that that damn Giant Spider will descend slowly upon you. It’s the lesser of two evils to be violently eviscerated by the Bloodthirsty Wendigo than it is to be poisoned and then slowly consumed by that damn spider.

8. Gracefully Admitting Defeat

The time has come to pack up your balls, wish farewell to your testosterone, and say goodbye to your once loving partner. The fickle will of the Unviverse has dealt you the cruelest hand in the willfully dealt poker game of mixed metaphor life, or some such thing. Manchild, you have not fixed your car. Plaster a smile on your face, call the CAA, or the AAA, or whatever, and prepare a “look on the bright side!” speech.

Good luck, and join us here at The Correctness soon when we discuss roadside games you can play to entertain your overheated wife/family with just the objects you find in your trunk- like a chemistry textbook and some shotgun shells.

Good news everyone! We have excerpts from the 2009 guidebook to Middle Earth!

Staying in the Barrow Downs:

Accommodations:

Accommodations are available, but dusty at best. If your room has a barrow wight, you’ll want to put in a call to Tom Bombadil, his songs are the strongest.

Weather:

While the weather on the downs itself is temperate, the weather inside the barrows tends to be clammy and chilled. You probably don’t need rain gear, as the thought of returning to the surface will be overwhelmed by the soul-sucking desire to stay where you are and die.

Dining out:

Unless you ate with Tom Bombadil and Goldberry, or are packing lembas, it’s going to be pretty slim pickings on the downs.  Wights have an unparalleled disinterest in fine cuisine, unless, again,  you count sucking your will to live as dining, which the authors of this guidebook certainly do not.

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Isengard and Area:

Accommodations:

Since only the foolhardy would risk the Fangorn forest, Orthanc becomes the only viable housing in much of Isengard. Sadly, to paraphrase Gandalf’s review of Edoras in the Riddermark, the  courtesy of this hall is somewhat lessened of late.  There is really only one central room in Orthanc, and recent guests have found the interior to be a post-modern hodgepodge of a design- somewhat like the Fortress of Solitude, but with none of the Scandinavian cleanliness. The roof, watch your step, is exceptionally spiky, and being hurled against it repeatedly would be uncomfortable at best.

Entertainment:

Well, it’s a real stretch to call an Entmoot entertaining, so bring your special brownies if you are going to listen to this listless whale music all night. Otherwise, it’s a view of the orc pits which, while industrial, are quite remarkable. The writers of this guidebook heartily recommend you bring your pipeweed either way.

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Rivendell/ Imladris:

Entertainment:

The mood of Rivendell is entirely dependent on the mood of the Elves. Visit with Bilbo, and it’s all show tunes and travel songs, ALL THE TIME. Visit during the end of the Third Age, and it’s all Elrond being pissy, and hardly a jam session or drum circle in sight. We recommend going during the summer.

If you are out dancing, we recommend learning the Misty Mountain Hop.

Timekeeping:

Bring a world clock with you, time passes differently in Rivendell than it does in the rest of Middle Earth.  Women on oral contraceptives should take note, especially if they have had anything to drink while visiting Fangorn forest…

Language:

Learning Elvish is a bit like learning Castilian Spanish. Expect to do a lot of lisping.

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The Mines of Moria:

Security and Access:

If you want to get in through the Doors of Durin, don’t forget your password. We cannot emphasize this enough. The neighbourhood outside the doors is run down, and the nearby lake is not safe for swimming. The Watcher in the Lake is not  to be mistaken for a lifeguard.

Balrog encounters:

Near the bridge of Khazad-Dum, but anywhere in the main mine really, you might encounter a Balrog. First off, it is NOT more scared of you than you are of it. This is a common misconception. Do NOT, under any circumstances, attempt to feed the Balrog. Unless you are the servant of a sacred fire, and the wielder of the Flame of Anor, you are likely to be eaten.  Here are some tips:

1. Store your food in designated Balrog proof containers, or regional parks “food hang” sites.

2. Avoid any sudden movement and loud noises. This is also useful when avoiding large parties of orcs with cave trolls.

3. Play dead. The Balrog isn’t so much interested in eating you, as he is interested in destroying you.

4. Do not leave your party to take flash photography of the Balrog.  Most large creatures are annoyed by camera flashes, especially those that live in the dark.

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Mordor on 1-2 days:

Highlights:

If you loved the pomp and circumstance of the Black Gates, we think you’ll be disappointed by the alternate entrance at  Minas Morgul, particularly if you don’t like spiders.

Getting around:

The terrain in Mordor is largely volcanic, and we heartily recommend a good pair of hiking boots. Your casual walking shoes simply will not do.

Travel though Mordor is mostly forced marches, so try not to get dehydrated, or frustrated by the constant shouting and whipping.

Security:

The All Seeing Eye is a remarkable security feature. It’s sees inside you soul and knows your will. On the down side, the eye has it’s own agenda, but rest assured, you are under constant surveillance. Travelling to any country with a police-state ethic like this can be a blessing and a curse, but it’s best just to go with the flow, stick to the rules, and enjoy the security benefits. Unlike Singapore, chewing gum is allowed.

Shopping in Mordor:

The main commodity of interest is the One Ring, though any of the great rings are up for discussion. If you have the One Ring, expect to be drawn inextricably to Barad-Dur, and expect headaches, insomnia, and depression.

Other transactions in Mordor are made primarily by stabbing you for your shiny things, so wear a money belt.

Accomodations:

The Orcs have fleas, a bed-net is strongly recommended.

Advice for Couples:

Twas in the darkest depths of Mordor I met a girl so fair, But Gollum, and the Evil One crept up and slipped away with her.

Language:

The Black speech of Mordor will get you negative attention . Use the common tongue, or Orcish if you must -Or, alternatively, try Castilian Spanish.

The Shire and Surrounding Area:

Dining:

Expect to be eating all the time. Food will be your largest expense in the Shire, as Hobbits have insatiable appetites. Vegans, vegetarians, and those avoiding carbohydrates can expect limited menus, and little assistance from the halflings. In fact, those with alternative diets of any kind will be considered rude.  Try Gondor if you want a little Human understanding about your digestive issues. Otherwise, make with the sticky cakes.

Shopping in the Shire:

Well, while the wares available in the shire are by no means as technically brilliant as those made by the dwarves, nor as elegant as those of the elves, there are a lot of off-brand options. Leather goods, walking sticks, detailed regional maps, and tupperware are all readily available.

Safety:

Get used to feeling tall. As a practice, duck every time you enter a building.

Health Concerns:

The Hobbits never wear shoes. The fact that they are constantly eating and strolling around without footwear is difficult for some travellers. No matter how well groomed the Hobbits are, the subtle foot smell is pervasive. Again, the writers of this guide cannot emphasize this enough. PERVASIVE FOOT SMELL.

Diabetics can expect death by snacks, and non diabetics can expect to develop type II diabetes.

Romance for Singles:

Of all the lands you might travel to, you are most likely to find yourself attractive in the Shire.  If your preferences tend to sway towards short, stocky, foot-odoured people, then this might be just the adventure you’ve been looking for. Beware a sort of reverse racism, your height and good looks might garner suspicion and even disdain.  If trying to impress a potential partner, discussion of your travel outside the Shire is considered uncouth. Try sticking to the basics like how much you enjoy potatoes, or how attractive you find their curly foot hair. Do not bring up the PERVASIVE FOOT SMELL.