No time for love

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Rip the Band-Aid off
Dear Dr. Jones
by GZO Jones

he passing of Ann Landers signals GZO Jones’ ascent up the crowded ladder of neophyte advice givers. Hey, a rung is a rung. So rather than dwell on his claims of living in Brazil, surviving a variety of nasty ills and rubbing elbows with the best of the bygone Beats, we’re just happy that his antics have yet to bring on any litigation. Check out the GZO Jones Town Web site to appreciate our concern.

Dear Dr. Jones,

What's the big deal with the stock market? I mean, isn't it really the same as gambling, where the house is the only real winner? And who the heck owns the house, anyhow?

Signed,
Not Paul Allen

Dear Not Paul,

Maybe Paul Allen owns the house, maybe not, maybe he pays too much for middling basketball talent. But this much is for sure: he didn't become one of the richest little rich boys on the planet by wasting time quizzing some crusty old man with a typewriter on whether to put pennies in the stock market or not. Like some half-brained underachiever on his way to this year's version of the Gap with big daddy's plastic card in tow.

Better to do something with your life, and soon. Losing money in the stock market is the least of your worries.

– Jones

Dear Dr. Jones,

I've been freelancing for my girlfriend's company. She'd been really happy with my results, but then we had this massive work-related blow-up and now I think she's way off base. I'd quit the gig to save the relationship, but I need the work. What to do?

Signed,
Times is Tight

Dear 2T,

Much as I’d like to, I can’t even call you a stupid, stupid man. Because no matter your gender (you never quite say), you’re clearly not a man.

What I do know is this: You weren’t paying much attention when all the unfunny bromides were going around (don’t crap where you eat, the one about the company ink, et al). So face the facts: You, me and your old lady – we all know this scene is deader than a big-mouth hippie at an Arkansas sheriffs’ convention.

What to do? Rip the Band-Aid off, you jackass. Stop whimpering, find another job, get a new girl and learn yourself the dang-blasted lesson. Times ain’t never that tight.

– Jones