Rule 34, Big Mac attack and neighborly conspiracies

Rule 34, Big Mac attack and neighborly conspiracies

Email Rachel at telegraph@durangotelegraph.com

Dear Rachel,

Do you know that old thing about imagining a polar bear? Tell someone not to think about a polar bear, and they’ll think about a polar bear. Well, I just learned about Rule 34. Do you know about this? It says that if you can imagine it, there’s already porn about it. It’s my new polar bear. I literally cannot stop thinking about this. I’m now pornifying everything in my sight lines. It’s ruined watching “Sesame Street” with my kid. How can I make it stop?

– I Frighten Myself

Dear Late to the Party,

Um, have you tried thinking of the president? Anyone who’s ever thought of him sexually got paid hundreds of thousands of dollars of someone else’s money for the displeasure. Maybe you could get rich off of your curse. Otherwise… well, turn off PBS, for starters, before Mr. Rogers comes on. Watch the “Chainsaw Massacre” movies. Donate to feed a family in Africa. Listen to experimental jazz. You’ll either free yourself of the burden, or have some really niche kinks.

– Enjoy, Rachel

Dear Rachel,

About 10 years ago, I decided to eat clean. I don’t think there’s a name for my diet, and I’m not some extremist. But the rules were pretty simple. No soda pop, no fast food, and minimize corn syrups. Eat fresh and eat local when it’s feasible. Eat organic when possible. Stuff like that. Well, I was on a long haul recently, and we stopped for McDonald’s because it was there, and I thought I’d hate it. But it’s like crack cocaine spiked with meth and served in a Pixie Stick straw. I can’t stop craving it now. I’ve gone to the local arches three times now. How can I unhook myself?

– Happy Meal

Dear McAddict,

Easy! Vegans are so passionate because simple foods, while they don’t light up our brains the same way as a freshly warmed quarter pounder, also taste bland and boring in comparison. You’d have to pep-talk yourself like a zealot in order to never cave in to a pouch of fries that might be cross-contaminated with hamburger grease. So get fired up for celery, my friend! It’s your only hope.

– Bon appetit, Rachel 

Dear Rachel,

I have a new neighbor who I’ve only met on walks and such. I’ll make the obligatory pandemic comments, which was a big mistake because now he’s sending me links to “news” “articles” written by people like Tyler Durden. You know, ye olde fictional fight club franchisor. His only commentary is statements like “See whatcha think” and “There’s misinformation everywhere!” Is he just trolling me to see if I’ll call him out on his BS?

– His Name Wasn’t Tyler Durden

Dear Lucky Recipient,

I’ve lost enough faith in people this year that I truly believe no one is self-aware enough to send you misinformation ironically. And now that I pictured it, I also truly believe there is a COVID Club somewhere out there. It’s like porn: if you imagine it, someone else has already done it. No one can talk about COVID Club. You show up in a parking garage, circle up and spit in each other’s mouths. It makes you feel alive, at least until you’re dead.

– Her name was Rachel, 

Rachel

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