DEAR JOEL

By Joel

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Dear Joel,

I'm not germ-phobic, but I am really squeamish when it comes to moldy food, or even the slightest possibility of my food having mold in it-which means that I throw out a lot of perfectly good food. I've always been this way, but my paranoid tendencies have gotten worse over the past two years, ever since I took a big sip of Nesquik that was full of weevil carcasses. How do I get over my contamination fear?

Sincerely,

Nestlé Sick

Mold and things with exoskeletons are two forms of life that are so tangibly and viscerally in opposition to the experience of being a human that some motherfuckers just plain can't hang. It's irrational, yeah, but knowing that doesn't make it any easier to deal with, as you seem to already understand. The way I see it, you have three immediate options:

1. Just chill out on straight-up bomb shelter food. Not only does this seem impractical, of course, but it's just fucking lame. I mean, think about it: If you rock this, every meal you eat will be, like, a tiny little painting of you being defeated by your own internal, abstract emotional hang-ups.

2. Make your meals fresh every day. This boy right here rides his bike to work and 9 times out of 10 will hit a Whole Foods on the way home to pick up some fresh food for din-din.

3. If you're really not into stopping by the store every day, then join an organic food co-op. You'll have your favorite fresh fruit and vegetables delivered to your door every week. This would help you time your business in a way that lets you get rid of stuff and not feel bad (in this case, after one week).

Of course, there is a fourth option which consists of actually eating fresh weevils-which, after talking to the internet for five minutes, I have concluded would be at least as healthy as hitting the chocolate milk pipe.

Dear Joel,

About a month ago, I got a bike-well, actually two bikes-but some of my friends prefer to call these bikes "stolen." These aren't close friends, and they tend to jump to conclusions without knowing all the facts.

The facts are: I got the first bike in a simple swap. You see, my neighbor was moving and gave me her red 10-speed. One afternoon, on my way to a birthday party, the handlebars fell off. I had no other option but to trade it for a blue 12-speed that I found on a porch. To wit, I made the party on time.

The second bike I got was a tricycle. I don't ride tricycles much, but the blue bike had a flat tire and I needed to get to a dentist appointment.

My dilemma is that my friends are beginning to ask me to get bikes for them, and they're willing to pay $50 a pop. I don't have rent money for August and my cat has cancer. Tell me the right path.

Sincerely,

Bike finder

Here's a story:

So, when I was in San Francisco a couple of months ago, I was hanging out with my friend Kevin on the Haight or in the Haight or on Haight or whatever people say, and we saw this kid sitting on the sidewalk with a thing of change and a sign that said: "I do this so I don't have to mug people." How totally out is that, right? So, I thought to myself, "What about, like, getting a job or asking someone to give you some work in exchange for food or change or whatever it is you're looking for." That's not what I said, though. What I said was this: "Wow."

Wow, man.

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