Ask H.A.T.
“Tangentia at its best!”
The following, as always, are actual questions from actual readers desperate to grasp on to our coattails. Grasp away….
Dear ASKHAT,
I am a long-time reader of ASKHAT and big fan of both of you! I was wondering if you could please answer this question for your *number one fan*:
If stranded on an island with a lifetime supply of peanut butter, would you choose salted or unsalted type.
Thanks much,
Salty Gal
Dear Salty
Hyperion: I didn't even know this was a choice. I guess I don't know my PB. I thought the big decision was crunchy/smooth. I like both, but must say that smooth works better for some spreads (and for cooking), but try telling that to my non-smooth family.
I do remember with horror some sort of gourmet peanut butter we had as a child. All the oil was on the top of it, and you had to mix it up. The PB had this weird brown baby-diarrhea look to it, and it didn't taste nearly as good as a Skippy or Jif. (We were never rich enough for afford Peter Pan).
I still revulse at the memory.
Tracy Lynn: As much as I hate to say it, I'm all about the sodium. Peanut butter without salt is just plain wrong, and if you don't agree, well, then, I can't help you. Weirdo.
Hyperion: I want to call people names too! If you don't like salted peanut butter....you're worse than Hitler!
Tracy Lynn: Dude, you can't jump from 'Weirdo' to telling people they're worse than Hitler. Try to work your way up to the Hitler slur, by starting with freak or maybe dumbass. Ok?
Hyperion: I have so much to learn.
Speaking of Which…..
Dear Hyperion and Tracy,
If, say, a nuclear bomb were implanted in your brain, and it was about to explode, who would you want to be standing near you when you go?
Signed,
Strangely interested
Dear Strange,
Hyperion: I'd want the entire world within a few feet.
A) without me the world is doomed and
B) you laugh, but if we were all going to die, it might be kind of cool. (Sorta how everyone came together outside of Ned Flander's bunker.)
For one thing, just getting everyone in the same building would be neato mosquito. The question...where? My votes: either that island dome from THE TRUMAN SHOW, or, if for some reason it doesn't actually exist,
Tracy Lynn: You mean some reason, like, it was a movie?
Hyperion: You know, SCHINDLER'S LIST was a movie too. Are you saying the Holocaust didn't happen?
Hyperion: You walked right into it with your poor choice of analogy. Don’t be blaming me when you're shunned come Nuclear Head Day. I bet no one wants to stand next to you.
Tracy Lynn: You can't just jump into Holocaust denial like that. That's like saying are you a vegetarian? and if they answer yes, accusing them of being like Hitler. It's dumbassery of a fairly high level.
Hyperion: Tracy, that's patently absurd. I would never say Vegetarians was like Hitler. They are much much much worse
Tracy Lynn: See, now you've confused Vegetarians with Vegans. You're doing good, pal: Alienating huge swaths of our readership with nary a thought.
Hyperion: Dude, you're totally right. Vegetarians are poor misguided souls, whom hopefully you can trick into giving up their fries by convincing them the fries are from the potato bug. (After all, if they are dumb enough to be Vegetarians, who knows what they might believe?) Vegans, on the other hand, deserve our mockery. You should never fight them, mind, seeing as how they're usually too sickly to do anything but wait for the sweet merciful embrace of death, but mockery is a definite go.
Tracy Lynn: You are so totally asking for a PETA demonstration. Hyperion: If it's the kind where models go naked rather than wear fur, I sez bring on the edumacation! If it's the kind where hairy-legged girls from (shudder) Vassar earnestly inform me why I'm wrong while secretly worrying that their Christina Aguilera album will get them kicked out of the Lilith Fair/Take Back the 11:30 In the Morning Rally, count me out!
Tracy Lynn: HA!
Dear Hyperion (only),
Why are you obsessed with Tracy?
Signed,
Querulous
Dear Querulous,
Hyperion: Who said anything about obsessed? Just because I have a healthy knowledge of Tracy Lynn and keep her in my line of sight at all times is no indication of obsession. It's like with a feral dog. You pay attention to where they are in the room, whether the dog is chained up or not.
Tracy Lynn: Oh yeah, it's not like the only thing keeping you from stalking me is the fact that you live in Canada. I think that the reason why he is obsessed with me is because I don't slavishly follow his every demented whim. Plus my bodacious rack is extremely alluring.
Hyperion: As I keep saying, I'm a man of science. You want me to believe in this "so-called" bodacious rack, I need physical proof.
Tracy Lynn: And for the five millionth time, I WILL NOT SHOW YOU MY RACK! PERVERT!
Hyperion: Well, you can't blame a guy for swinging at a pitch. For the moment I am declaring that Tracy's bodacious rack be referred to only as "Tracy's Allegedly Bodacious Rack" (TABR), in the same category as Bigfoot, The Chupacabra, and the Keebler Elves.
But if I could turn serious for a moment. I may not be obsessed with Tracy, but I'm sure as hell glad I get to work with her. From the very beginning she saw the possibilities, both in this venture and others that are to follow. (And aren't you all just dying of curiosity now?)
Tracy is irreverent and sarcastic, and Lord knows not even Anthony Hopkins playing Hannibal Lecter could fake that much blood-lust, but to me those are positives. You know what else rocks about her? She's easy to work with, she's creative and fun-loving, she totally doesn't get uptight, and she has that certain je ne sais quois that lets you know you're in the presence of someone truly special.
She may be wrong in all our arguments...ah, what the heck; I'm feeling emotional. We may disagree from time to time, but that only makes it sweeter. Fridays are fun again for the first time since a young Steve Irkel and the incredible team of Suzanne Sommers and Patrick Duffy ruled the airwaves. You know why that is? It ain't me. It sure as hell ain't you, the fickle public. It's Our Gal Friday: Tracy Lynn.
Forever in peace may she wave.
Tracy Lynn: You know that's really sweet. So sweet, we may need to get the diabetics out of the room.
But you’re still an Asshat.
Hyperion: And on that note, the George Washington Rule is invoked (always quit when as Asshat comes out), so we’ll say goodbye, for now. Keep those questions rolling in (askthehat@gmail.com), and you too can be famous by appearing in our column. Oh, and people: use your imagination. You’re looking at a combined IQ of 412. The least you can do is make us work for it.
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