How Do I Make A Bagel?

C'mon pup

Q. How do I make a bagel?

A. Right. A bagel. Have you ever eaten a bagel before? It is not that hard. First, I like to cut the bagel with a knife, or sometimes if I am feeling spritzy and kick-A I will chop it with an ax (“The Ax”). Do not worry, you will not hurt the bagel if you chop it with The Ax. A bagel has no brain. It is just a bread. So you can chop it without hurting its body, because as I said before: no brain. Not one drop of brain. It has no family either. No home. No wireless phone. No priest. No pure psychology. It is not beholden to the Stocks, or the Bonds, either (it is like, Huh? I am a Baggel not a broker, who cares about that dang stuff!).

Ha ha ok so, first, cut the dang Bangel. Then, once cut, the Bangel will need a sauce. Some sauces are better than others. I will explain. But first: Just shower it. Immerse the Bangel in the sauce of your dreams. You can put a jelly sauce, yes, but it will drip out the sides and fall onto your safari shorts. Your boss Cassie will say “Is that Jelly or Blood” and you will have to say “Cassie I cannot lie: Jelly is the sauce of my heart” and then you will not be allowed to talk to customers anymore.

You can put on a hard cream cheese too, but it will melt and become a type of wood glue, and when you open the bagel it will make a sucking sound. This sound will make everyone sad. People will try to kiss the bagel, too, thinking that the sucking is for them. That the sucking is an invitation. YOUR Bangel! It is not for them, obviously. But when bread makes a human sound, can you blame a human mind for how the human mind works? I don’t know. But I don’t think so.

I forgot what I was going to say about different sauces. It doesn’t matter. Just choose one and stop worrying so much, god. And then: Bangel. Eat it right up. And don’t forget to have some fun.

Q. What will help me to get over her? I am still in love with her. Help.

A. I probably need some more information here (I am walking into this with “No Context At All”) but let me first tell you some things that will CERTAINLY NOT help. First, it will not help to kiss someone who looks like her. This is rule number 1. This will hurt worse than you would ever expect, and in fact may destroy your mind. Do not try it.

More things: It will not help to drive by her apartment and wonder what kind of cereal she is eating, is she asleep, is she wearing those knee-high poofy socks, is she listening to our song (“Jesus Row My Boat Ashore” by Jerry Klein and the Woodclappers), etc. It will not help to think about her in the shower. It will not help to pretend like you do not love her still. It will not help to say to your friends “No I am fine, I am not in love with her AT ALL, I am glad we broke up in fact, ha ha ha, because consider this: Love is weird and made up. It is not even real. I was just being a weirdo and confused and I was Heartsodden. Happy is the soul who sees through the deceits of Love!” Do not say any of that. You will sound like a depressed dum dum who knows nothing about the world or the people in it.

The only thing that will help you, my friend, is this: Accept the loss. Picture the magnitude of it: it is larger than you could have ever imagined. It is deep and barrel-shaped and is the size of a jaggy ice mountain in Carpathia (Which I think is in Greece? Will Ask Jeeves later). Truly, my friend, let’s be REAL honest right now: she cannot and will not be replaced. There is nobody, not one single person, who can even partially fill the space she left. You know this is true. I know this is true. And to be true, to accept the wrenching reality of her absence, is what will heal you.

I know this advice sounds wrong—but no. This is somehow our lot as humans on this cold & beautiful Earth. When we accept our absolute hopelessness, it is then that we can begin inching toward Hope.

Q. How can I find my soulmate? I feel like I’ve looked everywhere and I am looking every day.

A. You need to stop looking. Because they are looking for you too, and if BOTH of you are looking, then you will never find each other, because neither of you knows what to look for. I mean, imagine it: you are walking along in the city center, eating a German Pancake, and your soulmate is walking along in the city center, eating a Black Forest Chocolate Torte, and you miss each other completely because you are looking up and out with the expectation that your soulmate would be eating the SAME delicious treat as you. But that is not correct. A soulmate is something different, and they cannot be discovered via brain analysis or outward scanning or pastry comparison. No. They can only be experienced. So please do this: walk past the throngs of cakeeaters in the city center, smell big whiffs of their Cannolis and Belgian Waffles and Casadielles, and just wait for the feeling. You know what it is. The feeling. The feeling of being found. And then, when you feel it, you’ll see them standing there, smiling and beautiful and slathered in Sunday cream.