I’m sick of everything. The Super Bowl was stupid, television sucks, skiers hate snowboarders and vice versa, and everything drains me. Am I depressed, and if so, what can I do about it?

– Mitch

Dear Mitch,

Don’t worry about your depression. All you need is good old-fashioned meds and everything will get better. My personal favorite med is a good Old-Fashioned with extra bourbon.



Now that the Grammys are over, can you explain the difference between the album of the year and the record of the year?

– Ginsel, via e-mail

Dear Ginsel,

“Record” refers to what most of us call a “single” or “song,” while “album” refers to a long-playing release which usually includes a number of singles/songs. My guess is that when the Grammys were first given out, records could only hold one song, hence the designation of a single as a “record.” A record “album” can thus be seen as a collection of records, much as a photo album is a collection of photographs. Perhaps if you were a 100 percent certified genius like me, you could have figured this out on your own.

– Thanks, Diver


My neighbor is driving me nuts! He’s constantly partying, cranking music late into the night and being a general nuisance. I’m sick of it. I’ve called the police on numerous occasions, and they come over and speak with him, but this never stops. I’m about to take the law into my own hands, however I feel my anger pitted against his drunken ramblings will end up with me hurting him. What should I do?

– Diane

Dear Diane,

I talked to your neighbor. You actually drive him nuts with your dull ways! Look, he’s just trying to show you the healing powers of a rock-n-roll party. Why can’t you just lighten up? Next time you hear that sweet ol’ rock-n-roll coming from his house, just pop on over and P-A-R-T-Y!

– Yours truly, Diver


Diver: Dan Groth of Buzz House/Mai Thai

Facts: Dan wants to get paid for his Diver services.



Got a dirty little secret?
Looking for guidance to remedy a sticky situation?

Seek help from the master of the kitchen! The Dish Diver has solutions to life's little messes. Send your problems to "Ask the Diver." - By mail to Durango Telegraph - Attn Diver -534 Main Ave., Durango, CO 81301; by email at telegraph@durangotelegraph.com, or by fax at 259-0448.

Dear Diver,

I have a bizarre quandary. I have an unnatural aversion to the “McDonald Land Gang,” which keeps me from enjoying the fast-food chain’s tasty treats or even entering the premises without a terrible feeling of dread. My refusal to go to the restaurant is affecting my relationships with others. I feel this fear may stem from the strangeness of having a skinny clown as a mascot for a temple of heft. What can I do?

– Signed,

Lost in the hefty Midwest

Dear Lost,

I can sympathize with you, but for reasons of my own. You see, years ago I was in McDonaldland working on the campaign to get Mayor McCheese re-elected. One day, I witnessed some ballot-box tampering by Ronald McDonald and decided to report it to the police. What I didn’t realize, however, was that Sheriff Big Mac had been receiving payoffs from the Mayor McCheese/Ronald McDonald political machine for years.

I immediately got thrown in the slammer on some cooked-up charges and was put in the same cell as the notorious Hamburglar, who had murdered at least 30 Fry Guys during his vicious career. (To this day, I get a cold sweat when I hear anything resembling the “rubble rubble” he always muttered).

After my eight-year sentence, I swore I’d never return to McDonaldland, regardless of the entreaties by my beloved Birdie McBird. I arrived in the United States, changed my name and got plastic surgery. You may know me from my original name: Grimace. I suggest everyone stay away from McDonalds, for your sake and my own.

– Sincerely,

The Diver






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