Dear Diver,

Wedding season is hitting my family hard this year. We just got back from a big wedding in the “Garden State,” have two Durango weddings this summer and have a close cousin getting married on Halloween in Portland. What’s a good choice for a wedding gift that won’t break the bank? The airfare’s already eating us alive. Please help.

– Hannah in Durango

Yeah Hannah,

Well thank god you got the New Jersey wedding out of the way. Did you know that folks living in the Jersey Pine Barrens shot bullets into the Hindenburg blimp thinking it was a German invasion, which subsequently led to its explosion and crash to earth? Jersey is America’s ugly mole; we tell everybody it’s a beauty mark but it’s really just a hairy, malignant growth. Let’s see, for the two Durango weddings, you should politely decline the invitation due to the fact that you can’t get time off of your three jobs. For the Portland Halloween wedding, you should dress as a Prozak pill holding an umbrella and tell them you are there to keep them happy. If they are really close cousins they will be thrilled.

– Diver

Dear Diver,

My child has a pair of problem grandparents. They know the guidelines but still take my son to McDonald’s, Burger King and Wendy’s, load him up on sugary sweets and buy him useless junk at Wal-Mart. I know it sounds trivial, but have you ever seen a

6-year-old after an extra-large Dairy Queen Blizzard? What do you suggest?

– Ralph via e-mail

Dear beloved Ralph,

There are few things I love more than a Wendy’s Frosty. Chocolate of course; why is there even a vanilla option? That’s like asking if you want a battery in a new car, or if you want holes in your crotchless underwear. I bet those guys at Wendy’s headquarters were like, “Hmm…how can we save a few pennies and still feed the sheeple? I know, let’s fill the buns with sugar, process the burgers at 50 percent beef, 49 percent mystery, 1 percent Wendy, and fill a 40-ounce cup with 12 ounces of pop and 28 ounces of ice. Oh, we already did that? Well, let’s take the chocolate out of the Frosty.” I hear its only Nesquick, but that’s not the point. I mean who do they think they are? And you know what’s really tasty? Eat the Frosty down a bit, fill the remaining void with french-fries, mix well, and devour. Man that’s good. Can we go there after you read this advice column? As far as the grandparents go, I have three things to say. Welcome to America, control your children, and question the elderly. Jeez, does your kid hold his grandparents at gunpoint and force them into Dairy Queen? Because if he doesn’t have a concealed-weapons permit, he could get in a lot of trouble. I think you can get those at Wal-Mart. Cheers.

– Diver

Dear Diver,

Please help! My husband refuses to wash his grill utensils. He argues that the flame roasting kills the bacteria and everything will be just fine. But the tongs still have last Independence Day’s BBQ sauce on them, and I’ve

repeatedly witnessed a neighborhood dog licking the stainless. What to do?

– Susie from Crestview

Dear Susie,

Watching that last firework explode, I knew they had forgotten about me. I lay straddled upon the grill handle, dangling there and wondering when they would remember, “Oh honey, could ya get the tongs from outside?” But alas, I would soon witness the passing of the seasons, all the while covered in smokey-sugary-ketchupy goodness. The sauce became part of me, and we shared blistering winters and sloppy-dog tongues as well as occasional thrustings into hot coals and raw meat. The spring that sprung me back had sprang into disrepair, and I no longer flexed as once in my youth. My serrated teeth became encrusted with the sauce, my shiny aluminum no longer a reflective surface. Even the lowly grill brush felt pity for me. Sure, the fire killed my germs, but this BBQ-cocoon lay me deep into funk. Then one day, I came to in the trash bin next to a Gillette Mark 5. He said we all get replaced. After all, we ARE only $5.

– Diver