Dear Diver,

I’ve arrived at a late night crossroads and need the Diver’s advice. Lately, I’ve noticed that every time my girlfriend goes home before me, I wind up having a lousy time. Hanging out with the dudes just doesn’t seem to have the same luster anymore. Have I lost my mojo or am I just getting old?

– Rambling man, Durango

Dear Ben Stein’s voice,

Have you ever considered the possibility that you’re just clingy and boring? A wet blanket? A fun-killer? Sucking the excitement out of the room like some sort of sloth-like social parasite? Because I used to get that all the time. Let me tell you what helps. Sign up for Netflix, adopt several cats, never leave your house, and convince yourself that this is what you’ve always wanted.

– Takes one to know one, The Diver

Dear Diver,

What’s the official definition of “Holidazzle?” I see the word all over Durango but can’t seem to find it in Webster’s.

– Rob, via e-mail

Dear Grampa Rob,

What is a Webster’s? According to the INTERNET, Holidazzle is a capitalistic conspiracy. Some conspiracy theorists believe the powers-that-be have been brainwashing people for years under the guise of “festivity.” Yule logs? Chemtrails in your fireplace. The same crappy holiday songs on repeat in every store? Hypnosis. Snowmen? Spies. Snowflakes? Tracking devices. Grandmothers? Robots. Holidazzle is the trigger-word that sets off your brainwashing, causing you to buy crap any sane person would never buy. Like Anne Geddes calendars, Werther’s Original candy, or your 10th holiday CD by Kenny G (also a robot).

– If it’s on the internet it must be true, The Diver

Dear Diver,

I’m an impoverished college student and have been training up for Turkey Day. What’s the Diver’s recommendation for making some room/relieving pressure and freeing up space for extra calories. I’d like to make the most of the feast before I climb back on the mac’n’ cheese wagon.

– Lewis Fort, via email

Dear Future-impoverished-college-grad,

You might as well skip Turkey Day completely. Why raise your hopes? Why taunt your body with luxury only to shove down over-processed cheesy sadness the next day? You’re living a lie for one day that sets the other 364.25 days up for failure. If you really want to do yourself a favor on Thanksgiving, cut up a piece of bologna, mix it in with your mac’n’cheese and tell yourself, “This is as good as it’s going to get.”

– Keepin’ it real, the Diver