Dear Diver,
So, after a few drinks in Vegas one night (no lies) I accompanied a friend to a tattoo parlor. She got a skull tattoo on her wrist, and swept up in the moment (I have no tattoos), I decided to get three small dots on my wrist to signify my three best friends. Anyway, afterward, my friends tried to claim that it’s not a “real tattoo” and that it looks like something they could draw on with a Sharpie. So my question: what exactly constitutes a “real” tattoo? And more importantly, should I get it removed, mostly to stop the endless harassment from my so-called friends?
– Inky Situation

Dear Kat Von Dork,
Your tattoo is about as “real” as veggie burgers, O’Doul’s, tofurkey, and when you say, “no really, I can be spontaneous.” The ONLY way you can rectify this is by getting the ultimate tattoo. Which, we all know,  is a cyborg eagle ripping out of your skin, clutching a tiger with flame stripes that’s biting a velociraptor with a mustache that’s clawing a shark that’s fighting a bear that’s punching a dolphin with a hello kitty tattoo. Put an end to the peer pressure with this bad boy.
– DO IT, DO IT NOW. -the Diver

Dear Diver,
I am dating this girl and she just started snowboarding, so we’ve gone up together a few times. Anyway, she keeps talking about when we have a big powder day and how she can’t wait till “we” go riding together up at the mountain. Well, she’s from Oklahoma and I’m pretty sure she’s never even skied powder in her life. How do I gently break it to her about the “no friends on a powder day” rule without pissing her off and wrecking my chances for a good ride later, if you catch my drift.
– Out in the Cold

Dear Numbskull,
The “no friends on a powder day” rule is indeed golden, but there’s a point in a man’s life where even the powder day rule must be forsaken. Like the point where you have a real girlfriend, who wants to spend real time with you. The point where you stop drinking Code Red Mountain Dew, tell your Call of Duty online “girlfriend” Komiko it’s over, and inform your mom you’re moving out. You might have to sacrifice a few solo runs in the powder, but it’s better this way. In another year, Komiko’s voice will drop, and you’ll realize you’ve been conned by a 13-year-old boy who now has all the info he needs to steal your identity.
– Konnichi Wa, the Diver

Dear Diver,
There’s this certain checker at the grocery store who’s overly friendly and always chatting everybody up. Except me. Without fail, whenever I get in his line and it’s my turn, I flash him a big smile and he instantly clams up. It’s not that it upsets me so much as makes me wonder. Is it my clothes? The groceries I am buying? The way I load my cart? Or do I just not have that “super local” status? If not, then when?
–Dogged

Dear Dogged,
Does this sound familiar? “Hey good lookin’. You came through my checkout line yesterday, wearing those hot mom jeans, flashing a big smile, with a copy of Cooking with Paula Deen and Knitters Quarterly in your cart. You asked what I was doing later, I said playing pinball at the laundromat. That’s what I do most nights, actually. You should drop by. Please.” No? Well that’s what I posted on Craigslist Lost Connections FOR WEEKS. With no response. I was burned by the Silver Flame (that was the name I gave you in the fan-fiction superhero novel I wrote about us). Also you load your cart like an idiot. You can’t put all your fiber pills in the top without flipping the plastic child seat guard up. You’ve had at least 80 years to learn this, geez.
– Cordially, MfW-Durango (the Diver)

In a sticky situation?