Ray's Place: How to Excel at Work; This One Trick For Perfect Sleep; The Real Reason Boats Don't Sink (That They Don't Want You To Know) (Patreon)

Dear Readers: Ray answered everything rather curtly this week, so please be warned in advance that his Truth comes punting upon a river of vinegar, rather than settling about our lotus-crook’d thighs like hookah from the nostrils of Ganesh, as is typical. It seems he was in a bad mood after a holiday car-camping trip where he slept poorly, didn’t get to eat what he wanted, and had to be grimy. 

He’ll shape up and attend more productively to your quandaries next week. 

—Ed. 

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Ray! My boss says my performance is no bueno, but not like, bad enough to get fired, they just want me to transfer to some other department (TBD). How do I lateral over without making a mess of things? —Tom

Dear Tom, 

Okay look, I’ll be straight with you. I had to go camping this weekend because Beef and Molly rented some “campsite” (really just some government dirt near a parking spot, on a asphalt loop with four dozen other All-American losers doin’ the same thing). I installed one ’a them rooftop glampin’ units on the Escalade hoping that would keep me outta the bugaboo conga line, but damn if you ain’t got to scramble Half Dome every time you need to tinkle in the night, and I hurt my ankle. Then it was my solution to tinkle in an empty, but empties ain’t an exact science when you’re all gilled on Tanq and Humboldt Cheddar, so that happened. Then Beef made these terrible gray gummy hash browns for breakfast ’cause that man ain’t got no sense of natural potato.   

So, I ain’t got the key to the mental toolbox this week, and that’s just how it’s landin’. I am fighting a BAD mood and everybody’s lucky this column ain’t just an animated GIF of a middle finger going straight down into cold porridge.  

Anyhow, Tom, sounds like your problem is bein’ okay with scuttin’ around in Career Steerage. Your doctor ain’t got a pill for Pride, so I suggest doin’ push-ups and marathons and bowhunting all day every day until you’re a ragin’, ripplin’, diamond-nipplin' animal who is also an entrepreneur, and Confucius. Seems to be the message from the main dudes of podcasts, anyway. 

— Ray of Hope (That I Never Go Camping Again) —    

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When are you ever going to get showed up — bentleyjet

Dear bentleyjet, 

They got quadratic computers doin’ the polygons day and night homefront, homegricket, home-time lemonade, but ain’t no word on the wire ’bout a done deal. I ’spect you could cut that line and get the same effect as havin’ lesser men than me on the me problem. 

— Do You Think Morgan Freeman Would Take Just This Line As A Role? Ray —  

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RAY! I'm the kind of guy who takes a minute or two of scrolling scrolling scrolling to wind down before falling asleep, then it's three hours past my bedtime and my brain's hardwired to ruminate over every wrong that has ever happened. I'm curious, what's your bedtime routine? How do you smoothly transition from awake to sleep? — Bungus Bronbo

Drugs, fool! You leave cookies for Santa, right? Teeth for the Fairy? What makes you think you ain’t got to leave candy for the Sandman!? Don’t ask me such pattycake questions, son!  

/—Ray-diating Drug Lines From Cartoon Of Own Head—/

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Classiest dessert? — Omnithea 

You’re in here every damn week, Omnithea! Do ping pong or get a hobby or somethin’, let other people have a second! This ain’t 1-900-TIDDLE-ME-THIS! 

Oh shit, you keep doin’ this ’cause you WANT me to get scoldy! You old swerve-n-perv! Dammit, I got to screen you people better. Sorry I realized that so late, everybody. I got played like a fiddle in a fire, and now I lost some face. Ugh. What a week. First there was that whole camping debacle. Then the dishwasher leaked on the floor so I got it replaced but then I realized it’s the espresso machine leakin’ in such a way as to get the dishwasher blamed, and now I’m thrustin’ a $5k bill around in my shorts for any kind of pleasure from that sitch. Fuck! Who helps the helpin’ man 

— R. — 

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Confidential to GaryDeNunzio196: A boat don’t sink ’cause it has sides. Think about it. You ever try to rest your dinner plate in the bath tub? It might work for a second, but pretty soon it’s Taco Tuesday in your belly folds, all picadillo in the button.       

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