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ASK MAX

June 22, 2006 Edition

Dear Max,

I have been searching and searching, where can I buy Cinnamilk? Mommy is so kind to make me some in the morning with breakfast, but I would really like to buy the pre-made kind just in case mommy forgets to make it for me. Please help, She has already forgot one time!! And I can’t live without my Cinnamilk!!!

TannerFlatFacePuffyPaws *Craving Cinnamilk*

Dear T,

Ah, Cinnamilk. This cinnamon and milk delectation, for those not in the know, figures prominently in my Mom’s new book, Stupid and Contagious, available now through amazon.com (click here), bn.com, and fine booksellers everywhere. One day, it will be as ubiquitous as The Da Vinci Code (which is available in your produce section), but for now, it’s like the stars of American Idol – not bought but made. Cinnamon Toast Crunch cereal residue in milk is the home-cooked version, but one day, it’ll eclipse plain milk like salsa took out potato-chip dip. I won’t spoil the ending of the book, because then you wouldn’t need to read it, and I’d be back begging for scraps, doing the old soft-paw on 42nd St. (Not pretty — I have two left feet.) Nor will I spoil the ending of real life. Because, keep your eyes peeled: Cinnamilk may be coming to a carton near you. And when it does, leave my cut in my bowl; I’ll take it from there.

Dear Max,

What do you think about MySpace?

My dog has a MySpace…

Dear My My,

I love it. I’d say we’re two peas in a pod, but I don’t have a dog. Like golf on the guy’s t-shirt, a bad day at MySpace beats a good day at the office. At the same time, I realize it’s the Internet equivalent of the pet rock. Sure, it lets you meet people you might otherwise never have stumbled across, unless you happened to be at the bar on a night when they were binging. Then again, many MySpaceCadets aren’t of “legal” drinking age, so the bar won’t do. (By the way – kids, you’ll have all the time in the world to meet lascivious perverts in the real world; leave MySpace for exchanging band advertisements.) But like the pet rock, MySpace is bound in the end to do not much more than produce a few hundred million dollars for its creators. So blog away! And next year, when you’ve found something new we can do together let me know first. I could do a lot with my half of a few hundred million.

Hey Max:

I’m completely and hopelessly in love with an amazing girl. She said she didn’t want to be friends anymore and won’t even speak to me since I told her how I feel. I don’t know what to do, I always think about her. Was it wrong to tell her?

Pat

Pat Pat Pat:

It’s never wrong to express your true feelings. With this case being the one possible exception. What was in your head? Women are inscrutable; they simply can’t be scruted. I know it’s hard, but you’ve got to let her go. Or get her back, which could be harder. Try this: tell her you were just kidding – “wasn’t that fricking hilarious!” — and you want to resume the friendship on a new, more sarcastic level. For instance, if she wants to play-act tongue-kiss with you, or horse around with her top off, that would be hysTERical. Naturally, she’ll be confused: that’s when you say, “GOD! I can’t believe you thought I was serious! Why would I ever want you? I mean, you’re all *right* and everything, but I’m not *into* you.” That, of course, is guaranteed to make her fall for you. This is why most marriages seem so miserable. Two crazy knockabouts, madly in love with each other – both afraid to express their true feelings for fear of repelling their mate. So I predict marriage is in your future. Someday. To someone. As my friend with the parks department says, there are plenty of fish on the beach.

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