Saturday, November 28, 2009

Night Terrors

Dear Dr. G,

I need some advice. I've been happily married for 6 years. My wife is a beautiful, caring, loving woman, and I love her to death. Unfortunately, I can't sleep in the same room as her anymore because she farts in her sleep, and it's not just one or two scattered about; it's an endless string of loud, honking farts that would wake up even the soundest of sleepers. I've asked her to see a doctor, but she doesn't even believe it's happening. I probably wouldn't believe it either. I don't know where she gets the gas. Luckily, they're mostly odorless. Have you heard of this before? What can I do? Please help!!!

-Travis T.
Snark, KY


Your wife's nocturnal flatulence almost certainly stems from a rare, but not totally unheard of condition known as a deviated rectum. She's basically snoring out her rear end because the walls of her rectum are off center with relation to her butt opening. When she reaches REM sleep, her muscles relax completely and that's when the parade begins. The condition causes some other messy problems that she likely hasn't told you about, but don't worry about that.

There are a few solutions that I'm aware of, the most effective being surgical correction of the misalignment. It's a relatively simple procedure, but like any surgery, it'll cost you big money. If you don't want to dish out the cash, you can try a device manufactured by Biggum's Pharmaceutacals called The Butt Muffler. It wraps around the waist and stifles unwanted anal noise. Most reviews of the product are positive, but many users report experiencing extreme pain with the device. That's all I can tell you. Keep in mind that I'm not a butt doctor, and you should always consult an expert whenever you experience disgusting problems like this. Good luck.


Thursday, October 22, 2009


Dear Dr. Gork,

Could you post a picture of yourself? You sound sexy. Am I being too forward?



Thanks for the flattering input. I've fiddled with the idea of putting a picture of myself on here somewhere. I guess now is as good a time as any. I hope I don't disappoint though. There is now a picture of me from a few years ago under my profile.


Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Hunger Strike

Hey Doc!

I have a 4 year old son who is obsessed with eating his own boogers. At first I was totally disgusted by this behavior, but this morning I woke up and thought, "Maybe this should be encouraged behavior." With all of your knowledge, I'm hoping you can tell me the pros and cons. Thanks for your time.

Mama Booger


Let me start by saying that I abhor the word "booger" so from here on I shall inexplicably refer to them as "primpings". Now, let's look at this objectively. Firstly, as much as we don't want to, we have to acknowledge that no matter how gross primpings seem, everyone produces them. What we choose to do with them is a more personal matter.

Ostensibly, the eating of ones primpings looks like a pretty innocuous venture. I mean, if it was in our body to begin with, putting it back probably isn't that big of a deal, right? Maybe, but would you put anything else that falls out of your body in your mouth? I thought not.

Before we examine pros and cons, consider the composition of primpings. Here's a terrible, hard-to-decipher pie chart that lays it out for you:

Primping Composition (by percentage)

The chart speaks for itself. Primpings are dried up mucus balls that have captured undesirables and worked themselves to the front of your nasal openings. I would say that encouraging your children to munch on them is probably a bad idea, but ultimately harmless. You say he's obsessed; obsessive behavior is usually pretty healthy, but a primping fettish is disgusting. If there are any pros, I should doubt they are weighty enough to offset the nastiness. If I were you, I'd nip this one in the nose before your son becomes addicted.


Sunday, October 18, 2009

Heavens to Betsy

Dr. Gork,

Thanks for taking the time...

I need your help. I quit my janitorial job a few weeks ago so that I could focus on my dream. I've always wanted to be an inventor; I always hear about people making big bucks off of their inventions and I want to get in on that. My problem is that I must have inventor's block or something because I can't think of any good stuff. Do you have any invention suggestions for me? Thanks man.

-Chester Plumpings,Goldwater, CA


As you apparently guessed, I do have a rather prolific proclivity for invention. However, correct me if I'm wrong, if I tell you what to invent, doesn't that make me the inventor? Aside from violating all the probity of the Inventor's Code, it doesn't get you anywhere as an inventor to be ganking my superstar ideas. What I can do is try to help you get in the state of mind you need to be in to make some sweet and easy cash.

The first thing you need to know is that no matter how innovative and nifty your product is, nothing is going to happen overnight. There are numerous patent laws and copyright considerations you need to familiarize yourself with, not to mention marketing ploys and business cheatings. I guess what I'm saying is that it may have been a teency bit premature to quit your job.

Oh well. What's done is done. There are only 2 approaches to invention: unification and simplification . They are what they sound like. If you take the unification path, just look for things that people like to have or enjoy to do and combine them into one thing. To use a personal example, in the late 80's I invented 'Heavy Metal Jigging'. I knew that people loved traditional Irish Garb Dancing, and I also knew that people couldn't get enough rock music. I simply merged them. It didn't really catch on anywhere, save for a few remote corners of Bavaria, but you get the idea. I included a marketing video that I made of a jigging festival to help you picture it.

I suggest you steer clear of the simplification strategy as you most likely aren't intelligent enough to pull it off. I'll throw you a little bone though. What are the 2 most popular daily activities for all humans? If you guessed afternoon naps and bowel movements, you're right on the money. Find a way to combine them and you'll be swimming in green. Good luck weirdo.


Friday, October 16, 2009

Chuck rhymes with lotsa stuff...

"Dr" Gork,

I have to say, I think it's dangerously irresponsible for you to post this garbage on the internet. I really think you need to be exposed for the fraud that you are. Your advice is unwaveringly terrible. Your responses are grandiloquent, verbose, condescending, and utterly bombastic. I've got you figured out. You proffer insipid advice using a series of confusing, run-on sentences culminating in some cankerous remark leaving your reader befuddled and ashamed. I guess my question is, how do you sleep at night? Please warn your readers that you lack the accumen to do what you're doing. Thank you.

P.S. I found like 10 grammatical errors in your blog.

-Chuck Suckles
Muppleton, VT


I don't usually publish the slandering hate mails that I receive (and I get a lot...it's about a 60/40 split in favor of vituperance). Afterall, I wouldn't be much of a self-promoter if I did, eh? Don't worry, I don't take it personally. I found your remarks to be intriguing though. You've clearly examined my posts with careful scrutiny; I mean you did find all 10 of my secret grammatical Easter eggs. Despite your clear enthusiasm for my entries, you proceed to vilify me as if I have some virulent ulterior motive. I assure you, and all my thousands of readers, I do not. Also, I have the perfect amount of accumen to answer any question about anything.

As to how I sleep at night, I would liken it to that of how a baby might sleep in the arms of a beautiful angel floating gently above the whitest clouds you've ever seen as she sings to me heavenly lullabies and ever so slightly rocks me to and fro. So, yeah, pretty fucking soundly. This is probably the point in the post where you expect me to execrate you, call you a buffoon, and send you on your way. Well, I'll spare you this time, but if you write back, I shant be so magnanimous.


Thursday, October 15, 2009

Umlauts and Cumquats

Dr. Gork,

I can't tell you how good it is to have you back. I've been mustering the courage to ask this question for a long time, and I know everyone wants to ask but won't--Why are we men so attracted to boobs? I mean, when you consider what they really are, doesnt the whole thing seem a little overdone?
Wheeling, WV


That question has been asked since the dawn of questions. If you didnt know that, you haven't paid any attention. Joe Dirt once mused rhetorically, "I don't know, why is the sky blue? Why are boobs good?" Myriads of theories have been put forth, but none have been proven.

One school of thought is the almost disgustingly pragmatic and logical notion that the attraction is somehow an instinctual response; some inate feeling born into us since caveman days. That is to say, we love boobs because they characterize a superior female; one that will be able to sufficiently bear and sustain our progeny--the bigger the better as far as that goes. I personally put little stock in this idea. It seems way too easy. Plus, early humans were notorious for their dimwittedness. If you buy this theory, you're basically as dumb as a caveman, right?

If you want a more ridiculous explanation, you might be interested in Dutch mathematician Nicholas VanHüten's approach. In 1677, VanHüten released his Matchmaking Made Mathy in which he postulates that if you graphically model a woman's chesticular profile as a 2-dimensional cardioid, the area of that cardioid is equal to the sum of the digits of your perfect mate's birthday. In other words, a woman's breasts covertly (but uniquely) identify a set of perfect male suitors.

A VanHüten Cardioid

Believe it or not, the VanHüten method actually caught on for a while. In early 1700 Holland, it wouldn't be hard for you to find an Eigenbüber, or roughly translated, Breast Inspector, to carefully measure and cardioidically model your hooters, and direct you to your soul mate. Don't get too excited though. Johann Gauss, the infinitely more successful German mathematician, later called VanHüten's works "the grandest and most pompous perversion of mathematics since the invention of Pi." Besides, VanHüten posthumously debunked his own work in the 1970's when an ancestor donated his memoirs to a Dutch museum. In them, he describes his method as "fondling without all the litigation." So basically, he was just a perv.

No matter how you slice it, there's no answer to this question. I suspect if we ever do nail down an answer, we shall have discovered the meaning of life. Godspeed.


Wednesday, October 14, 2009

My Little Wigwam Quim

Dr. Gork,

Are you dead? Or getting some serious quim?

Ewan Everett
Port Talbot, Wales

Easy E,

Thanks for worrying. See below for explanation of my absence. As you will soon know, the environment I was in didnt much cater to the carnal needs of an old goat like me. Probably for the best though. We all know how hard it is to stay perspicacious with quim on the brain. Good to be back Bro.


Grounded, Bleeding, or Lost

Dear Gork,

I am considering selling my car and purchasing an Ostrich. What are your thoughts?

-Bird Trotter


On the surface this smells like an awesome idea. I mean hell, it worked for that Swiss Robinson family, but if we delve a little bit deeper, I think you'll see why this fad hasn't caught on. Let's say you sell your car, on which you would spend $5K/yr on just to maintain, for $10K. That's 15 big dogs in your pocket that you would not have otherwise had. Ok, that sounds pretty good. Now consider that a purebred African Ostrich grown to riding age will set you back anywhere from 2 to 5 grand, depending on several breeding factors. If that sounds like a lot, that's because it is. If you're feeling penurious, you could spring for a slightly less costly ratite like a Hornbacked Eurasian Emu or even a cheap Kiwi, remembering of course that the hornback is aptly named and would not make for a comfy ride unless you're into that sort of thing, and that the kiwi is about same size as a rooster; you'd crush it before you even had him/her saddled.

Ok, so you're dishing it out for the ostrich, but your profit margin is still looking good, right? Wrong. It's going to cost you at least $1K to have the bird shipped to you. An ostrich will consume on average 60lbs of Blumpkin Brand Ostrich Food ® per week, and that's if you're not riding it to work everyday. To fuel a healthy, energized riding bird, it's going to cost $10K/year.

Well, this isn't looking so good anymore. Now imagine your new bird truck gets hurt or sick. Who knows how much it'll cost you to nurse it back to riding strength. Furthermore, in 2007 alone, there were 1100 ostrich-rider related deaths. So, the moral there is if you're going to do it, wear a helmet and bring an ostrich tranquilizer every time you ride.

All that said, my advice to you is scrap all this pressure of scrimping and saving. Quit trying to cut costs and just double your spending; keep your car AND get an Ostrich. That way you'll have transportation when your bird goes down, plus you'll have the added security of a viscious, Jurassic-era bird beast patrolling your property; There isn't a thief alive wiley enough to take that on. All in all, pretty stupid question. Keep em comin'.


The Return of Gork

Dear Readers,

I've been through a lot in the last 6 months. I'm sure there are few words that can convey my sincerest apologies for not writing to you, but I must try. I can barely live with myself knowing my readership is out there thinking I'm dead, or worse.

I'm not going to mince words here. I've been living in a home for the mentally ill for the last half-year. Before you get ahead of yourselves, no, I am not "crazy". My story is a bizarre one, but if you bear with me, I think you'll understand, and with a little luck, you might even admire me. Here is my story:

I will start by telling you that I am, and have been for many years, the proud master of 3 beautiful Emporer Tamarins (if you dont know what an ET is, go here: http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/2/27/Emperor_Tamarin_portrait_2_edit1.jpg) I have 2 males, Scribbles and Beanjo, and a female named Dawson's Creek. Despite their rambunctiousness and general recalcitrant nature, they are excellent life companions. Anyways, some 13 months ago, Beanjo went missing. I soon found out that my neighbor had set a series of monkey traps up in his yard to keep my babies from destroying his prized hydrangea bushes, which they had a surprising propensity for. Well, short story long, Beanjo became entangled in one of these rather inhumane monkey traps and severely injured one of his wrists. As you might imagine, I became enraged and took my neighbor's life. As you probably don't further imagine, the judicial machine saw this as an overreaction.

As an unlicensed, untrained legal know-it-all, I naturally represented myself in court. I quickly realized that the judger was no lover of Tamarins and was leaning towards convicting me for homicide (I know, right?). That's when I pulled a slick legal maneuver and played the crazy card. After showing the jury some of my writings and even a few excerpts from this very column, I successfully tricked them into believing I was bonkered. You and I both know the score...I'm no more crazy than anybody else, but I had to do it.

Judge Elper Goldfax sentenced me to an indefinite stay at the local insanitarium house, where I was not allowed to practice any form of fake medicine. Hence, the discontinuity in this column. I am now free, living life to its half-fullest every day, and caring for Scribbles, Beanjo, D's.C., and I'm happy to announce that the three of them have produced a bouncing baby girl that has yet to be named. Any suggestions? I'm leaning towards something like "Monkey Trap" or "Injustice" in honor of my recent ordeal. I look forward to catching up on the endless backlog of reader submissions and can't wait to tackle your new problems. Oh, and get out there and shop!


The New and Improved Gork VanDonsler, PhB

Saturday, January 31, 2009

Super Dumb

Hey Gork! Is the Elder, Gardener, the lamest supervillian of all time? Or should this distinction go to the space shark that Adam Warlock battled in the '70's? I can never decide!

-Burt Blagojevich

Kokomo, IL


This one is tough. The pantheon of comic supervillains is rife with bungling buffoons vying for the distinction. Let's step outside your bounds of the Gardener and space shark (although they're worthy of the discussion) and consider some other choices. In 1964, Grundle Comics introduced a dastardly vicious supervillain called Thanksgiving Beast. He was known only for sneaking into homes and cooking huge turkey meals for no one to eat. He would then slip out the back door, leaving a massive mess for the homeowners to clean up...Grundle killed TB off in '65 after selling zero copies nationwide. Not to be outdone, Bim Shimkee released a series of graphic novels called "Elk Banshee: The Reckoning". It was the story of an undead elk beast, half elk, half well-to-do midget; doomed to roam the earth. The story lines were poor at best, usually culminating in Elk Banshee's predictable near-demise. I guess the bottomline is that I spent way too much time on this response. You can decide for yourself who the lamest one is.


Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Thrice As Nice


I have 3 butt openings. Only the big one functions, and I'm not sure where the other ones lead to. Everybody I show them to tells me I'm a mutant. What's going on here?

-Larry P.
Old Craxton, SD


You're only supposed to have one hairy nickel, so in a way, you are a mutant. That term has some negative connotations, but if we're being honest...that's what you are. It's entirely possible that one of your parents also had a "triple crown" and passed it on to you. This is how evolution works.

I might suggest you refrain from showing them off so much. That will likely cut down on the criticism. On the other hand, you could always just embrace it and take your show on the road. I personally don't care what you do.


Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Eye of the Beholder...

Dr. Gork,

May I call you Bruce? I wasn’t sure if you possessed any ophthalmology knowledge but I was hoping you’d be able to shed some light on my current medical predicament. I am an avid contact wearer but for the last few days, I’ve had to wear my glasses due to waking up with goop incrusted eyes. It makes it difficult for me to open them in the mornings when they are sealed shut. What can I do to get rid of my eye boogers?

Methamvania, MO


Unfortunately, I'm not an ophthalmologist, but my dentist is. I asked him about your goopy eyes, and he told me to slag off. He's a cocksucker.

Your goopy eye discharge is caused by one of 3 things. Most likely, you have herpes of the eye, better known as "Canker Eyes". This can only be contracted by direct and prolonged, uninterrupted contact of your eyeballs with genital herpes. About 1 in 6 people will contract canker eyes in their lifetime, so don't fret. I only know of one treatment. You'll need to put a thick layer of brand name ketchup on your eyelids before you go to bed. After applying the ketchup, place a blindfold dampened with extra virgin olive oil around your head so that it covers your eyes. When you wake up, remove the blindfold, but DO NOT WASH YOUR EYES. You'll need to repeat this for at least 2 weeks. Even if you think you're cured before that, don't stop. Canker goop can live dormant behind your eyes for a long time. There's a slight chance that the discharge is a side effect of some medication you're taking or, even less likely, you have pink eye. It's impossible to tell, so you better just try the ketchup therapy.


PS, don't ever call me Bruce...ever.

Mountain Mama

helo miztr goork. i luv reeding you're collum? yuo ar deafnitly the smrtest preson i no. cud yuo help me wiht a problum! i seam too hav losed mi pokit buk. ime prity shur itz inn mi pokit. yep. hear it iz. thnak yuo doktur goork. yuo sow smrt?

-thema hiller billy
Talkfunny, WV


You must be one of those e-hicks I keep hearing about. Apparently, there are clusters of you popping up all over the old south. You've got all the charm of old school white trash, but you're a little bit tech savvy on the side...I like it.

This reminds me of a few years ago when I spoke at a goat polishing seminar in Arkansas. The organizers paid me in moonshine and goat sauce.

I don't know why I do this, I really don't.


When in Rome...

dear dr. gork,
the other day on the cart to work, i met an attractive woman and squeezed a date out of her. we went to dinner and a campfire and then back to her place for a little extra 'cat on dog' action. everything was going well until i left the barn stall to relieve myself and upon coming back, happened to get a glimpse of her laying chest down on the haypile facing the foot of the haypile. in this foreshortened pose, she looked almost exactly like emperor constantine's mom. i had to excuse myself for obvious reasons, and she has since sent for me a couple times, but i don't know what to say. i mean, come on, i can't even find rome on a map, much less date one of its rulers' mothers. is she constantine's mother? what should i tell her? what are you hearing?

germanic wanderer #305

G-dub 305,

This is a tough one. Without a picture, I can't say for sure who this lady is, but let's try some deductive reasoning. We know from our history parties that Constantine ruled Rome in the early 300's AD. Our math readings tell us this was about 1,700 years ago. The longest living person on record died at 122 yrs old. Now, put all that together and I think we can say with 75% certainty that you made love to a farm animal. If you don't buy that, consider this; you say this woman was attractive. Roman peasants often referred to Connie's mom as "Regina de Animus Aegus Culus" or roughly translated, "queen with a face like a pig anus." I just blew your mind right? Sorry bud.


Saturday, January 10, 2009

Dr. Dork

My Dearest Gork,

I have no idea as to what your expertise may be, but I was hoping you could help me out with a question--and maybe help some readers as well. As I am aging (and I would rather not disclose my age), I am finding that I still think that I'm pretty fun and cool. I do not feel my age at all--even burdoned with the responsibilities of grown-up life. How is it that I can still feel like I'm cool, when I remember being a teenager and looking at people who were the age I am now and thinking they didn't have a clue about life?? And why is it that when I was a teenager, I thought I was sooo cool and now I look at teenagers and think THEY just don't have a clue?

Sincerely, Me, a dork? Impossible!

Dear Impossible Dork,

Thanks for the dorky question. You've heard the old adage that goes something like, "you're only as old as you feel", right? Well, unfortunately for you, the wisdom of that idiom only applies to age. You cannot say, "you're only as dorky as you feel" and get away with it. Just because you "feel" like you still got it doesn't mean you do. On the other hand, if you feel like you've lost it, then you probably have. That said, "cool" is still a pretty subjective term, so I've developed a more scientific approach. Let's measure coolness or "suaveness" in jean jacket units. Now let's say that suaveness (S) is dependant on your base personality (BP). This way, we can chart S vs. Age for each of the 19 different base-personalities. Then we just find your chart and check your jean jacket units. Here's the chart for the STL (Small Town Lady) BP...incidently, I've gleened from your question that this is your BP. Notice that S is constant until age 13 (13 yr olds have no jju's), then it rises sharply until the age of 21, and finally it plummets to negative infinity. This should help you to tell exactly how dorky you are if you ever start feeling cool again. Hope that helps.


Friday, January 2, 2009

Letting It All Hang Out


I don't have much of a question. I just want some tips.

Here goes nothing:

In modern times, it is consistently being stressed that, in order to attract the opposite sex, you need to advance, retreat, advance, retreat (if you need references, I could probably make some up, and get them to your secretary). Being that I'm in the corporate world, I'm finding it harder and harder to decipher what the females in my company are signaling with their tight-fitted, yet conservative attire. What is one way that I could help myself (and maybe others) in the uphill battle of office romance?

Appropriately Anonymous,

If you want to help yourself, go out there and do it. If you want to help other guys your age, or guys that aren't your age too, then here's what you do. First, make a rough draft (first-initial-cut) of a one-breast bra. Give it to someone of the opposite sex that is willing to be the guinea pig. GET SPECIFIC AND IMMEDIATE FEEDBACK. Create a second draft. Rinse, repeat.

The End.