I will never make your brownies, Abby

It's a very busy week, with a huge deadline looming at work and tons of year-end stuff for the kids at school, and yet, still no cloning. I thought that at the very least I'd be able to sit down at the end of a long day and soak in some sound advice from Dear Abby, but what do I get? A brownie recipe:



Seriously, Abby? Seriously, Anita B. in New Jersey? That's like asking Dorie Greenspan what to do about your 28 year old son who still lives with you rent-free and sleeps until noon, refuses to look for a job and may be running a meth lab out of your basement. She might have awesome advice, but why would you even think to go there? What I really needed today was to see some sage wisdom of any persuasion; it did not even have to be remotely applicable to my life -- something along the lines of what you told the snubbed ornithologist would have been completely fine. But nooooooooo, instead you go shilling your cookbooklets. Argh, the badness of this week continues.