Another day, Another Night Spent Atop a Large Pile of Money

Our next question comes from Sillygal20: "My friend has this fear of storms and even if theres rain she gets all freaked out! Can you please give some good advice to my friend to help her?"

Well sillygal20, it appears your name is appropriate, for your query is quite silly indeed! The fearful vagaries of women are as random and inevitable as, well, the rains themselves! Ask a woman to embrace the storm? Why not ask the moon to stop lighting the night, the oceans to cease to ebb and flow, or Thompson's Magic Miracle Elixir to stop tasting so delicious while curing everything from dysentery to the common syphilis. It is simply part of her nature to fear the torrent of the rain, the boom of thunder, and the flash of lightning. However, if you persist in attempting to calm your friend, I can offer some wisdom.

While many know me as a man with the the courage of a lion and the public stoicism that has been the hallmark of the white man's divine rule over all of Creation, I must confess that I do have my fears; the potential for unrest caused by the socialist menace; the possibility of finding myself on one's deathbed without the benefit of a fine moustache comb; and the disjointed, schizophrenic hullaballoo that has been idiotically termed jazz "music." When I find myself within the midst of this panic, I follow these steps:

1. I surround myself with the finest scotches and opium that money can buy; no less than a three-day's supply will be sufficient.

2. I shut myself off from all light and music.

3. I ponder this thought: that we are but small pawns living a meaningless life, doomed to die alone. All of our pursuits of the good and virtuous are for naught, as one's spiritual existence ends only in the anticlimatic wimper of death. Upon considering this thought, I find myself contented; having chosen to forsake love and religious fervor for the greater goods of money and status, I have proven myself to be victorious in the pursuit of the ultimate in humanity.

By this point, I am contented, quite soused, and cradled by the warming embrace of sweet lady morphine. Huzzah! Now that I think about it, I can feel just such a comforting session coming on. I hope that my drug-laced words have helped you, though I know as well as you that your friend is doomed to spend eternity constantly fearing an impending torrent. Good day!