by Philomene AsterisI am not a fellow who much enjoys the company of others, never mind actual touching or... mating rituals. However, this chicky has taken to following me around and no matter what I do, I cannot shake her. Unfortunately, I've begun to even enjoy the company. I do not however, like my very way of life being shaken to the core. What can I do to remain true to myself without, I do not know... ruining this?
Dear Standoffish,
I am uncertain whether you are writing me about a baby bird or a woman. In the event that it is a woman I would recommend you set some boundaries immediately, providing you do truly wish to continue this friendship. By 'boundaries' I mean when and where it is appropriate for her to be near you and to what extent you will be friends, since from your opening sentence I surmise you would not wish to respond to any romantic overtures.
On the off-chance that your 'chicky' is juvenile fowl, I have heard they have a tendency to follow around the first thing that catches their gaze, almost to the exclusion of anything else. You may have to resort to negative reinforcement. Throwing a few pebbles or withholding food would help. Don't let it in the house, as it is certain to leave a mess. Actually, I suppose this advice is also applicable in the event that your chicky is a woman. So we've come full-circle! I wish you luck and hope to hear back regarding your progress.
I'm writing to ask a question. Well, a few questions, I suppose, but I don't know which is the chiefest of them so I'd better just write them all out, since they're weighing on me. You see, there's this man I'm a bit sweet on. I thought we were going along rather well as friends -- I met him shortly after I threw over another suitor, but that's neither here nor there -- but then he disappeared for over half a year! And while he was away he caught the Curse. He's one of those worgen now! It puts me right off, it does, and he also has this fondness for animals to boot. Big pink bird and a crab and a dog who can't make up his mind what color he wants to be. And there's a fox, too, bit goosey, that thing. I suppose that one isn't so bad. But that is not the point! The point is, I suppose, I'm rather fond of the man, but I'm not fond with all the claws and fur that seems to go along with it. And furthermore I don't think he's even aware that I -- that I do like him very much! What do I do?
Dear Suspiciously Familiar Querent Who Is Unfond of Fur,
Sounds like you have a bit of a dilemma on your hands. You think you have found a decent man and then he up and dies and is raised as the undead, or you find out he's got a demon-summoning habit, or he goes and gets himself cursed. I'm supposing that is the gist from all that rambling, at any rate.
Unfond, you say this man is unaware of your attraction to him (if not his particular extras). Perhaps you should make him aware of it. If he rejects you then you won't even have to worry about his animal friends or his own set of claws. If he accepts your attentions then it is at that point you will have to consider your feelings in the matter, but I suspect at the root you'll find that if you're so very upset about it in the first place, that counts for something. Perhaps a compromise is in order with regards to his animals, but know that there will be no compromise when it comes to the man himself. To borrow a fishing analogy from a friend, you can't catch half a fish. You must snag the whole thing or go hungry.
Why are you so snarky? People would like reading this column a lot more if you'd just be nice and tell them what they wanted to hear without being all rude about it. As it stands now, the only thing I use it for is to line bird cages in my shop.
Dear Such a Liar,
If you are aware of the content of this column well enough to take me to task on its tone, then it is likely you're doing a great deal more than using it to line cages. Just wanted to point that out. But I shall address this anyway.
Kindly understand that for every letter I select to answer, there are three that are wholly unsuitable for the kind of newspaper that is the Azerothian Enquirer. This means that by the time I'm writing my responses I am generally feeling a bit cross, and at any rate I do not believe anyone is served by having their faults ignored or glossed-over with pretty prose. People write to Ask Asteris because they want an answer, not because they want to have their hands held or bottoms patted. Although, perhaps if you had your bottom patted more often you wouldn't
I still can't figure out what a woodchuck is or why it has to chuck wood. Help?
Dear Chuckless,
I asked around and nobody seemed to know. I even dipped into a few libraries to find information on the elusive 'woodchuck'. And then in the Ironforge Archives I stumbled upon the following:
"Tha Chuck-shot" made its first appearance when a group of people found a furbolg camp, and consisted of two charges of heavy blasting powder (pushed in with a ramrod), one juvenile woodchuck (angry) (also pushed in with a ramrod), and plenty of dwarven genius. Flintlocke claims his Great-Great-Uncle Triggerfinger Ironstone created tha chuck-shot. His nickname, Triggerfinger, came from the fact that he only had the one finger left... after masterin' tha chuck-shot! (from Flintlocke's Guide to Azeroth)
Having read that I still don't know what it is. But I hope it helps.
I'm seeing a druid but our home has been infested with fleas. I love him, but I love my rugs more. What shall I do?
Dear Fleabitten,
If your companion runs a distant second to your floor coverings then it is probably a good idea to go ahead and break that off. If you want to be stubborn about it, though, I recommend regular baths. Possibly some of that special shampoo from the pet shop in Dalaran. I'd write more, but I'm still in shock from having to write that much on the topic.
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Dear Soberbeard,
Please feel free to exercise some self-restraint and imbibe in moderation. If this is impossible perhaps you should swear off the hooch completely. If this shames you and will harm your status with the other dwarves, then here is a trick I picked up when I used to take shifts at the Wayward Son:
Sit at a table which already has an empty bottle present. (Only dark glass works for this, by the by.) Order only hard liquor, and when you take your shot, 'chase it' from the empty bottle. But instead of swallowing, spit it into the bottle. You have now sneakily salvaged your pride and can remain sober.
