Darrian rake, well, since shithead hipster obviously loves waffles so much, you should have made a waffle for him, out of his face. I’m not talking about holding his head in the waffle maker, that’s non-sense. I mean, you should have waited outside, and used your ass stompin’ boots (you do own a pair of ass stompin’ boots right?) to leave a waffle like pattern on his forehead. Second off, while you’re curb stompin’ Mr. “Bullet for my emo kid” his girlfriend in the Ramones shirt, (she obviously has the better taste in music,) would appreciate your awesome display of manliness, and the welcome change of seeing a man who doesn’t have a bigger pussy than she does, so you and her could run off and do the “Blitzkrieg Bop” back in the room, while his sissy ass is “Suffocating Under Words of Sorrow.”

If you have an inquiry for Old Man McDrake, feel free ask in the comments, or to drop us a line.

Hey Alone in Alabama, I never said you were a crybaby emo kid. I realize that emotional pain is very real, and is in fact, every-bit as real as physical pain, which is in fact, not real at all, considering that pain only exists in the mind. Anyway, don’t think that emotional pain isn’t serious, it can be a full blown emergency, in which case you can call whine-one-one and ask for a wahmbulance.

Na, I’m just fucking with you, I’m not Chopper Read here to tell you to “Harden To Fuck Up.” I’m also not going to post that photo of the crying kitten that says “QQ emo boy.” Look, I am a scientist at heart, and I think your problem can be solved using some basic chemistry.

Twice daily, once in the morning upon waking, and again about lunch time, (or later if you sleep late,) take out a sheet of paper, and write, on a scale of zero to ten, how much pain you are in, zero being no pain at all, and ten being the worst pain you’ve ever felt in your life. Now take the number you have, and that’s your number for the morning or your number for the afternoon. Do not attempt to leave the house in the morning, until you have had your number, in alcoholic drinks, then again at lunch, do not return to work until you have reached your number.

What kind of drink you ask? Well, don’t be a sissy, you said you weren’t some emo kid, so don’t try that “I only drink Absinthe” or “I prefer Pabst Blue Ribbon” shit on me. I’d suggest you get a bottle of rot-gut whiskey, something along the lines of Evan-Williams, Ten High, or Lord Calvert, and get the big bottle, you save money when you buy in bulk.

Technically, it says 'Go Cry Emo Kid' not 'QQ Emo Boy'.

You’ll feel better in no time. Now if your friends still say you need professional help, tell them you contacted a professional and he gave your a prescription, because I’m a professional (drinker,) and I’m pre-scripting you to go for it.

If you have an inquiry for Old Man McDrake, feel free ask in the comments, or to drop us a line.