Advice for Life

Justplainwill will now take your questions. Need answers about life? Love? Happiness? Homework? Or even where to catch the No. 37 MARTA bus? Write Justplainwill.

Dear Justplainwill:

I am a pro quarterback, who has had an awful season. I’ve had 17 passes intercepted during games. I have also thrown some wild “off the field” passes too. These were also intercepted by the wrong people. Yep, I’ve been bad. I have also been caught… and I am probably going to have to apologize to a whole bunch of people. I don’t have much experience with saying ‘I’m sorry,” Justplainwill.

How do I go about doing this?

Minneapolis, MN

Dear Brett:

I don’t know what’s gotten into people lately. You can hardly watch TV these days without encountering some slob, who has tears running down his cheeks, a bad case of bed hair, bloodshot eyes, snot running out of his nose and who is also on the verge of emotional collapse. Listening closely – i.e. through all of the tears, snot, and slobbering – you commonly hear words such as: I’m sorry… full responsibility… I’ve let down my family… owed money… she was a Jezebel… sin… liquor… Satan… addict.”

The mug on TV is stammering through a mea culpa – i.e. an apology, as it were. Or at least trying to.

Usually, the apologist has been caught in some recent mischief involving money, hot women, liquor, transmitting pictures of his or her ‘privates’ (thus making them ‘publics’) and, increasingly, writing almost anything on Facebook.

The transgressions that precipitate the need for ‘all this apologizing’ have not been limited to any particular gender, race, creed, color, national origin, or political party either. “Screwing up” has become an egalitarian enterprise. (My ‘favorites’ are those that involve evangelists).

From the looks of things, we are rapidly on our way to becoming a nation of screw-ups.

Anyway, Brett, at your request, I have developed a Statement of Apology for you. Feel free to use it in the future. I suspect that you’re going to need it again. Also, feel free to pass it along to anyone else who feels the need to apologize. It can be termed the (new) General Form of Apology. (It can be downloaded from the Internet and will also soon be available at better office supply stores everywhere.)


To whom it may concern:

I am hereby sorry for all the stuff that I was recently caught doing. These were misguided acts. I really am sorry. I’m even sorrier that I got caught… ‘got busted’ as it were. Not only is getting busted inconvenient, I thought the law enforcement and authority types had better stuff to do with their time. But I was misguided on this too. You can bet that in the future I will be limiting my text messages to “Have a Nice Day,” “Jesus Saves,” or “See Rock City.”

Be that as it may, I specifically apologize for any distress that my actions may have caused you…especially if you are a close family member, a friend or anybody who even knows me – and my actions affected you directly. (Of course I’ll also ask you to remember that $200 that you’ve owed me since the Carter Administration and which I’ve never said anything about. But I digress…)

Most of the time, people blame liquor, drugs, the devil or hot women for their stupid decisions. I will blame my recent actions on none of these as I feel like Satan, liquor, drugs and hot women have enough to answer for already. To be totally honest, I was just being a jackass.

The whole time that I was growing up, Momma and Daddy said that sometimes I didn’t have “…the sense that God gave a billygoat*.” Every once in awhile, I do something that proves that Momma and Daddy were right. This was one of those times.

I apologize.

If this reference to ‘billygoats’ offends those people over at PETA, I apologize for that  too. If you are a member of the general public and I haven’t affected you directly, I still apologize. I know how touchy some of you people can be.

Brett, I hope this helps.

Your friend,

Dear Justplainwill:
Someone was sitting around a design office one day and said, “Say! What about this for an idea!” And before you knew it, Outdoor Theatre Systems hit the market. Never mind that most of us don’t live on grand estates, but crammed together, all a’row. Mix one of those systems with (a) parents who believe their spoiled and aspiring disc jockey teen should drink with his buds at home and (b) stupid money and otherwise gentle neighbors turn into raving, sleep-deprived maniacs.

Gosh! The bass! FEEL how it travels across the land. Notice how it drowns out all other sound? The birds, the endless stream of traffic, the jets making their approach to MIA, all disappear under a barrage of exquisitely repulsive lyrics. Oh, look at how impressively that system rattles the windows. For real. But wait! It’s only 2a and already they’ve launched into Drunken Karaoke Hour. Isn’t that a thing? They usually wait until 3a.m.!

Yeah, baby, that’s when my desire to kill that outdoor theatre inventor really peaks.

The police and code enforcement are taking care of the neighbor’s desire to operate a South Beach nightclub in the suburbs. But someone needs to go apesh!t on the fool who came up with this category of electronics. Can it be me, Just Plain Will? Can it? Please?

With weary regards,
Margaret G
Miami, FL

Dear Margaret:
Some inventions – and their inventors – deserve a fate worse than death. Rap music, the automated phone answering system as well as Donnie and Marie* are three that immediately come to mind. All are very high on the list of the most loathsome developments of the past half century. It seems reasonable that The Outdoor Theater System be added to the list specially since the damn thing looks so much like a cheap cell phone on steroids. (While I can’t prove it, the cell phone surely must be the result of a communist plot or Satanic ritual.)

The issue then, Margaret becomes exactly what should the fate of the inventors be? As much as that the inventor of the OTS might deserve death by strangulation, I would not recommend murder. For one thing, the once wildly successful  ‘He Need Killin’ Legal Defense’ doesn’t work  outside of Texas anymore. (Well, not much anyway.) Secondly, as said above, certain inventors deserve a fate much worse than death…you know, something that the culprit will remember – forever. I would suggest that you consider subjecting the inventor of the OTS to any or all of the following:

  • A week’s confinement with any of Justplainwill’s ex-in-laws.
  • Marriage, forced cohabitation, or any contact whatsoever with any of the Real Atlanta Housewives
  • Trying to get any issue (once termed ‘customer service’) understood, resolved by one of those fake customer service departments that is manned in Bangalore, New Deli, or any other place outside the U.S.

I suggest that you require any and or all of the above to be done at 3 a.m.

I hope that this helps.

Your friend,

*P.S. I admit that things could be even worse. Donnie and Marie could start rapping or even worse, they could mate with the Kardashians.

Dear Justplainwill:

I am planning on vacationing in France soon but have lost my English to French Dictionary. What is the French word for “chicken?”

Paris, Tenn.

Dear Pierre:

La Chicken!

For future reference, one of the long accepted, societal Rules of Thumb is that by placing the syllable “la” in front of any word, the object described by the word now becomes (1) “French,” (2) imported, (3) more fascinating than it ever used to be – and (4) therefore more expensive than it otherwise has any right to be.

This scientifically proven phenomenon, sometimes known as ‘the French Gambit,’ is the basis of one of the top marketing scams of post World War II America. This includes many renovated hotels, numerous restaurants, as well as my third cousin, LaShonda.

The French Gambit is unusually popular in recessionary times. I even have it on good authority that the folks over at the bus company are seriously considering the justification of yet another price hike by making the bus drivers wear berets and re-naming the whole place “La MARTA.” (Bus riders can take heart though. The lowest fare will be $1.00 and will give patrons the privilege of running alongside the bus.)

Your friend,
La Will
La La Land

Write [email protected].

Just Plain Will

Just Plain Will

J. P. Will is a noted counselor, spiritual adviser and advice giver to the stars as well as the star-crossed. A former goat-herder and Arctic explorer, Will is the proud holder of a GED as well as a Certificate of Attendance of the Naples, Florida School of Online Tooth Extraction and Snow Removal. He also studied psychotherapy in Vienna, which he proudly points out is located about 75 miles due north of Hahira, Georgia.

All of these accomplishments make him as qualified to give advice as... er, well... anybody else.

In the spirit of full disclosure, there are many who think that Justplainwill is an alter ego of frequent Dew contributor, Will Cantrell ( furthering the notion that Cantrell needs a new, different, and better personality.) On the other hand, Cantrell, in a recent meeting with our editors, vehemently denied and disavowed any knowledge of Justplainwill's existence. (“Just plain who? Never heard of the jerk... that is unless he says that he owes me money”, said Cantrell.) Despite Cantrell's protestations and what we are sure was feigned indignation, we at Offices of The Dew have our suspicions --- especially since no one has ever seen both Justplainwill and Cantrell at the same place at the same time.