These people just keep rambling on, like there's some point to the conversation, and they never shut up! I keep telling them to but nooooo...

Dear Give a Gripe,

I have a problem, and I wanna know what you think. Course it doesn't really matter what you think because I'm really kinda slow and everything people say goes in one ear and out the other, y'know one time at school the teacher called me a numbskull, and I really have to argue that point cos the doctor says that there are many nerve endings in the brain and I know this because my momma dropped me on my head when this guy in a store smacked her, turns out he was my REAL father, cos she cheated on my fake dad and thats when I was born, I've been in therapy since I was 7 for the trauma of not having a real dad to play ball with, cos I once played ball with my fake dad and it turns out he's really clumsy and threw the ball right at my head, there was so much blood I had to get stitches, but I did get a lollipop from the doctor, and I ate it and ate it and cos I was in too much pain to get up I didn't get out of bed to brush my teeth and I got a cavity, and the dentist had to pull my teeth, but he pulled the wrong one and now I have two fake teeth, sorta like I also have six fingers on my left hand, cos of that I'm always afraid Inigo will hunt me down and kill me cos of my fingers, and I'm not prepared to die, I almost died once, I followed the shiny light, and I followed it and followed it, I thought it was the neon lights that they put on the golden arches of McDonalds, but it wasn't, it was heaven, and not nearly as good cos they didn't put pickles on their burgers, cos I really really really like pickles, Moo was right that zucchini sucks cos if you've ever heard of zucchini pickles they suck, not liked I sucked on the lollipop that the doctor gave me, although that really sucked cos the dentist had to pull my teeth, but he pulled the wrong one and now I have two fake teeth, sorta like I also have six fingers on my left hand, cos of that I'm always afraid Inigo will hunt me down and kill me cos of my fingers, and I'm not prepared to die, I almost died once, I followed the shiny light, and I followed it and followed it, I thought it was the neon lights that they put on the golden arches of McDonalds, but it wasn't, it was heaven, and not nearly as good cos they didn't put pickles on their burgers, cos I really really really like pickles, Moo was right that zucchini sucks cos if you've ever heard of zucchini pickles they suck, not liked I sucked on the lollipop that the doctor gave me, although that really sucked cos the dentist...wait, I said that already, sometimes I feel like my brain is on french toast, or a goat, or a nun, did you know that nuns never get any...nevermind, thats not an area I should go into cos I'm likely to say something stupid, I do that a lot, or so people tell me, I try to make jokes but they end up like John Kerry's jokes, y'know he insults people and then rambles on and on, gosh, I DESPISE people who ranble on and on, especially politicians, like that Bob Dole, y'know Bob Dole says that he never had relations with that woman...no wait, that was Jesse Jackson, sorry, off topic, anyway where was I, oh yeah, Dole, so when I was a baby my momma never gave me fresh fruit, she always made me eat canned fruit, so the Bible says "U r wat U eat" and so my brain became canned fruit, and I moved to San Francisco to find a community of my peers, but I despise Rice-a-Roni so they kicked me out of there and I had to go to the Himalayas and I got married to a Yeti named Martha, we had a couple babies and I raised them till they were two, and then Martha told me that they weren't actually Yeti babies, but broken down old lawnmowers that she covered in polarbear fur, but she wanted to sell the furs to PETA [People for the Eating of Tasty Animals] and I called her stupid and she called me a poophead and I called her mean and she called me a big olf stainless steel butter knife, I actually used one of those once but it wouldn't cut my steak so I had to go back to the chainsaw to cut my food, which is wrong cos chainsaws are supposed to be used to cut up your ex-wife like OJ did, or at least he said he did but can you really believe him cos he wasnt even looking for her, except on the golf course, I went to a golf course once and my good buddy Hugh yelled FORE and I yelled FIVE and I didn't see his golf ball coming straight at me, he should have at least warned me it was coming, so I went home and put ice on it but when I put my tongue on the icepack it froze tight and I had to call an ambulance but I couldn't cos my mouth was stuck to the ice and it really hurt, so I ran outside and thats when I discovered I had no clothes on so the cops beat me down and put me in prison, they were nice enough to give me a meal though, but it was impossible to use that dinky plastic fork they gave me to cut through my mashed potatoes, so I threw it on the floor and they beat me up and I got in a coma so I had to go to the hospital and when the guard wasn't looking I tried to escape out the window and the janitor caught me when I fell on him but the thought I was suicidal so they took me to a shrink and the shrink wrapped my head in banana peels and string cheese...no wait, that was my psychic advisor, the shrink actually told me I ramble, WHAT, SAY IT AINT SO, WHY DOES HE THINK I RAMBLE, please please please I really need your help, why do they pick on people like me, HELPPPPPPPPP MEEEEEEEE!!!!!11one11oneelevent

yone1

Yours Affectionately,
Splunge Wizzlepants




Dear Mr. Wizzlepants,

First off, let me tell you that rambling is not, in any way, shape or form, a problem. Nor is it uncommon. I know plenty of people who ramble! Some, you give them even the slightest inkling you want to hear a story and they just ramble off the handle like nobody's business, it's almost as if they're not even listening to you, but they are, so you really have to be careful what you say around people like that because all of a sudden they'll be like, "What?" and then there's that big awkward silence until someone else starts rambling again. It's like they really don't even know how to shut up! It's incredible! I mean, I know plenty of people, who, no matter how many times you tell them to, never shut up. They just keep talking talking talking talk talk talk talk talk.... But not me, no, I know when to shut up. There was this one time, I was making waffles in my kitchen and I was talking about the weather to my Great-Aunt Susan, who really isn't all that great I guess but somehow she got the title and anyway I was talking to her about the weather and how the weather was really boring and I couldn't believe how some people got paid, to stand up, on Television, Channel 3 or something, and talk about how boring the weather is going to be that week. It's wasn't like they were ever right or anything, that's just how they were, and it was almost as if they wouldn't shut up! I wish I could get paid for that. Right now I'm working as a duck farmer in lower Michigan, which really, you know, isn't all that bad of a job. Free ducks for Christmas and everything. Anyway, where was I. Oh yeah, I was having this conversation and my Great-Aunt (who really wasn't soooooo great, but I'll get to that later) tells me that I ramble. I had no idea where it came from! Genetic, maybe? Must be. Great-Aunt Susan would always tell it like it is, that's how she got the title. You see, back in the olden days, right around the time the dinosaurs got out, my family had their annual barbecue, and they gave out awards, you know, things like "Most likely to drop out of college" and so and so. My Great-Aunt Susan got the award for the pig-wrasslin' competition, the prize of which, was the title "Great-Aunt." "But who'd want to wrassle (whatever that is) a pig?" I'd say, "That really doesn't sound all that great to me." And she'd box my ears and tell me to get back to my shrubbery studies. That really wasn't all that great, either, but shrubbers made a great living back then and I thought it was worth it. It wasn't, go figure, but least now I can tell you with great pride that I can make a topiary penguin in my sleep, and a leprechaun made out of dandelions with one eye open. I can't really remember why that's all great, either, come to think of it, but maybe I'll get around to it later. I was eating some horse radish earlier today, actually, and I was wondering why on earth they named it horse radish, does it contain horses? So much for being a vegetarian. Anyway, Christmas is coming up and I was really worrying about what to get my family for presents then I realized that they wouldn't really care, so I made them something, which I ate, then I told them about it and they just told me I rambled and that it wasn't genetic and I was just stupid so I can totally see where you're coming from with all this, but never despair because I found this really neat support group where they stuff cotton in their ears and just let you talk and talk and talk an talk and talk and talk all day without telling you to shut up or anything, well except maybe once or twice but that's only after their eyes turn red and they pull out their hair which might explain why so many psychologists are bald, but afterwards I was completely cured! Yup, one-hundred-percent totally, absolutely cured, completely. Yessirree, you won't see me rambling anymore, not a bit, you're lucky to have a conversation longer than a minute with me nowadays, I'm like Coolidge. He didn't ramble, did he? No, I doubt he did, Presidents really don't ramble except for that Dole guy, or Jay-Z, wasn't he President of something or other?

Anyway, in closing, rambling really isn't all that much of a problem. Next time you do it just talk into a rubber band or paper bag so you can listen to the echo of your own voice in case you have some good ideas tossed in there, eh? --Space Bean

Dear Splunge,

We at Give a Gripe are neither certified psychologists or life counselors. Therefore take our advice at your own risk. However, to tell you the truth you do ramble. A lot. Not that rambling is necessarily bad, but you don't seem to like it too much. So to help you with that, why don't you try counting to 10, or maybe 100 before you say something. It will help you think out what you are trying to say without having to ramble as much. And maybe you should visit a real counselor...instead of a shrink. And read the bible. And get some common sense. Other than that, I don't really know what other advice to give you. ~ Aranel