Cruising in neutral

A very exciting email from someone who just couldn't remain nameless!

Dear Captain Buttons;

Over the last few weeks I've been watching people hook up, flirt, get into relationships, etc, and I myself have had no opportunities for such debauchery. That isn't my problem. My problem is that I don't care about it. This worries me-- I know to get into a relationship I have to take initiative, but I really don't care that much. It's worrying-- I'm not sure if love is worth all the effort, and I'm sure that feeling like that isn't normal. Captain Buttons, can you assuage my angst?
--
Confused Asexual Not Trained

My Dearest CANT

Lethargic? apathetic? languid? not sure love is worth the effort?  this doesn't mean you have a problem - this means you are Morrissey!  Welcome to Everything's Alright my fourth gendered friend.

I am not sure why you are having a crisis of confidence now when you have ridden the asexual ship so splendidly for the last few decades, but to advice you on this matter, well the pleasure the privilege is mine (sorry M, couldn't resist).

OK, down to business.  Or not.  The choice is yours CANT (I'll keep calling you that for the sake of anonymity ok Morrissey?).  In my seafaring days I have to admit most of us sailors were obsessed with frigging in the rigging, but every now and then, we'd pick up a coxswain, who played a different tune on his hornpipe (and by different, I mean non-existent, this new hand would keep his flute firmly tucked in his trousers and nerre a once take it out and raise it to his lips)

At first this behaviour seemed odd to the crew of us, but one day I took this particular mariner astern and we sat down to talking.  My new shipmate (let's call him George shall we?) explained that he had never had the urges that those around him seemed to revel in.  This crewman confided in me that he would rather have a cup of tea than have sex...hmmm, well that's nice for you - i thought (wouldn't suit this particular button though, the buttons in my line carry the heavy burden of awe inspiring sexual prowess - fact, we buttons are the titan's of the lovemaking world, and it is a duty not to let down my button brothers and sisters in this arena).

Anyway, years passed, George transferred onto another frigate, and I heard no more of him til a couple of years ago -  "George" was making a front page splash, not for his lifetime of steady, commendable coxswaining, no, but because he'd been arrested for keeping a unwilling gimp in his basement.

So my dear CANT, here is the upside to your problem - you are obviously a massive sexual deviant, but you are keeping yourself in check by turning off your turning on switch.  You may not turn your on-switch on for many more years, but that's ok - because in that time CANT, i implore you, do your research, learn from the mistakes of others - soundproof your basement or better yet build your dungeon off the grid...nicely hidden in the some remote mountain range in the Azores.

George had a really rough time, going from sexual zero to eleven in one foul swoop - don't let the same happen to you...these sweet, numb years are a time for you to make blueprints to a wonderfully sordid future.  For now bide your time CANT, for later you can then bind your bottom in confidence!

Much love, I really am a huge fan,

CB

For all the lowly seamen out there

Ooh, here is a letter that awoke some long forgotten memories from the Button's memory banks...may have to take a stroll down to the dock tonight, just for old times sake...

Captain Buttons!
My job sucks the life out of me. Canvassing is the succubus on my belief in the good of humanity. I am too broke to quit. What should i do captain buttons~Miserably employed

Ooh arr me hearty

Your letter takes me back to my own canvasing days, though then i was amending a mainsail, and i sense you have more of a landlubber canvasing occupation.

Tis' true, the lowly position can sometimes be a tough one, i had my own trials serving my time as cabin boy, BUT Mis Emp, look where i am now...fattly retired and able employ my day dispensing advice to the needy, and rum to me and Mrs Buttons.  Let me tell you a story...

When i was but a mere snap of a button i found myself marooned in a remote, tropical island port with not a doubloon to my name.  My choices were to sell my sweet buttony self to the local tavern goers, to take to the jungle and live off the land, or to sign up to the one ship in port - which was offering me little more than a square of deck space on which to rest my weary plastic after long long days of serving my fellow shipmates.  I choose the latter option - and though the going was rough at first, eventually the ship took on smaller fry, allowing me to grow into the position of respect that you can see I hold today.

You, my dear Miserable One, are already asail on the ship of your life's adventure, Yes it is sometimes hard to be bottom of the pile (it really is), but you don't get your golden fleece without a passage through the Symplegades.

Only the brave survive this adventure, and you didn't want to live the useless life of a weak, sotten port-poke did you? NO!  So you jumped aboard the only ship in town.  Now, if you do not despairingly jump ship, you WILL ascend.  It is very hard to remain a peon, simply because as the years pass, the new desperate press ganged crew can only be below you - and you know what they make?  A glorious, malnourished, rickety limbed bridge to your sweet future.

sail on silver bird
sail on by
(as the old shanty goes)

Captain, a little misty thinking about me past, so had to have a tot 'o grog, Buttons

Fun and Games?

Ahoy there readers,

Today's column is pure pirate gold.  An old Buttons family secret, that have steered generations of us seafaring puppets out of the doldrums.  I hope you will all take it on-board so that it can do the same for you!

Captain Buttons
i just got home after being on the road for 2.5 months and feel overwhelmed by all the things that need doing. some things cost money, some things cost time, others resources, skills, and/or enthusiasm i lack. please help.  

Dearest Overwhelmed

What a fun opportunity you have in front of you!  You think you have too much on your plate, but what you actually have is the chance to play one of my favourite games.  The game is called WIN-GO.

The materials you'll need a large piece of paper and some fun coloured marker pens.  Make a grid of squares and on each write a task or duty that is currently grinding you down, then set to work!  Every time you complete a job - mark it off.  With every filled in straight line or diagonal you get a completely free, well deserved rush of satisfaction.  When you complete the entire grid it's WIN-GO!  The WIN is a feeling of exultation, better than the sex you are probably not having because of all the crappy charges that are put upon you, the GO is the release from this current mountain of mundane and....on to the next one!  

WIN-GO is the World of Warcraft of real life.  Just when you think you have attained the final level, unearthed the gold, rescued the troll prince (or whatever it is that those WOW folk get up to) you find there is another, even more challenging platform ahead of you.

Welcome to the world of real real world gaming OW.  Never ending and always challenging.  Isn't it Fun!

Love, love, love

Captain Buttons

Scratching the surface

Hi readers...i had this letter from a blotchy blogger...i think my advise is spot on!
 

Dear Captain Buttons:
Thanks for your offer of advice. 
I'm having the following problem: My entire torso is covered with a strange rash.  The rash is not painful, but what it is is scary.  I'm very afraid about what might be going on to cause such a rash.
So I'm writhing in fear.  Rashy fear. 

Can you help me put a positive spin on this?
-Really Anxious, Send Help

Well hola RASH

Someone is a very lucky...and it's YOU!  strange rashes are nothing but evidence of adventures had, whether traversing the tropics or exploring closer to home.  Sure, the choices you have made may have become a bumpy path...but seriously - why do you think a rash is called a rash?  Flaunt the testimony that you took a walk on the wild side. Wear your rash with pride and before you know it your friends and neighbours will be flogging themselves with nettles just to look a tenth as exciting as you!

Ahoy!

Captain Buttons

So here we are then...

Dear online viewer and potential client,

Welcome you to the world of Everything's Alright.   

I, Captain Buttons, am at the helm of this ship-of-an-advice column and I am here for you.  I'm here for you if there is something going on in your life that you just can't put a positive spin on.  Here for you if you really can't see the forest for the tree's,  I'm here for you if your gaze is momentarily mud-ward not star-ward and even here for you if that perpetual frown just won't turn upside down.  Whatever is going on, tell your good old friend Captain Buttons here all about it.  Before you know, you'll be seeing acres of forest and awe-inspiring milky ways and your friends, well your friends will be seeing upside down frowns written permanently all over your happy little face.

But only if you grant me the privilege of opening your mind to the positives that already exist within your situation.

So with that, Dear Reader, I invite you to email me at captnbuttons@gmail.com - email me your tale of woe, and see it anew as a tale of wonder, here on the EVERYTHING'S ALRIGHT blog.

OK, enough friends, Captain Buttons has to retire to peruse the captain's inbox, but always remember - rose tint spectacles are firmly planted on my nose and are ready to re-view the things in your world that currently give you nothing but eyestrain.

The virtual door is open, the chair is easy, so come on in to the world of Captain Buttons and Everything's Alright.

It will be you know....

love

The Captain

PS.  Emails may well be edited then posted on the blog, but client confidentiality is utmost and a suitable and endearing pseudonym will be assigned the petitioner.

An Itty-bitty intervention

Dear Cap'n Buttons,

Hullo! Thank you kindly for your offer of services. And now I shall burden you with my dilemma.

The other night I took a bunch of stuff that rhymes with "hugs," and then kissed someone mistakenly on purpose for about two seconds. The dilemma part comes in since I am very much in a committed relationship and love my partner very much. Under non-altered circumstances said teeny-tiny kiss would have never transpired. 

Any advice you might be able to impart regarding this transgression would be greatly appreciated.

Thanks again,

Shouldn't Have, And Mighty Embarrassed 

Oh My Dearest SHAME,

You have crossed a line.  Sometimes there are moments in our lives when you need to sit down and say "I need help" - this is one of those moments, so thank goodness you turned to me.

SHAME, SHAME, SHAME.  I need you to take an oath, right now, and swear that you will never again use the phrase "rhymes with hugs".  If you are happy drug taker, then just say the word - DRUGS.  Jeez!  

The whole being stoned and kissing a person other than your partner thing? A major blessing, for if that hadn't happened, you wouldn't have written to me, and I wouldn't have been able to tell you that thing that your friends can't...quit the cutesy language, please.

or maybe just curb it a teeny-tiny bit.

sparkles

THE CAP.

PS.  As to the drug addled make-out sess - don't sweat it, Mrs Buttons knows that once I've got some rum in my system I can't help but chase the cabin boys around the yard-arm.  

mixed advice for mr mcfee

Ahoy friends!  

I've had the wind up me mainsail for quite a while now, so good news! i'll be portside once again very soon.  In the meantime, one more problem shredded (err, i mean gently tended to dear, honestly), by the old ball and rigging.

love you all

give me C, give me an A give me a P...............

(ps, i've got to disagree with the Mrs on the below advice - Alfred, you seem as fruity a sailor as they come - my advice is hop on a package and make for somewhere carnival! - sorry dear, yes i know i said i wouldn't interfere...sorry sorry)

Dear Captnbuttons,

I've never written for advice before, but I'm excited to give it a go! My name is Albert James McFee. I consider myself a rather social creature, but I seem to be facing a social wall at the moment. (Not a real wall, an imaginary, metaphorical wall). Anyway, I spend much of my time at numerous social events, such as concerts, sports games, and karaoke bars. Every Saturday, I check the "Missed Connections" section of my local publication and notice that there are ladies looking FOR ME! Well, I write or Facebook them with a picture to let them know that I'm found, but they rarely respond. I would call, but they often don't post their phone numbers publicly. I'm wondering if you have any advice for finding these ladies and informing them that the man of their dreams is waiting for them. Also, do you think that the fact that I only have 61 Facebook friends reflects poorly on my social decorum?

I will certainly appreciate any advice that you can offer me.

Sincerely,

Albert McFee

 

Albert, Albert, Albert, where to start.

While reviewing your question numerous thoughts came to mind.

1.     Maybe the ladies and gentlemen you go out with to all these social events are playing a giant hoax on you, posting fake I Saw You ads and there’s no way for them to reply without revealing the sham (mean just mean). Who knows you could be such a huge dick and your friends are really that mean spirited and motivated to pull off such shenanigans, what comes around often times goes around, is your conscience clean?

2.     Coincidently you go to the same social events, concerts, sporting games and karaoke bars as your doppelganger, at the same time.  (however odd, slightly intriguing) Is your other you getting all the dates?

Chances are Albert that you just like these phantom posters on “Missed Connections” are humanly shy, vulnerable individuals.  Why would “Missed Connections” even exist if people really expressed how they felt when they felt it?  Whether you’re too involved belting out Bohemian Rhapsody on the karaoke stage or slaying some killer air drums at the Rush concert, take a moment to look around, you may be getting missed and it appears getting missed for good.  Why wait to be missed when you could be introducing the woman of your dreams to the “man of their dreams”.  Online flirting is fun but spending EVERY Saturday checking the “Missed Connections” is depressing and boring.  Hey, you’re sexy I’m sexy lets do something sexy together, get it.  No need to wait till Saturday.

Finally Albert I’m not sure how having ONLY 61 friends on Facebook is going to affect YOUR social decorum.  I’m sure there are plenty of people with tons more friends than you and plenty of people that have just as many or less friends on Facebook than you.  What the hell does that really mean, how’s it gonna affect my social decorum?  Its how you treat and respect these people that really matters.  I would think a good rule of thumb would be something like, can you fit all your Facebook friends into your house or apartment or car or parents basement or wherever the hell it is you live?  If not maybe you have too many friends, or maybe as long as you know all their birthdays and phone numbers by heart you can have as many friends as you want, as long as you don’t forget to phone them on their birthday.

   

Mrs Buttons