Let’s face it, kiddos. Cynics rule the planet. They’re squeezing our tender necks with an iron fist, eking out the last juicy droplets of joie de vivre and leaving us limp, motionless, stuck in an infinite cycle left to tumble dry. We’ve become loveless! Passionless! I went to the amusement park the other day and nary was a hickey to be seen on the necks of the young lovers in line for the roller coaster. Trust me, I checked. Sickly is a society when signs of recklessness have all but disappeared from the everyday.

Well, I would love to prescribe our ennui to the ubiquitous cell phone usage. I really would. But, as my independent research and multitudinous social experiments have revealed to me: the problem lies not in the screen addiction but in the general distrust of experts. When you place your faith in a higher power, one who sees all and knows all, there is little to be lost and a wonderful world to be gained. 

I used to be like you. I felt like a ghost animating my own idiotic shapeless body, made stagnant by melancholy and a general hapless attitude. I had forgotten how to fantasize; how to see the color in the sky. I had even forgotten how to do a cartwheel, or how to tell my local barista that I wanted a refund for the shitty cup of coffee they handed to me. This is, until I placed my trust in a Doctor of sorts, one who granted me a unique opportunity to join the community of people who understood how to optimize their lives. From my work with the Doctor and his Associates, I regained access to my Id. I unlocked my full potential. I invited three of my friends to join me, and I ascended to a plane I never knew could exist until Doctor showed it to me. And my life is made all the more vibrant.

So, wake up, citizens of all nations! I, Joy Watkins, resident expert in all things bliss, pleasure, hedonism, and mirth, am laying bare my bountiful soul and endless well of knowledge to anyone looking to level with their own listlessness. I will be sitting at my desk for the next several days eagerly awaiting the opportunity to change your life. Are you ready for pure, unfiltered Joy? Joy is ready for you.

Sincerely,

Joy

Dear Joy,

I write to you today with an issue that I no longer feel equipped to handle!! I have been with my boyfriend for five years now. Before I even begin to unload the issues I’ve been having, I want you to know that my naked, delicate little finger remains unadorned by a rock. Keep in mind that smooth patch of skin on my left hand while you read this letter, and remember that the end goal here is to make my finger SHINE LIKE THE TOP OF THE CHRYSLER BUILDING by the end of this year…

So, I know honeymoon periods come and go. My boyfriend tells me that all the time. My main issue isn’t the way he covers his eyes with his flat palm when I undress, or the way he insists on staying home when our friends invite us to dinner. Actually, I think I’m totally fine with the fact that he’s putting money from our joint account into crypto because I like to think of myself as a futurist. Sure, it sometimes bothers me that he falls asleep wearing the VR goggles, and that he refuses to touch receipt paper because the chemicals might “feminize” him. I strongly suspect that he is using ChatGBT to answer my messages because sometimes his texts start with “Sure! Here is how you should respond…” but I figure all of these quirks are the price to pay for pure, unadulterated love.

The real issue is this: he wants me to quit smoking cigarettes. I’ve been smoking since I was 15! He says that if I don’t quit now, there is an “epigenetic tendency towards addiction” that I could “pass down to our children.” He says I smell like shit all the time because of the cigarettes, (which is why he doesn’t like sleeping in the same bed.) He says the cigarettes are aging me. I say: if he can have his abundance of dopamine, let me have mine!  Do I give up pleasure for love? Do I give up love for pleasure? I have ZERO intention of trying to quit. I have ZERO intention of breaking up with the love of my life. It’s the twenty-first century—can’t a woman have it all? I want an American Spirit Black twisted between my diamond-laden fingers, STAT!

Sincerely,

Lovergirl

Dear Lovergirl,

I’ve heard this all before. I’m in complete agreement. In any good relationship—or one with longevity, in any case—sacrifices must be made to secure the future. That being said, female pleasure should always be the top priority. The sacrifice you must make is not of your own vice, but of your time. If you’re willing to dedicate a little bit more time and effort to this issue, all will be resolved, and the ring will be on your finger.

Let’s start at the root of the problem: he likely yearns for the time in which his behavior was governed by some sort of arbiter of right and wrong: a father, a schoolteacher, a bully.  You should ideally become all three, implementing a system of rewards and punishments for his wrongdoing. With this, you can rectify any of these antisocial techno-optimist behaviors. Human nature always triumphs over the temptations of technology.

This is what I did with my last boyfriend when he stopped paying attention to me. I began by installing small high-frequency devices in the corners of my home where he wouldn’t think to look. I set them to periodically turn on and off in the hours he was home and I was away. This yielded two satisfactory results: One, he wasn’t able to stand being at home without me. Two, he wanted to move to a larger, more comfortable space, installing within the inner recesses of his consciousness the idea that I was home; that I was the one he should be taking steps towards the future with. After he became terrified of my absence, I eradicated his relationship with all technology. My boyfriend was alson scared of receipt paper, so naturally he was terrified to learn of EMF. That was my way in. I played M.I.A. loudly and frequently—the microphones on his devices picked this up and started delivering him content about chemicals and blue light and other nonsense.

A malleable mind is easy to shape if you have the will, and the algorithm will always bend towards irrationality, my love. After doing what I did, your main issue should be quite fixable. Simply empty the contents of chewable nicotine pouches into his toothpaste. He’ll want to start smoking, too. 

A 12-carat princess cut is in your future, darling.

Much love,

Joy

Dear Joy,

I am the most pro-social guy you’ll probably ever meet. Daddy Andreessen believes in me. My seed funding was triple than that of my pathetic Haas peers. I have a great little bungalow in Burlingame. I don’t eat seed oils and my body age is nineteen and a half. Not only am I ALL ABOUT HUMAN CONNECTION, but I’m also ALL ABOUT LEVERAGING AVAILABLE TECHNOLOGIES TO OPTIMIZE TIME AND PURIFY HAPPINESS. 

So, yeah, it’s absolutely illogical to me that I’ve somehow become the locus of some hysteria regarding the “negative economic impact” of the app that I’m developing, The Plot. The Plot grants all participating members access to cameras situated in participating bars across the city, which allows them to survey the scene before they waste money on an Uber to the place.

In many ways, it’s been great. My friends, family, and Haas cohort love this app. Who wouldn’t want to be able to predict and control every single environment that they enter? I’ve gotten an overwhelmingly positive response from my friends—no self-respecting founder wants to walk into a bar full of sixes and sevens, or enter a space blasting ear-splitting music.

My problem is that many of the nightlife spaces are pulling their support because a specific demographic refuses to enter a space that’s monitored by an anonymous group of social watchers. I’ve been lampooned by the media for encouraging “antisocial behavior.” Some bars aren’t getting business all night because nobody wants to arrive to an empty bar first. My VCs are not happy. I need that series A, baby!

Joy, help me solve this and keep my heart rate down. My vascular age is now that of a 45-year-old and I don’t believe this has to do with my small ivermectin dosage.

Sincerely, 

Party Patrol

Dear Party Patrol,

I am sorry to hear that the world has been tough on you. You know who else the world is quite tough on? One of my personal heroes, LGBTQIA+ icon Peter Thiel. What a free thinker that gay boy is! And, I believe, he is someone with whom you might find some kinship, and some economic relief. 

Please, I’m encouraging you to get Palantir involved as soon as humanly possible. The kind of system you’re proposing—which would encourage compliance with a round-the-clock surveillance model under the guise of democratic “peer” judgement—it’s a perfect way to start selling mass data sets to various third party intelligence groups. You can be just like Partiful, but with wayyy more data points! I guarantee you any sort of media criticism will fall to the wayside when that cold hard Thiel Cash starts rolling in. 

Hope this helps. I must commend you for taking the initiative to start something you truly care about. When you have control over your life (and in your case, control over the lives and daily drama of others), there is much to be gained.

Love,

Joy

Dear Joy,

Here are the articles my mother has recently texted to me, alongside some form of the phrase “Food for thought…”

Five Ways To Maximize Your Pineal Gland With Home Water Restructuring Devices

EAT…PRAY…WHAT? How The Biblical Diet Brought This Single Twentysomething Pathetic Hopeless Woman Closer To God…and Her Husband!

Los Angeles Housing Prices On The Rise: Why Tulsa, OK Is The New Silverlake for Young Americans 

EPSTEIN AND ARMSTRONG: BOSOM BUDDIES IN THE WOMB OF AMERICAN FARCE

Four Little Rabbits Jump on the Backyard Trampoline With Alligator (must watch)

These Chilean Orphans Will Break Your Heart, Please Donate Now

HELL ON EARTH: AREA MAN LURES HINGE DATE INTO CAVE AND TRAPS HER FOR FIVE WEEKS NO FOOD

BREAKING: Antarctic Ice Walls Block Passage of Ship, Flat Earth PROVEN?

California Clocks Coldest Summer On Record; Earth Temperatures Plummeting into New Ice Age

Crowd of 500 Sees Prophet in Mongolia [VIDEO PROOF]

Ten CEOs, Five High Value Women vs ONE FEMINIST: LIB SMACKDOWN

Joy, since I purchased my mother an iPad, she has become unrecognizable. She’s totally illogical—she’s at once deeply religious and totally unprincipled. She believes that the Earth is flat. She believes that time is a circle. She doesn’t believe in seed oils, but she believes that AI could maybe one day become God, or maybe is God. If I told her there were monsters living in her wall, she’d scoff, but if she saw a TikTok about the creatures attracted to women’s sorrow that might live in the walls, she’d immediately forward it to me. She is so far out of touch with reality that I’m beginning to worry that she’s exhibiting signs of psychosis.

This, and she’s making me miserable. Should I just get rid of the iPad? 

Sincerely,

Distressed Daughter

Dear Distressed Daughter,

Frankly, I’m disappointed in you. Perhaps you’re not familiar with the way life works. All of life, all of the laughter and beauty and tragedies and longing you’ll have experienced or ever will experience, have happened because your mother held you, grew you, nurtured you, fed you. This so-called “free-thinking” schtick is entirely untrue and a byproduct of the new age pagan hyperindividualism of the twenty-first century. The “reality” you speak of is not an objective one. Your mother’s reality, darling, is your reality.

If your mother’s Earth is flat, so too is your Earth. If, in your mother’s world, a king from a small country needs five thousand dollars wired to his bank account immediately otherwise all of your mother’s confidential information will be leaked to the public, you must take it upon yourself to send that money. There is no “reason” in filial piety. There is just action. 

Your happiness is contingent on your mother’s happiness. It’s heartbreaking to hear that the generation who grew up with unmitigated access to information at their fingertips seems to lack the baseline respect for the people who have brought them into this blessed age.

My advice? Get as close to your mother as possible. Move back to Tulsa and into your childhood bedroom, adjacent to hers. Send her articles you think she would like. Do exactly as she instructs, and all of the dreams and hopes and wishes you thought you had while independent will likely dissipate. The closer you are to your origin point (mother’s womb), the more peace you will find.

You should never follow your friends if they jump off a bridge.

But, if your mother instructs you to do so, you must leap, headfirst, alongside her.

Hope this helps.

Best,

Joy

Dear Joy, 

My father used to always tell me: always do the right thing, and always be honest, if not for your own peace of mind, then for the very real possibility that somebody else is going to find you out. It was hard for me to take this advice because my father never got any respect from anybody his whole life. Turns out I should have listened, because now I must write to you, a stranger, for some words of wisdom. 

I’ve been living in South Lake Tahoe for about two years now, after fleeing from the Everglades by the skin of my teeth. Before, I was floor manager at Miccosukee Casino. Basically I got myself into a bit of trouble, pocketing a bit of cash from the wrong people and chasing one too many cocktail waitresses, even though I had a nice lady at home and a good little boy too. I got caught, more than once, in the crossfires between some scammers and some gangsters and some hookers and some gator traders jacked up on that Everglades speed, that I had to make a run for it, start a new life. 

Anyway, here I am in South Lake Tahoe with an honest life. I got one wooden leg due to the fact of losing my leg in those crossfires. I work at the liquor store, my girlfriend turns 18 in just a few weeks, I go fishing with my boss and his buddies…when alla sudden, this local trucker who comes in here to restock every few days gets to chattin like he always does. Told me it was a funny story, told me it was a small world, told me that he’d been making runs down to Miccosukee for his job and some alligator hunting when he got to talking about South Lake Tahoe and his favorite liquor store and how the guy workin that Liquor Store had a wooden leg and no past he would mention. Turns out he runs with those gator traders and now alla sudden, somebody found me out. 

I can’t lose my job, I can’t lose my girl, and I can’t lose my early morning fishing. What the hell do I do? Should I kill the trucker, squash the mouse before it squeaks? Should I come clean to those around me, claiming a new man? What the hell do I do? 

Whatsa man to do,

Everglades Eddy 

Dear Everglades Eddy, 

Once there was a man so terrible and mean that a loaded gun knew better than to let its bullets fire upon him, for fear of this man’s retaliation. He was a famous man, known by the public for his jokes and by the private circle he encompassed for his sadistic demeanor. Eventually, there was a big retaliation against the man and against other men like him, and after he was found out, he admitted to his wrongdoings. His admission was the most honest thing he ever did. After that, he assumed a kind of victim role, said his life and his career were in a perpetual state of disenfranchisement because of the culture of retaliation that found him out. 

All this to say, some time passed by and that man went back to being known for his jokes instead of for his crimes and he even just sold out a world tour of jokes, even performed right there at your Miccosukee Casino. He cashed in. Don’t hurt that truck driver, because eventually somebody else might find you out! Wait for him to talk. And if he does, admit to your unfaithfulness, your cheating, your lying, and your scheming. You say you’re a changed man, I have no way of knowing if that is the truth. But as long as you are good at making others believe that that is the case, some time will go by, and you will be revered for facing your fate, people will even call you strong, people will associate some type of character with the fact that YOU do not fear your fate, but in fact you face it head on. 

You can’t continue your life of running. Especially with a wooden leg! 

Yours truly, 

Joy

Dear Joy,

AM I LOOKING FOR LOVE IN ALL THE WRONG PLACES? 

I think I’ve done it all. I joined the run club. I extended my age range on Hinge. I locked eyes with a beautiful woman across the bar and beckoned with a tantalizing pointer finger and I’ve become far too intimate far too quickly with people I couldn’t even see a future with in the first place. I lost weight; I gained weight. I contracted scarlet fever from my first Feeld date and I still saw him again and again until the virus became nearly antibiotic resistant. I dressed in red at inappropriate times and also bought milkmaid dresses to conceal my features in case they might be perceived as voluptuous. I became very aloof and when that didn’t work I became friendly again. I joined a climbing gym. I made myself overly available. I got readings from a TikTok astrologer who told me I was to find a husband in six months and also that my dog would die soon (neither of which have happened). I got set up on blind dates and got stood up and stood others up. I think I’ve followed every single piece of romantic advice anyone’s ever given me and yet I am still so, so lonely. 

WHERE ARE THE BEAUTIFUL MEN AND WOMEN WHO WANT ME? Is Los Angeles a loveless place, as they all say? Where is my Romeo? Where is my Juliet? I am inclined to believe in love, Joy, and I know it’s hiding from me. You seem to be someone who has been lucky in love, perhaps more times than once. Please, I’m begging you, what am I doing wrong? I’m willing to move anywhere and try any activity BAR NONE! I JUST WANT TO BE LOVED PLEASE LET ME BE LOVED.

Any words of encouragement? Advice? Solace? Anything helps.

Loveless in Los Angeles

Dear Loveless,

I honestly don’t know what’s wrong with you, I’m sorry to say. But you are correct in your assumption that I have been incredibly lucky and blessed to find love in my life. Actually, I’ve found love in every crevice that I’ve managed to fit my beautiful perfect body into. I found love in the public bathroom in the Western Union next to the Chinese Theater on Hollywood Boulevard this morning, come to think of it. If you’re looking for a number of particularly erogenous locales in the area, I have a running mental list (largely because I have to avoid many areas like the plague… my lovers will stop at nothing to get one last taste!)

I got proposed to at a gas station parking lot in Temecula once, but I knew he wasn’t the one for me because was a big outdoorsman and I know too much about HAPE to ever be mistaken for a woman who hikes. I had a five month marriage to and divorce from this guy from (yes, legally a citizen of) Vatican City just to see about a green card arrangement but the politics of that place are a cesspool. I loved a zoologist in my early 20s because he used to let me feed the giraffes my home recipes, but I accidentally got him fired and myself in hot water…I would still be paying that hefty fine if not for the inheritance willed to me by one of the greatest loves of my life, a politician who will Not Be Named and who died peacefully in his sleep right around the time I found myself swimming in animal rights violation debt…you should perhaps consider hanging around exotic animal shelters OR gubernatorial rallies. You’d be shocked to see the intersection of the demographics betwixt the two. 

Car dealerships are a no go for the long term but a great way to pick up a hot date. The laser tag place in Burbank is teeming with eligible bachelors. The CDC has quarantine stations across most municipalities and many people have been waiting inside without companionship for weeks (if not months!) at a time. If I felt undesirable, I think that would be my starting point and I would grow from there.

I sincerely hope this helps you. I’m sure you’re a lovely person. You just need to broaden your horizons. You’re not going to find any self-respecting person in a run club, but you’d be hard-pressed to find a bad apple at a political rally.

With love, always,

Joy

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