Some might associate worldy wisdom with the weathered skin of an old man who has lived through it all. Some might seek more timely or hip answers from a younger individual who has youthful insight.

At Garbage House, our advice columnist is from the best of both worlds! Lollipops is a 10 year old stuck in a 70 year olds body. He currently fronts the punk band Aged Youth, gets into movie theaters at the senior discount rate and likes to read Curious George books. Feel free to ask Lollipops a question at the bottom of this page!

Q: Dear Lollipops:

Lollipops, recently I have been having a dream that scares me and makes my buds laugh their asses off. I guess the dream starts with me walking down the street in Germany (hey, I've never even been there before) with my boyfriend. He gets shot at and I jump in front of him to take the bullet. He shoves me down so I won't get hit, but just as the bullet is about to hit his head, My hand shoots up and catches it.

Afterwards, I open my hand and there's a burn there in the shape of the bullet. Funny thing is, the first time I had this dream, I woke up with the same burn on my hand, and it hasn't gone away. It's been three weeks, and I have the same dream almost every night. What do you think this could mean?

Lollipops Answers:

Clearly, this means you are Christ. The selfless saving of your boyfriend indicates the sacrifices you will make for humanity. The burn on your hand is a manifestation of the stigmata, the wounds that Christ suffered on the cross. This is a very exciting career move for you! Forget hourly wage, forget cable tv, forget the pressures of sex that your boyfriend is likely pushing on you right now. You have a new life now as savior of the world.
This involves loving your enemy, giving up all of your possessions and NO SEX. ever. nope, not ever.

You will likely have to answer lots of questions regarding your new position in the world, including, 'if God loves us why does he make progeria kids,' 'why don't any of the other 3rd graders have to face their own mortality?,' and 'Will they find a cure for progeria before November, because thats how long the doctor gave me?'

You will also likely be very poor and have to die in some horrible way. But cheer up, you're taking the burden of sin off of billions!

Q: Dear Lollipops:

I recently have found myself fantasizing about large hairy monster-men wearing giant dog-head masks. I am in the front seat of a LandCruiser (TM) and one jumps on the roof and punches through, grabs my wispy blouse and proceeds to scrape off my tits with a sweep of his powerful muscled hand. Several men are around me and try to super-glue my tits back on but I am very titillated by the dog-man's power and push the white boys away. The dogman systematically eats everybody's brains except for mine and then he picks me up and carries me off to his forest lair.

This is as far as the fantasy goes, but everytime I have it I end up dripping wet and masturbating for hours. I do not like dogs in general; plus I am allergic to them. I have 18 cats. Am I normal?

Lollipops Answers:

Are you in New Orleans? It appears that you have been taking too many drugs at Mardi Gras. Someone perhaps slipped you an extra hit of acid. The monster men were simply frat boys wearing Mardi Gras masks and we all know that unmasked frat boys like to swipe at tits normally let alone behind the anonymity of a mask. One of the frat boys showed you a particularily shiny set of 32 cent beads and he took you back to his house where he lives with 8 other guys with half-empty Chef Boyardee cans, beer bottles, egg cartons and last weeks cat vomit on the floor.

I once asked my Mom when I could drink a beer (let alone be able to attend Mardi Gras) and she blurted "When you get a little older." We both cried for 3 days.

After you pass out there he loses his erection and let's his other 3 roommates (who are currently at home watching a Billy Squier concert on pay-per-view) have their way with you. They dump you behind a 7/11 dumpster before their girlfriends come over later. Perhaps you wake up the next morning masturbating to Escape from the Planet of the Apes and begin a fresh new week. 18 cats is way too many.