Dear Nan Glanders

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DEAR NAN GLANDERS *** Dear NAN GLANDERS By BETA McGAVIN Illustrated by SUMMERS _A time-travelling friend of ours recently returned from the future with the following clipping from the_ Galactic Times. _It seems that even in the world of tomorrow, there will always be an advice column, and that folks will still be worried about such humdrum things as interplanetary etiquette, and cosmic sex._ [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Amazing Stories August 1962 Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Dear Miss Glanders: From his childhood my Johnny has been an avid collector of bugs, snakes, birds' nests and other things. Our little Centurian home is crammed full with extra-terrestrial life forms as well. I put up with it as long as I could. Yesterday he brought home a native Centurian female. As you know it is a quasi-intelligent mammalian form with the breasts and hips of a woman, fish scales and tail and a horned head. Johnny insists he's going to marry her. What shall I do? Distressed Mother _Dear Distressed_: _I suggest you contact your local fish and game department._ * * * * * Dear Nan Glanders: I am a hostess noted for my parties. Tomorrow we will have the Sirian ambassador and 2 of his 3 wives coming for a dinner party. How many forks and knives will be necessary for a guest with 3 sets of tentacles? Should I seat one of his wives on either side of him, or what? Worried _Dear Worried_: _Seating arrangements are unnecessary as Sirians prefer to hang attached by the dorsal suction disk from a ceiling fixture and suspend their elongated trunks to the table below. Just have a dish of adobe type clay handy on the table and let them help themselves._ * * * * * Dear Miss Glanders: My mother-in-law is a noted TK with a high range of ESP and Prescience. Today she asked me if I was pregnant. Do you think she could have peeked at my mind? P.S. I am 5 months along but still get into my everyday clothes with the help of a safety pin. Concerned _Dear Safety-pinned_: _It's high time_ You _peeked--and buy a maternity smock while you're at it_. _Confidential to "What will it be?" I've consulted an obstetrician for you. He said the baby_ has _to be human. A simple matter of differential chromosomes. So relax._ * * * * * Dear Nan: I was the victim of a billion to one transplat accident. When I came out of the transmitter after commuting to work one day, 2 extra copies of my original body rather than only the usual one were reassembled at the receiving end. In other words I became triplets with each person having the same memories and all. Nobody was around so I decided not to report it to the transplat company. Until now I was an ordinary guy who faithfully hands over his paycheck to the old girl every payday. Don't get me wrong, now. I'm a happily married man but I do like having a little spending money for myself and a night out with the boys every now and then. So the three of us made a deal. While one of us went to work, another one would be home and the third out on the town. We took turns, share and share alike. Then our wife caught two of us together and guessed the rest. She is suing for divorce and charging bigamy. We still love her though. How can we get her to listen to reason? Since the case is in the newspapers anyway, I might as well sign my name. Married for better or worse. Jimmy Jones Jimmy Jones Jimmy Jones _Dear Joneses_: _Either reintegrate, or draw straws and two of you skidoo._ * * * * * Dear Nan Glanders: I am a debutante on tour through the United Planets. I have never been so humiliated in my life. Yesterday I was presented to a Rigellian and he spat on my new shoes. I would have slapped his face if I could have decided which one to hit. Steaming _Dear Steaming_: _Simmer down. Spitting on the feet is the traditional Rigellian gesture of welcome. You should have replied by stepping on his tail. Next time read your tourists' guide book better._ *** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DEAR NAN GLANDERS ***