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  Complaint and Unsolicited Advice Department   xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  Does something on this site stick in your craw? Or anything else, for that matter? Is your boss getting you down? Still waiting for the Law of Gravity to be repealed? Ask Dr. Aardvark for advice — or just complain. Use the handy form (at right). All communications will be handled with the strictest confusion.  
Yes, Confused, There is a Swag

Does the swag really exist? Are these clues for real? Will I ever find the swag? Should I even bother? My friends are laughing at me even as we speak. Stay tuned for more complaining...

(Signed) Confused


Dr. Aardvark's Response:

Confused, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except that they see. In this great universe of ours man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect, as compared with the boundless world about him. Not believe in The Swag! You might as well not believe in fairies! A thousand years from now, Confused, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, The Swag will continue to make glad the hearts of web surfers everywhere.

Bad Cess from Sunny Climes


Dear Mr. Aardvark:

I find I must object in the most strenuous terms to your flagrant disregard for the principles of web site usability standards. I mean, hiding pages where no one can find them unless they stumble on them by accident just isn't done. And what about these forms that do nothing except lead you into endless vacuous drivel? And what is this Swag business? I agree with Confused (above). You should be tarred and feathered and run out of town on a rail.

Mrs. Farmer Angus L. Probendary (Retired)


Dr. Aardvark's Response:

Wait a minute! Aren't you that same Mrs. Angus L. Probendary whose husband sold out to the cows leaving West Aardvark vulnerable to the Great Cow Invasion of 2003?

I thought so.

So how are things in Florida? As for the web site, I burp in the general direction of your usability standards. However, the old Aardvark is not adverse to providing a site map, which should clear things up roundly, if not squarely. It should be visible forthwith.

Zeta Poised for Big Splash on Broadway



You! Aardvark! Are you the same aardvark who is in charge of the Universal Department of Gravity? I've seen your picture in the Harvard Review, and you have a long nose. But I digress.

I'm mad as hell about Gravity. The problem is that I want to fly and gravity won't let me.

Could you please fix this at your earliest convenience, a.k.a. RIGHT NOW. I am currently on a ledge thirty stories up overlooking downtown Manhattan.

Yours sincerely, you jerk, and with heartfelt wishes for your future prosperity,

I remain,

Zeta von Bungle
Late of the Picadilly Apartments


Dr. Aardvark's Response:

Dear Ms. von Bungle

It's a good thing you caught us when you did. We were about to head into the bathroom for a nice long soak in the tub. We use, of course, the Imperial "we". This is a family Web site.

Unfortunately, we are not the Chairman of the Universal Department of Gravity. We are, however, the Chairman of the Universal Committee for the Regulation of the Atlantic Ocean. And we do have a remote switch here in the kitchen for just such emergencies. There. Twenty stories deep should do it. Just jump right off. We assume you can swim.

Sorry about Bermuda and the West Indies. And for that matter, most of the East Coast of North America.


Remind Us to Buy a Suit


I'm mildly ticked! Aardvark Al tends to exaggerate! If I write one sentence, he stretches it to three paragraphs! If this were anything else but the World wide web, I would take him to the really big giganormous claims court and then take him to the cleaners (after throwing ice cream all over his favourite suit, of course!!).

Yours ever jestingly,

Bungle von Zeta
(Not to be confused with Zeta von Bungle)


Dr. Aardvark's Response:

Dear Ms. Zeta (if, indeed, that is your name!)

We think we're beginning to understand. You say you're Bungle von Zeta, and yet you turn around and refer indirectly to a previous complaint that you submitted under the nom de snark of Zeta von Bungle. We weren't born yesterday, Ms. Zeta von Bungle von Zeta!

It's one of those alternate reality things, isn't it? Bungle and Anti-Bungle, is it? Getting down to the realm of quantum physics, are we? Viewed a different way, and the Zeta von Bungle particle becomes a Bungle von Zeta wave? Or perhaps you've just met your doppleganger, and discover you're both irked at Aardvark Al.

No matter. We're quite mature enough to accept constructive criticism, so nyaaahhhh!

Parenthetically, we don't mind if you throw ice cream on our favorite suit (if we had a suit), as long as it's Heavenly Hash.









What's your name?
(Pseudonyms accepted)

What's your problem?

How ticked off are you?