Dear WTF:

Due to the tragic Killer Whale trainer death, I am literally terrified of all fish now. I find myself afraid of feeding my goldfish for fear that they will jump out and rip my face off. What should I do?

Missy

Listen Missy,

Don’t be ridiculous. It was a fucking KILLER whale for christ’s sake. When someone gets smooshed by a semi-truck are you suddenly afraid of Hotwheels? Maybe if you had said clown fish I could at least understand the nightmares and screaming. Now I’m just inclined to think you’re being an idiot. Goldfish. Like I have time for this.

Find a foster home for those poor fish immediately. And give me back my hamster before you go camping. All I need is for you to see a bear shit in the woods. In fact, if this is the way you’re going to get over every little horrifying death, you have no business being a grief counselor in the first place. Do me a favor. Go back inside. Pull the covers over your head, and stop all communication with the outside world. And by world, I mean me.

JT

JT is searching for recipes. Not the seafood variety, but Donner Party recipes. Got a good sauce that compliments Braised Idiot? Send it to WTFWJTD@gmail.com. Let’s just call it Natural Selection at its most delicious.