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Ask a Nut Butter Specialist

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Featuring today’s top minds, in nut butter science, addressing your urgent concerns. Romance? Career? Intimacy? Horticulture? Xenobiology? Our nut butter scientists can help.

Hello, yes, I’m Liam Neeson, a specialist in peanut butter creaminess, with a Ph.D from Northern University Temecula State. Go Fighting Nuts! There were too many great questions this week to answer them all. But keep sending in your questions and I’ll answer what I can.

Confused in Temecula

Dear Mr Neeson. I recently started dating someone and I really like them. As you know Thanksgiving is coming up and I don’t know if it’s too early to invite him over for family dinner. We’ve only been seeing each for two weeks but I really like him. What should I do? BTW, I really liked you in Taken.

Hello Confused in Temecula. Well, it sounds like you’re about to start a great new adventure. I remember that time when possibilities were everywhere and the world was mine. The first time I met a girl’s family, I was so nervous. There were butterflies in my stomach. I didn’t know what to do. That’s when I remembered my father’s dying words: “Son, you’re the best of me, the best I ever did. Take the good with the bad. A rolling stone gathers no moss. And remember, never stick your dick in almond butter. It’s gritty, and hurts like hell. Peanut butter, that’ll do ya right every time. The scientifically designed creaminess puts an extra spring in every man’s step.” After that, he died on the table in the fourteenth hour of a routine femurectomy. My father didn’t live long after dying.

That’s when I knew I was going to be a big shot in the fabulous world of peanut butter, as a renowned creamologist (I’m basically the Steve Jobs of peanut butter). So, just remember to use plenty of creamy peanut butter, Confused In Temecula, and you’ll have a great Thanksgiving.

P.S. I know we have the same name, but I am not that Liam Neeson. His palor is missing the warming hues of salted peanut butter.

Blue-Ballin’ for Dishes

Dear Liam Neeson, I’ve got a severe problem at home. Right now, my sex life is in the dumps. My wife and I haven’t done, well y’know, in a few months. So, my question is, how many dishes do I need to do to get my wife to have sex with me. And, how many more to get her to enjoy it? BTW, you were awesome those Taken movies. Can’t wait to see the next one!

Just a reminder, again, I am not, THAT, Liam Neeson. He’s tall, I’m only 6′ 3″. He’s got ruggedly handsome features. I only have a strong jaw, high cheek bones, and thick hair. His deep voice is lilted with a charming North Irish accent. Mine comes from fisherman’s warfs of County Derry near Fearg’uilb’ought’o’n. Besides, you can tell he doesn’t get enough crunchy peanut butter from the Temecula South Wind Peanut farms (providing the best crunchy peanut butter to prisoners since Toilent Green was discontinued for legal reasons). It’s obvious if you look at his cuticles. Now, to your question.

This is a real doozy. There’s no exact science to this one, so I did a little research and found some great books: “Men are Imbeciles,” “I Married You Because I Didn’t Want to Pay for a Butler,” and “The Idiots Guide to Marriage, Life Insurance, and Planning the Murder of a Loved One.” So, I’ve got some good news, and some bad news. Good news? It’s theoretically possible to do enough dishes to get your wife to have sex with you. It might even be possible to do enough that she enjoys it. Don’t hold your breath though. I’ve put this chart together to give you, and our readers, some guidance.

  • 0-10 saucer plates: fuck off with your junior varsity bullshit
  • Cleaning the inside of a turkey baster after Thanksgiving: congrats, you’ve pushed back your impending divorce by one more day
  • Two full loads a week: your wife will stop having sex with your brother once a week to watch the same show, in the same room, with you (but not the same couch, you fucking self-important asshole)
  • Cleaning the dishes BEFORE you put them in the dishwasher: a handy, but no longer than 3 minutes, and tomorrow. Your brother is calling now and your wife just got a headache and has to go out for the rest of the night to feel better, wearing her LBD.
  • Cleaning the dishwasher before cleaning the dishes: You didn’t put them in the right way? Penalty box. You can look at her clothed buttock in the morning before work, for two minutes.
  • Cleaning the dishes before they get dirty using the special soap that her mother bought and aligning each dish inside the dishwasher with precision measurements while changing the baby’s diaper and vacuuming: much to her surprise, your wife just thought about sex with you. She did chuckle to herself before completely dismissing the idea and leaving to get a Brazilian wax from Hector, the Haitian pool boy and personal trainer.
  • Doing the dishes, the laundry, massaging her feet, vacuuming, washing, drying, cooking, doing the dishes again and serving her with divorce papers: Congratulations! Your wife has a begrudging respect for your power play. She agrees to lower herself enough to let you put your penis inside of her and flop around like a sea bass gasping for oxygen, but only if the lights are off and she can call you Jack Hammer (oddly enough also the name of your boss). Double surprise! You’re having another baby, again. Now you’ll never have the energy to dare to want sex.

When in doubt, put a jar of silky smooth, velvety peanut butter in the microwave for 2 minutes, until it warms up to 98.6 degrees. Then, light some candles, put a few more dishes away, relax and enjoy the sensual exploration of your peanut butter from the South Wind Temecula Peanut Farms, America’s Top 400 replacement for Toilent Green.