Dear Peakie: Where Are They Now?

What happens when you follow Peakie’s advice? This, that’s what

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Gold balloons spelling “dad” in front of a wall of ties.
PHOTO: Tim Mossholder / Unsplash

By: Sonya Janeshewski, SFU Student and Olivia Visser, Copy Editor

Dear Peakie, 

Last time we spoke, you gave me advice on how to perfect my dad-sona. After much introspection, I found that I’m less of a punny dad and more of a socks with sandals kind of dad. My newfound confidence in my dad-entity helped me meet my wife! I met Roxannica at a barbeque. She kept saying she liked my tan cargo pants, so to seal the deal, I whispered, “I always blast videos at full volume.” I should’ve worn my shants for easier access, but they didn’t stay on too long anyway. Unfortunately, dad-sona rizz is not a solid enough foundation for a marriage. As I write this, my wife, Roxannica, is fighting for custody of our oven but, that’s a story for a different Dear Peakie letter. 

Sincerely,
Dream (and soon-to-be divorced) Daddy

Dear Dream (and soon-to-be divorced) Daddy,

This is most unfortunate, indeed. While I cannot offer advice for your impending divorce, I may be able to assist in your future romantic endeavours. First of all, might I introduce you to the concept of a red flag? Yes, dad-sonas are all the rage these days, but there is a fine line between zany and creepy — let’s be real. You say you discovered that you’re less of a “punny” dad and instead a “socks-with-sandals” kind of dad. Yet, is one really complete without the other? I hate to break it to you, but your beloved Roxannica was likely overwhelmed by your overbearing, socks-and-sandals-wearing, un-punny self — not your dad-sona, if you ever had one. My advice? Throw the word “rizz” out of your vocabulary, pick up some dad jokes, and lower the volume on your videos. I told you to be whimsically mundane the last time we spoke, not insufferable. I bet you wish you had a dad joke to get you out of this situation!

You’ll get there some day (probably),
Peakie

Dear Peakie,

I’m graduating this year, so, when it comes to following your advice about getting as engaged as SFU, I knew it was now or never. I started off by hitting on my classmate because we had a quiz I was NOT ready for, but on the second date he asked for three of my fingernails for an experiment to try and clone me, so I made a plausible excuse and dropped the class. Later, I tried spilling my books on the ground and thankfully this dude who was NOT my type picked them up. I asked him out because it takes real courage to wear something on campus that isn’t a grey hoodie or a black jacket. But I guess a lot of people fell for that, because his dorm room looked like a New York subway station. So, in economics class I complained about not understanding The Wolf of Wall Street, which got me Bradwick Stinebergson’s number. He said he had to get married by age 19 before his youth dries up, so he proposed within a week with a gold ring, which was bent from all the times the size had been adjusted. But, we were playing Monopoly with his cousin one day, and I accidentally asked him to go print more money. That set him off so much he broke off our engagement, so looks like I’ll have to transfer after all. 

Sincerely,
#1 Most Single University Student (still not engaged)

Dear #1 Most Single University Student (still not engaged),

Woah, woah, woah. I do not remember telling you to use your lack of academic and cinematic knowledge to land a man. No, my advice was to open up with information about your life goals: “I suggest sitting next to the cute, edgy guy in your seminar class and introducing yourself by telling him all about your dream wedding.” Relationships are built on trust and honesty. Honesty is being upfront about your ideal 4-carat engagement ring and $150,000 wedding goals. How are these boys supposed to know your intentions when you deceive them so? I told you to be an open book, not to lower your standards. While your time may be running out, I would suggest trying once more, and this time following my original advice to a T. 

Put a ring on it (seriously, like, soon),
Peakie

Dear Peakie,

How silly I was to take your advice. I did what you said about removing layers throughout the day as it gets warmer, and now I’m banned from most public places. 

Sincerely,
Not So Sunny

Dear Not So Sunny,

Oh, my. I struggle to find any instance where I ever suggested de-layering in warm weather. Nay, I specifically told you to LAYER in COLD WEATHER: “If it’s six degrees on Burnaby Mountain, it’s three degrees inside the AQ. Leave the house in crocs, jeans, and a light sweater, but bring a jacket and thick socks in case your toesies get cold.” I’ll say it once — both for your sake and for our readers’ sake — I am not responsible for any misconstruction of my advice, and I won’t stand for this type of accusation. Ever heard of defamation? No? Yeah, clearly not, but I have. Consider this a warning, or your days will really start to feel Not So Sunny. 

Watch yourself,
Peakie

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