T H E  P L A N E T   B I L L

T H E  P L A N E T   B I L L

A B O U T   D R .   B I L L

Dr. Bill is a widely renowned psychotherapist and family counselor.  He graduated with honors from the Tinklepaugh Center For Cognitive and Non Cognitive Studies in 1973 and has been helping individuals and families ever since.  His is the author of the recently published best selling book “Your Children Are Not Your Friends” as well as many others which can be purchased from theplanetbill.com.


He is currently board certified in Liberia and Burma, or whatever they call it now, the other two world superpowers  that are astute enough not to use the metric system.


If you would like Dr. Bill’s considerate and considerable help, email him at


Dear Dr. Bill,

I, and my friends are very serious cyclists, I mean we do centuries for heavens sake.  We have all the colorful attire and aerodydynamical helmets and everything. What makes me so angry is that many times when we are seriously cycling stupid little people in automobiles honk at us like we should move over for them.  What can I do to make them understand that I and my colleagues have just as much right to the road as they do?  Probably more, because we are not spewing deadly poisonous pollutants into our Mother’s lungs.They should be looking out for us.  SHARE THE ROAD, you monsters.
                              So Angry In Albia I Could Spit

Dear Spit,

  First of all, it’s aerodynamic.  The problem with these motorists is that they don’t know, as clearly you do (and as do I) that your activities are infinitely more important than theirs are.
  Ants should be on the lookout for pedestrians, pedestrians for bicyclists.  Motorcyclists should be watching for cars and cars for semi trucks.  It follows then that bicyclist should be aware of ______?  Try to fill in the blank.  If you are unable to do so, then hopefully you will be run over by the item that fills the blank before you can foist your DNA on an already severely diluted gene pool.  I hope this helps.  By the way, is the road shared a one way street?

Dear Dr. Bill,

I have a situation at home that is developing into quite a problem.  My wife “Kitten” is much younger than I and considerably more interested in affaires de l'amour than I.  After a hard day’s work, I just want to relax in front of the TV with a Pepsi and watch AMC or Turner Classic Movies, while “Kitten” is always pressuring me to have Olympic class sex.  I do my best, but the inventory in that area of my warehouse is pretty much depleted and I’m always worn out.  She hassles me to take ED drugs, but I can’t stand Bob Dole and am petrified that I’ll get one of those four hour erections they warn you about right when some scouts come to the door for a paper drive or to sell some cookies and I’ll end up on a watch list or something.  What can I do?
                                           Exhausted In Ankeny

Dear Exhausted,
  Well, “Kitten” seems like quite the hot little number.  I’d help you out myself, but am otherwise engaged.  Nonetheless, the solution to your problem is a breeze.  Find a place where young fellows congregate.  A church group, a sporting event or day laborers looking for work at The Home Depot.  Explain your problem to them and let them know that you’d like a surrogate for yourself to take care of “Kitten’s” needs.  Don’t actually use the word surrogate.  Any young man who knows what that means will probably be unable to complete the task at hand or do a very poor job of it.  We avoid crude language here, but be very direct with these lads and you’ll have plenty of takers.  “Kitten” will be happy and satisfied and you’ll be left in peace with your Pepsi and Jimmy Stewart.  Everybody wins.

Dear Dr. Bill
  Every day on my way home from work I seem to get stuck behind a school bus.  It goes about 2 miles an hour and stops every 200 feet or so to let some fat little kids off.  What in the hell is going on here?  Don’t these people know I’ve got better things to do than wait behind a bus?  What in the hell can I do?
                                                      Pissed in Pella

Dear Pissed,
  It is very possible that these children and the bus driver are not aware that the earth revolves around you.  You know it and I know it, but what can I say?  Since it does, I see no reason for you not to just ignore the stop lights on the bus and just blast on around it.  It will help teach the little wankers survival skills that they will be able to utilize later in life.  If one gets hit, well that’s just natural selection at work, right?  You should be aware of the downside to your impatience.  The local constabulary generally frown on running over children and the possibility exists that you could find yourself in Ft. Madison with some tatted up AB fellow who really, really likes you.

Dear Dr. Bill,
  I have noticed that you frequently admonish those who write in for advice for using non family oriented language, yet you yourself lapse into the usage of crude terms frequently.  Why the double standard?   Who put you in charge of the language police?
                                  Wondering in New Sharon

Dear Wondering,
  Scroll to the top of this page.  Does it say The Planet Wondering or The Planet Bill?  Answer this one for yourself and you may be able to figure it out, douche water for brains.

Dear Dr Bill,
  I am a big supporter of liberal causes and the current administration and show my support by plastering bumper stickers all over my car in an expression of my freedom.  All these so called Tea Party people are frightening me,   I want to continue to show my support for these wonderful causes, but I am terrified of reprisals against me, my husband "Griffin" and my son "Andy" by these people.  I have no one to turn to but you.
                                            Scared In Sigourney

Dear Scared,
  Don't be such a pussy.  Here on The Planet Bill we like to be proactive in our approach to these types of problems.  Go to a gun safety class, they are inexpensive and family oriented so you can take "Griffin" and "Andy" with you.  Once that's done, get a concealed weapons permit, then get a small revolver.  Load the first three chambers with rat shot and the others with some hollow points.  Once you have accomplished these simple tasks, your fears will evaporate like acetone in the sun.
 Then when some age addled Korean War vet or Lens Crafter wearing you betcha housefrau takes umbrage with your bumperwear, introduce them to Mr. Ruger or Ms. Smith and say something pleasant along the lines of "Get the fuck out of here before I give something to really protest about like your upcoming emergency room bill."  You'll feel fine.  The one downside to this is that now you're not really a liberal anymore because you've taken matters into your own hands, you've got a gun and you may have to remove your bumper stickers anyway.  Hope this helps.

Dear Dr. Bill,
  There is this girl at my work, Tiffani that I find very desireable and attractive even though my office mates refer to her as "that skinny ole ugly girl".  I'm a long time reader of your column and found my situation similar to "Needing It In Beacon's", so I tried your recommended approach.  Well, it didn't work out very well for me.  She smacked me in the side of the head with her Blackberry and called office security who frog marched me out of the building after the boss fired me in front of everybody. Where did I go wrong?  What are my chances with Tiffani?
                                        Confused in Eddyville

Dear Confused,
  The salutation is certainly apropo.  I take it you are not working for a think tank.  I am not sure what the smallest negative number is but it is much larger than your chances with Tiffani.  The advice you refer to was to a person of the female persuasion.  That approach rarely works for men.
  Women are sensitive, delicate creatures and require a most subtle approach.  Start by being friendly and doing small kindnesses like getting her coffee or some jelly doughnuts or telling her you like her new dress or hairdo.  Later a non commital lunch then drinks after dinner.  Make pleasant, benign conversation.  Only after it is quite clear that she has warmed to you would it be appropriate for you to grab those fun bags or hit that honeypot.  Hope this helps.

Dear Dr. Bill,
  My husband “Jim” and I have a delicate issue at home and we certainly hope you can give us some advice.  Our son, “Roger” is 29 years old, doesn’t have a job and won’t look for one.  He says that nothing available suits his intellect.  “Roger” just sits around the house all day eating Pringles and JuJuBees and watching The View, games shows and reruns of Judge Joe Brown.  “Jim” and I both work hard all day long and when we come home the house is a mess and “Roger” starts right in about wanting his dinner.  He’s our son and we think we love him.  What in the world can we do?
                                  Beside Ourselves In Wellman
Dear Beside,
My first inclination is to suggest that you, “Jim” and “Roger” take a little trip on Monoxide Airways to Boliva, but it’s the weekend of religious holidays and I am feeling charitable, so I’ll take a slightly softer approach.
  Boy, you and Jim sure dropped a turd in the gene pool didn’t you?  Did you ever consider whether “Roger’s” “issues” were due to heredity or environment?  Oh yeah, it’s immaterial, you and “Jim” are responsible for both.
  First counsel “Roger” that not everyone can be Secretary of State right off the bat.  You may also wish to inform him that an intellect is fueled by The View would probably be just as adequately fueled by a spatula or a shovel.
  Next send “Roger” on a day excursion of some sort.  While he is enjoying what will hopefully be the last of your largesse, have the locks changed.  When “Roger” comes back, tell him through the door that he doesn’t live there anymore.  Ignore his whining and crying until he leaves.  You may find this a little difficult at first.  If you feel you can’t go through with it, better make the aforementioned travel plans.

Dear Dr. Bill,
  I really need your advice.  I am have been on unemployment compensation for almost two years and now my benefits are fixing to expire in two months.  I have been looking off and on for a job but can’t find a thing that suits my needs and education level.  I graduated from Bithlo Community College with a degree in Art History Custodianship.  Hello!  I am at my wits end.  I don’t see why the congress can’t extend my benefits like they are everyone elses?
                               Mad At Congress In Bithlo  

Dear Mad,
  I can certainly see why you would be angry.  Try this ploy for extending your government benefits.  Go to the office from which your benefits emanate and kill off some of those workers who have so wantonly and cruelly cut you off what is rightfully yours. (In the study of social mores, we call this “thinning the herd”). Who the hell do they think they are?  A handgun will work well for this.  This will entitle you to the benefit known as prison.  You’ll receive free housing, three nutritious meals a day and good health care and you don’t have to do one goddamn thing for it.  Sounds like it might be right up your alley.  One thing to remember, the number of years you will receive your benefits is directly proportional to the number of government workers you put on a “permanent retirement plan”.

Dear Dr. Bill,
  I’m 20 years old and go to a small college in a small midwestern town.  There’s like this guy, “Ben” in my Revisionist History class that I really, really like, if you know what I mean, but he won’t give me the time of day, literally.  When I asked him what time it was the other day, he like said “Time for you to buy a watch?  How can I get him to like me and give me what I want and need and deserve?.
                                    Needing It In Beacon
Dear Needing,
  First, get your tubes tied.  You are clearly not procreation material.  Then approach “Ben”, smile brightly and say in a sweet voice “Hi, Ben, I’ve got something special for you”, while placing your hand on his private region.  If he still doesn’t respond, check his dorm room and car.  If they are very clean and tidy, he may be playing for the other team   If this is the case, try this to satisfy your needs:  Go to the local livestock auction and try the same approach on a fat guy with pig shit on his footwear.  You’ll be surprised at how well this technique works.

Dear Dr. Bill,
  When I went to the store the other day, I was driving around and around looking for a good parking spot.  I finally found one close to the store and one row over.  Just as I got there, someone took my spot.  If that wasn’t bad enough,  when I went into the store to get a cake for me and my husband Jimmy, they were sold out of my favorite double chocolate!  This doesn’t seem fair!!  I was so upset!!!  How can I calm myself down when things like this happen?
                                            Vexed in Rockdale

Dear Vexed,