Nothing like opening the ol’ inbox and finding this nugget on a Monday morning (from Marty in NYC):

1. Although I dont have regular anxiety (except after a weekend bender, so every Sun-Tues), I love me some pills. But I have a pretty young hip doctor that would see through any sob stories if I asked for a Xanax prescription. Any suggestions on a sob story to use? Or maybe just the name of your doctor if he’s loose with script pad?

2. Went to Anna Burritos when in Boston recently as you’ve been pushing that shit for years. That shit blows – thanks for nothing.

First, I’ve already referred two friends to my doctor, both of whom (I believe) were eventually prescribed Xanax. Therefore, I can’t give out his name, lest the well run dry. Uncle Jason needs his medicine.

My advice is pretty simple: get another doctor. My first primary care doctor, when I told him I couldn’t sleep and was anxious, told me to go to therapy. I immediately found a new doctor, who, upon hearing the same story, prescribed me a shit-ton of Xanax. So it’s not so much the story – unless you’re willing to tell a BIG lie, like a death-in-the-family caliber lie, which, for karmic reasons, you should probably not do – but the doctor. I’m sure if you go to WebMD, memorize the symptoms of anxiety and read them off, you’ll get something, if not Xanax.

Or, of course, you can just buy them from your local drug dealer. There’s always that.

(And to be clear, in the event that a family member or my employer is reading this: I believe in my heart of hearts that I actually did need the Xanax when it was first prescribed to me. I don’t use it recreationally, either; I’ve never understood how people can take a pill or two and then go out and hit the town. Instead, when I use it now, it’s usually on a Sunday night after a long weekend bender that Marty describes when I need some good, solid sleep. And it works really, really well.)

(And my doctor is really awesome, and steered me in the right direction when I went on that diet a few years back and lost 35 lbs in two months. Really great guy. Also, when I got my first STD test from him, he walked in the room, sat down, and said, “Ok…first, anything weird on your dick or your balls, babe?” Nothing like a middle-aged man with a spectacular Jew ‘fro calling you “babe” while asking about your genitals.)

Second, if you don’t like Anna’s, I really can’t help you. I’ll concede that I’ve had my fair share of “bad” Anna’s – sometimes the pork is fatty, sometimes there’s an uneven distribution of ingredients, sometimes the burrito is too loosely rolled and messy, etc. And it’s fast-paced and has a bit of a Soup Nazi feel to it, so you really have to know what you want and how to order it quickly. But over the long run, there’s not a better handheld burrito, in my opinion (to be fair, I’ve never been to Mexico, but I have lived in LA for 18 months and I once made out with a half-Puerto Rican girl, so I’m more or less an expert on this subject).

Next time you’re there, Marty, I invite you to order the Mulgrew: super steak, extra cheese, lettuce, no tomato, pinto beans, no hot sauce, lot of sour cream, side of guacamole, medium Orange soda. This is a recipe crafted over dozens – if not hundreds – of visits to Anna’s over the past twelve years, and it works perfectly. For example, by saying “a lot of” instead of “extra” sour cream, you’re not charged the extra 35 cents, but the burrito guy can’t help but put on a little more than he normally would. Also, if you order guacamole in the burrito, you run the risk (a high one, at that) that they’ll put the guac in only one part of the burrito. By getting a side of it, you can apply it to your liking on each bite.

(Sometimes I’ll switch up the meat – FYI: always go with boiled chicken over grilled chicken – and the beans, choosing refried instead of pinto, which makes for a messier and heavier but equally rewarding burrito. But otherwise, that’s my go-to, right there.)

I hope this helps, Marty. I wish you luck in all your future drug and burrito endeavors.