I love my dad, but I'm going to lobotomize myself if I have to be his tech-support serf forever. When can I stop taking parental IT calls?

Having generously donated half your DNA, your pops is certainly entitled to some hand-holding as he navigates the frightening realms of Windows Vista and Facebook status updates. But if you're on the verge of jamming pencils into your frontal lobes, it's time to cut the cable.

That doesn't mean you need to go all unhelpful-IT-department on him ("Sorry, that is not supported"). Instead, says Laura Funk, a fellow at the University of Victoria's Center on Aging, "gently suggest that your father take some basic computer workshops. You could even offer to pay for them as a holiday present." Alternatively, on your next visit, walk dear old Dad through the basics of troubleshooting. And bring along one of those "For Dummies" books.

Then drop the hammer: If his hard drive starts screeching and smoking, sure, he can call. But short of that? He'll have to muddle through or call the Geek Squad. Tough love is still love; surely he gave you some of that, too.

I'm about to undergo breast-augmentation surgery. I'm also a bit of a privacy nut. Can I ask my doctor not to put my implants' serial numbers in my medical records?

Ah, a potential Skinemax classic: An ordinary woman gets her boobs enlarged and the next thing you know she's being chased by Russians, the Mob, and sunglass-wearing thugs from some obscure branch of the Department of Agriculture.

We'd definitely stay up extra late to watch that flick, but if that's the kind of scenario you're worried about, the news is bad: Federal law compels implant manufacturers to keep tabs on their wares, and doctors are forbidden from interfering with that requirement. You may not buy the Man's explanation, but this is ostensibly for your own safety; if a batch of implants were found to be defective, wouldn't you want to know whether your melons were lemons?

If you prefer to play things close to the chest, though, you needn't overshare with the manufacturer. According to a spokesperson for implant maker Mentor, "A patient can always refuse to release her name, Social Security number, or other identifying information"; the only things the company will know then are where and when you got the surgery. And keep in mind, it's not like those things are carrying RFID chips.

Sure, you could probably go overseas and find a shady surgeon willing to stuff your chest with bootleg implants. (Rumor is that anything goes in Bangkok.) But if you're paranoid enough to take such an enormous health risk (you were going for enormous, right?), what makes you think you're going to deflect attention with a bodacious rack? In our experience, that's not how it works.

What's the rule of thumb on expired medicines? I just popped a past-its-prime Tylenol, and it seemed to work fine. Are those expiration dates just a corporate racket?

Drug companies do, indeed, tend to err on the side of caution — and they're not exactly averse to selling you a new bottle of pills before your old one is empty. A few years back, the FDA evaluated a US military stockpile of aging drugs and found that 90 percent were perfectly safe and effective past their expiration dates. One of those medications, a remedy for nerve gas poisoning, still worked after sitting on a shelf for 15 years longer than recommended. So yeah, that date on the bottle is certainly a conservative estimate and may even be a bit random.

But that doesn't mean you should start popping pills from the Clinton era. For starters, much depends on how they've been stored — you'll want to toss any that have been exposed to extreme temperatures and are crumbling into chalk.

More important, it's best to confine your pharmaceutical gambles to situations in which there isn't a huge potential downside if the drug isn't effective. If you take an old Tylenol and it doesn't work, no worries — just buy a new pack. But if you're bound for the Amazon Basin, a fresh bottle of antimalarials is mandatory. You can decide for yourself where Viagra falls on this spectrum.

Need help navigating life in the 21st century? Email us at mrknowitall@wired.com.