Tuesday, November 14, 2006

Dearest Delbut

Hi Folks. I have been invited to guest as an agony uncle for a local paper. Their normal one has gone missing, suspected to have run off with the sport's editor.

These readers' questions are honest to God REAL questions found in the Boots Health & Beauty magazine.

Q. I love wearing long hair straight, but the combination of daily straightening and cold weather has really dried it out. What can i do?

Martha

Uncle Delbut replies: Martha, What the fuck are you moaning about, woman? There are people sleeping on the streets, freezing their cocks off and you worry about hair?

You have several choices from what i can see.
1) Cut it all off and buy a wig.
2) Get over it and just wear it under a hat.
3) Wash it and when it's still wet, put some cling-film over it and stick your head in the fridge over night. This way your hair will be rigidly straight for up to 4 hours at a time.
4) Buy a pot of shallack and use it as a shampoo. That way you will be able to colour it and make it stay straight all in one go. This is the best solution as it lasts all winter and will keep your head dry when it rains.

Q. Since starting taking the pill, i suffer from vaginal dryness, which makes sex uncomfortable. What can i do to combat this?

Name and address supplied.

Delbut:
This is very common. It happens when you take the pill, have a bacterial imbalance or an infection such as chlamydia or thrush.

Another reason is it may be due to your fella being a fat, ugly twat who just doesn't do it for you. You need to try the following and let me know the outcome.

Stand upside down in the shower while the old man rubs in a vapour rub. It's no use as a lubricant (or is that lubricunt?) but it stings like shit and will kill any germs. Next, watch a Johnny Depp film and if that doesn't work, maybe one with Pamela Anderson because you may have turned into a dyke and blokes just dont do it for you.

If all else fails, study the photo of me (enclosed) and if you dont get soaking wet then, i suggest moving to a deserted island because you have no hope.

Q. It's our 10-month-old daughter's first christmas. Should i puree her a bit of everything that we will be eating for lunch.

Abigale

Delbut:

For the love of sweet Jesus. (appropriate for the topic, me thinks)IT'S A FUCKING BABY. It doesn't know how to not shit itself yet. It has no concept of who the fuck the baby Jesus is. Even if he does exist, which i doubt. It was a story made up by the major retailers of this world to make idiots like you buy their crap. Just give it what you normally do, you cretin. In fact, people like you shouldn't be allowed to have children.

Q. I'm dreading the forthcoming party season, as i'm going through the menopause -hot flushes etc. And the combination of the two don't really mix.

Trish.

Delbut: What? Why dont they mix? It gives you an excuse to be ratty with everyone - including the hostess by passing bitchy remarks about her shoes not matching her frock - and then saying: "it's not my fault, i'm going through the change." Bollocks! I dont believe it exists. It's just a time when you realise you are no longer attractive and cant pull anymore and you want people to notice you. News check, girl. It cuts no ice with me. If you want to turn into a miserable pain in the arse and just hit on your husband because the host hasn't checked out your tits for the last 10 minutes, you need to be honest about it. And anyway, the reason we dont check your tits out anymore is because we no longer know where they are. It takes 11 minutes to realise they have moved south by about 3 feet.

Go to the parties, let your husband ogle the young chick from next door and buy a vibrator.


Well people, what do you think of my first attempt of agony uncle? I think i'm bloody good. To the point, as it were.

Saturday, November 04, 2006

At last. A post that i didn't actually make up and what is full of lies.

Went to London last weekend. To see The Who, again! This post is not about how fucking brilliant they were; or about the twat who saw fit to create havoc in the crowd by picking on anyone smaller than him or had breasts. News for you dickbrain: you are probably the ugliest, stupidest, numb-nuts that came out of Scotland. And there have been a few.

I digress.

The day before the concert, wifey and I booked into a hotel in poshest Hamstead. To cut a long story short, we arranged to have dinner in the hotel. ( they offered £2 off for guests. not that i'm cheap, or anything)

anyway, it advertised that there would be a choice for starters, which included soup. Nope, no soup that i could find. No problem.

This is where it gets better. The hotel was full of Germans and Dutch tourists - I guess they were tourists. Could have been a circus troupe, i suppose? Who cares - so i guess we were lucky to get a table without having to remove towels from the seats. ( if you have ever been on holiday with Germans, you know what i'm on about.)

Some Germans, thinking they would get what looked like the last of the soup, rushed to the buffet table and helped themselves to ladels full of the stuff.

I started to giggle. I KNEW it wasn't soup. How did i know that? Because 2 minutes earlier i had poured the "soup" all over my beef dinner. IT WAS GRAVY, HANS, NOT SOUP YOU WANKER
Went out to the bar and had a fag -that's a ciggarette, not an uphill gardener - and went to take a piss -(Not in the bar, but in the toilet). There i was, holding what i have in my right hand, trying to piss as high as i could. (we do that) The door opens; i hear voices. One male, one female. Foreign. Dutch. In walks the bloke. I turn slightly; he looks at me and heads for the nearest stall to take a crap. Another body is to my left. It comes in, falters for a second when SHE sees me there. I nod; she comes in. OK, thought i, that's cool. She inhabits the crapper next to the one the bloke is in. They talk -in Dutch - through the stall walls. She is giggling; he is having a crap.

PLOP.
HIM: blah, blah, PLOP
HER: blah, blah, hee, hee
HIM: Nrggh. PLOP.
HER: blah, blah.
ME: Cant a man have a piss in peace?
ME: wee, wee, zip, wash hands. Return to bar.