Thursday 6 November 2008

Royal MAIL (Massively Anal Imbecilic Louts)

Hello and shut up.

I am in something of a bad mood. In fact, it could be said that I am going postal. Allow me to explain.

My good friend Dave was kind enough to do me the honour of devoting his exemplary artistic skills towards producing an A3 poster promoting my band's gig on Saturday. Rendered entirely in wax crayon, this was to be a veritable feast to the eye. However, as he is also extremely lazy, he only finished this on Tuesday. Compounding the problem, he also insists on living in Cheltenham, which as many of you may know, is a pretty long walk from Norwich.

'Never mind!' I said to him enthusiastically. 'Her Majesty's mail will get us out of this conundrum!'

He agreed, and despatched the large piece of art off to me using what the Royal Mail likes to call their 'Special Delivery'. It all sounds foolproof doesn't it. The poster is special, the delivery is special, and I am especially excited. So excited, in fact, that I thought ahead to any mishaps that may befall the process.

'Oh ho!' I thought (for I think in a very archaic manner). 'But what of the breadth of my letterbox? Could it be that it is too small for the task in hand?' I mused further. And then I concocted a very simple solution. Next to my door is a brown cupbourd, which contains a bin, and some binbags, and is just large enough for three full-grown humans (as we discovered during a fun game of 'Hide Three People in a Cupboard' on one drunken Saturday evening). So I penned the following note before work this morning, and set off contentedly.

For those hard of seeing, it reads 'Hello Postman (or woman)! If the package I'm expecting is too big for the postbox, please put it in the cupboard to your right! It'll be fine in there. Thanks!', followed by a large arrow pointing directly at the cupboard.

I came home later to find the note still on the door, and excitedy flung open the cupboard. Nothing. 'Oh tish and fie!' I though Victorianishly, 'the dratted thing's not come!' Dejected, I made with the key in the lock and opened my front door to find this glaring at me from the mat.

I don't like to use abbreviations, but WTF?! On second thoughts, I'm not going to use one at all. What the fuck?! The thing was squatting there like a little papery tosspot, just daring me to punch it square in its bureaucratic face. Which I did.

Once I'd run my hand under the cold tap for a while, I came back and had a look at it. The second tick, you may be able to make out, sits just next to the words 'A signature is required'. At first, I thought that they had refused to deliver Dave's artwork because he'd neglected to autograph it, but I quickly dismissed that as retarded. They wanted a signature from me.

Why? I'd clearly given them leave to shove their package in my cubby hole, and that's not permission I grant to many people, I can assure you. And in writing, no less! Who else could have stuck the note on my door - a malicious neighbor who knows that I'm expecting a package and wants to steal Dave's crappy childish scrawlings? Fat chance. The whole thing beggars belief, and I've a good mind to lie in wait for the postman/woman tomorrow morning, then jump out and punch him/her in his/her stupid fat mouth. It'd be the least they deserve.

Anyway, this has not put me in the best state of mind for this evening's medical subject. As I've proven myself to be an able and chisel-jawed purveyor of medicine both physical and mentical, I have chosen to make today's blog a problem page. All of the problems are genuine and were submitted to me today by close friends and/or workmates. So, come one come all and marvel at

Auntie Dan's Helpful Dose (or ADHD)

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Dear Dan,

My ears sweat. Please help.

Thanks,

Wet Lobes - Norwich

Well, Wet Lobes, you are in a pickle aren't you. And I don't mean a delicious kind. I suggest that you liberally cover your moist auditories with talcum powder before going anywhere, although with such a stupid condition I doubt anyone's going to want you there when you arrive. If it gets very bad, try strapping two hand-fans to each shoulder. With any luck you'll turn your head sharply and one of them will take your lip off, thus sparing us any more of your pointless moaning.

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Dear Daniel,

Whenever I have an alcoholic beverage, I can’t stop at just one. I think this is becoming a problem as I bought a crate of beer on Tuesday and have already had 10 of them in the space of two nights. Always starts with just one, but I must have more otherwise it just feels like a waste of time. What can I do to stop this without actually stopping with drinking?

Mr Twiglet

Speaking as someody has met you, I feel that ceasing to drink would be the worst thing that could happen to you. Once that bubble of self-worth bursts, you'll have to face up to the fact that you are grotesquely unattractive and carry a distinctive farmyard odour. I recommend you increase your drinking to at least 10 drinks per night, in the hope that the beer will cover up that distinctive smell of damp cow. Also, try heroin. Lots and lots of it, all at once.

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I have an employee that works hard but always comes up with bullsh*t excuses for having days off/ coming in late.

I gave him a clean sheet when I took over as manager, but now that I’m around to the kicking his arse stage he tells my boss “I don’t like the way he spoke to me”.

True, my manager then hands his arse to him, but how can I show the employee who’s boss without him whinging to my superior.

I need your advise Aunty Dan!

Manager X Bsc, Norwich

Advice is spelt with a 'c' rather than an 's'. You can remember it with this simple learning aid.

'If you're wise, you can advise, but if you're nice, ask for advice.'

Hope that helps, doofus.

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Dear Sir

I have a problem. Let me explain...

Every time my girlfriend and I start a sexual intercourse, the only thing I can think of is the face that I will pull when I shoot my load. This is becoming problematic as I cannot enjoy the feeling of having sex to its full extent and I feel that I look stupid (the fact is I know I do, just by looking at my partners face when I do it). This is becoming so uncomfortable for me that I have to perform the ‘doggy style’ position every time I get close to climaxing – I did try a gimp mask, but I’m claustrophobic and it lead to me having a panic attack.

Can you suggest anything?

Mr Jingles - Sheringham/Norfolk

Firstly, Sheringham is in Norfolk, so you should have used a comma rather than a forward-stroke. Secondly, ditch your girlfriend immediately. Go to community centres and seek out blind or partially sighted women. This has the added bonus of them never knowing how truly replusive you are to the eye, both in and out of the sack. If you must insist upon retaining your present pumping-bag, then at least have the decency to blindfold her before, during, and for several weeks after intercourse.

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Hi Dan Dan the blog man,

I really need your help and sound advise.

I have been with my boyfriend now for 9 months and love him very much however he doesn't love me as much. When we're alone we have a good laugh but as soon as he's around his friends at work he just ignores me or takes the mickey all the time. It's really getting me down. I feel like I can't tell him cos he's got his own problems (excessive sweaty ears) but It's getting me down so much I think I might have to break up with him.

Please help,

Lonely and confused, Norwich

Hi Lonely. First of all, learn the difference between 'advise' and 'advice'. Then, meet up with Manager X Bsc and go and tell everyone how to FUCKING SPEAK ENGLISH. After that, dump your boyfriend and meet me in Honolulu. I'll be the one with the massively bulging Speedos.

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Dear Aunty Dan,

I have for years enjoyed relations with small rodents and marsupials. The problem is, I was planning a session tonight with 'Nibbles' my 2 year old Guatemalan Chinchilla but have run out of sellotape.

So my question is this: What are you having for tea?

I am having fresh four-cheese tortelloni, in a bowl, with a fork.

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So, this is Auntie Dan signing off. If any of you have any questions, please get in touch. I will be at the Queen Charlotte in Norwich later making sweet music with my excellently handsome band. Until tomorrow x.

1 comment:

bus boy said...

that is a whole two blogs in one. what value you give us today sir, value i say