Uncle Drago's agony column

[Drago]

Dear Badger,

That the fragrant Mr Aubrey is now on the scene opens up some kinky possibilities. For example, have you ever heard of a spit-roast?

 

[Dave7]

Dear Badger,

That the fragrant Mr Aubrey is now on the scene opens up some kinky possibilities. For example, have you ever heard of a spit-roast?

Yes. I used to enjoy a good spit roast but now I have false teeth I struggle a bit.
I have tried taking my teeth out but that didn't work.
Thank you again for your words of wisdom.

 

[ebikeerwidnes]

Dear Bodger

Just an idea because clearly our guide and mentor is the oracle

however, it occurred to me that if you are think of treating her to a meal you could maybe

Start with a ripe KumQuat salad

followed by a nice clam chowder or Mufulettatorfor starters

and then, depending on how many people are involved
either a Cincinatti Three Way or maybe Five Guys - or for simplicity then stick to simple Pigs in Blankets

Then finish off with a Mississippi Mud Pie or Boston Cream Pie

I am sure that will impress her

I would rethink the Reliant Robin though

 

[Dave7]

Dear uncle Drago.
I am getting depressed as people keep getting my name wrong.
It is Mr Todger.
I get called Boger or Badger etc.
What can I do about this problem.
Yours
MR TODGER.

 

[Drago]

Dear Mr Nudger,

I know what you mean. People insist on calling me Champ or Ace all the time an it can get tiresome.

 

[tyred]

Dear Uncle Drago,

I was going to visit that woman up the road and found a nice, fresh bunch of flowers in the graveyard and had bought a nice bottle of gin and a Terry's Chocolate Orange.

When I got to her house, I found a Reliant Robin parked in the driveway.

I tried to peer in the window to see what they were up to but ripped my best jacket on the rose bush. I then nearly garotted myself on the washing line before tripping on a flower pot and headbutted the window, breaking the glass and cutting my forehead. Fortunately, they didn't notice as they had a Chris Rea record on at full volume.

In a fit of madness, I rammed the Terry's Chocolate Orange up the exhaust pipe of the Reliant.

I now feel guilty and tried to coax it out again but it is completely jammed. I didn't wish to sabotage his car.

Should I go and admit I blocked his exhaust pipe? What do you think will happen when he tries to start his Reliant?

I'm sitting at the hospital now, awaiting stitches in my forehead. What should I tell them to explain the glass cuts and the red line on my neck from the clothes line? If I admit to breaking a window, they may think I'm a burglar.

Yours faithfully,
Aubrey

 

[Drago]

Dear Tie Dye,

I understand that chocolate orange is a euphemism.

In actual fact you became highly around and shoved your schlong up the tailpipe and are now stuck.

We can't find a solution until you start being honest with us.

 

[Dave7]

Dear Uncle Drago.
My ego is somewhat deflated but you will be pleased to know there are positives.
I visited that woman up the road. I did plan to take her in my Reliant Robin and have my evil way with her on the back seat (I would have wiped the oil stains off first). However, for some reason the car wouldnt start.
Anyway I walked, bloody hell this new thong cut in a bit.
Well I was surprised when she showed me some tatt that the Aubrey guy gave her.
A bottle of Russian gin 9% proof and the remains of a Terry's chocolate orange with a use by date of 2017.
At least I know how to treat a girl. I bought her a second hand pair of knickers, a bit grubby but they should scrub up OK.
Tell me.....do you think that Aubrey person has any chance against me ?
Regards
Mr Todger

 

[Drago]

Dear Flogger,

I think this Automatic guy has every chance against you. How can he not when he has a photo of your browser history?

 

[tyred]

Dear Uncle Drago,

I'm a little concerned about the direction in which my love life seems to be going.

I only seem to attract weird men into my life these days. I'm not sure why.

I seem to attract men who assault my digestive system with out-of-date Fray Bentos pies, rancid ancient chocolates and paint-stripper wines from Belarus.

Men who take me out for drives in weird, knackered old cars. One of my recent flames took me out in some huge rusty, square Japanese box and I cut myself on the rusty front wing. Then he changed it for some obscure Spanish diesel thing that idles like a Victorian spinning mill and produced more smoke than a Clyde puffer.

The other night, my other love interest wanted to take me out in one of those Del-boy things on three wheels that fall over on corners. It wouldn't start at first, and then when it did, the exhaust exploded, and woke up all my neighbours and coated my favorite cherry tree in some strange mix of soot, oil and orange chocolate. Do you think my tree will recover? My neighbours are still cross with me too.

Then there are the bizarre accidents they have, like getting impaled on my sundial (it's never worked properly since) or getting their private parts stuck up the suction tube on my Henry. I'm on first name terms with the nurses in casualty as I'm always there trying to explain how these things happen to them.

Do you think there is any chance I could find myself a normal man who doesn't give me food poisoning, need taken to casualty and has a nice modern car like one of those lovely Toyota C-HRs?

I'd also consider someone like that lovely Mr. Morse that I see on TV with his beautiful old Jaguar and wonderful taste in music and won't turn up at my house with hideous Chris Rea records and play them at full volume.

What do you think I should do?

Yours faithfully,
That woman up the road

 

[Drago]

Dear Dirty Gerty from Number 30,

Your tree should recover. Fortunately it's an orange tree so the chocolate orange will do no lasting harm other than all it's fruit now emerging wrapped in tinfoil.

You want a normal man. A snappy dresser of substance and intellect? Madam, may I recommend to you @Accy cyclist

 

[tyred]

Dear Drago,

I decided to give the woman of my desire up the road a surprise for Valentine's day and get on before that Dave, who I understand is still trying to weld the exhaust on his Reliant Robin back together. Hopefully that will keep him occupied and out of my way.

I also decided my Seat Malaga didn't present the sort of image I wanted. I needed something with a bit of style, so I traded it in for classic sports coupé - a lovely 1972 Sunbeam Rapier in brown. After all, she would surely be impressed with the pillarless design, Rostyle wheels, beige vinyl roof and overdrive gearbox. I could just picture cruising the promenade with that woman up the road reclining on the leatherette, with Des O'Connor on the 8 track stereo.

I really went to a lot of effort getting ready, running my ancient Philishave over my face, a splash of Blue Stratos, and best pin-striped suit.

I got a box of Black Magic and bunch of flowers from the Texaco garage when I was filling my Rapier up. I was feeling in such a good mood that I even treated myself Rapier to a bottle of Redex.

Can you imagine the disappointment when I got to her and found a tiny Fiat cabriolet parked in her driveway. I sneaked up to the window and peered in and there was this guy in a tweed suit and monocle sitting on her sofa, looking very cosy with his fedora on the coffee table beside the bottle of rum they were sharing.

I am shocked. What should I do to get rid of this guy and get back in with a chance again?

Yours faithfully,
Aubrey

 

[Drago]

A Sunbeam Papier Mache. Very nice!

Was the bounder very well dressed and frightfully well spoken? If so you could cause him immense annoyance by parking half on the path and half in a disabled bay.

 

[tyred]

Dear Drago,

He definitely is a very well dressed and well spoken chap.

I decided to take your advice and park on the pavement. Unfortunately, the front suspension strut pushed through the inner wing when I mounted the kerb and the car dropped on the road.

I bent down to look underneath the car and somehow got my braces snagged on the front bumper and I can't get it released.

To add insult to injury, a traffic warden turned up and gave me a ticket.

I'm worried that woman and her new fancyman will come out and see me bent over and caught up on the number with a parking ticket stuck to my back.

How can I get out of this embarrassing situation?

Yours faithfully,
Aubrey

 

[Drago]

Dear Auger,

I fear my advice may be too late to help. I understand from my sources at the Chemist (I know the lass on the soothing bum ointment counter) that you were soon to discover that not only were you trapped bent over with your bum in the air, but that you were parked in the local cottaging lay by.

The good news is that NHS 111 reckon your farts should become audible again in a month or so.