Agony 3

by Sue Simpson

Chain Border

Dear Aunt Nasty;

My husband and I are getting on a bit now, and it's not often that we, you know? Do it. The other night he got all amorous while I was washing my teeth in the sink. Anyway one thing led to another and while we were you know? Doing it, I discovered that he has a very nasty case of piles. He would never have told me of his own accord and he's too embarrassed to go to the doctors. What do you suggest?

Wife of Standing in Stanton.

My dear Mrs Standing.

This one very much depends on how good a husband he is to you. There are some very good haemorrhoid treatments available over the counter at the chemists. I can highly recommend the Preparation H and a circular cushion dear. Oh the relief is instantaneous, take it from Auntie who knows only too well. Now if he's a kind and attentive husband dearie, there you go problem solved. But; Auntie's been reading a little bit between the lines here. No, no, you tell me if I'm wrong now, but quite frankly any man who jumps you unawares when you're bent over a running tap rinsing your falsies sounds like a shady character to me. Eeh some men they see a shapely bottom bent over a sink and they become savage beasts, wild and savage beasts I tell you. Something else Auntie has been a martyr to in her time dear. So what I suggest is this:

Buy two tubes of ointment. One of good old (Auntie swears by it) Preparation H and some fiery Jack rubbing liniment for aching muscles. When you get home, take the Preparation H out of its box and put it in the Fiery Jack box, and then take the fiery jack and put it in the Preparation H box. Change the bathroom light bulb to one of a very low wattage so that he can't see so well and place both tubes in the bathroom cabinet. If he suspects anything you can say you put them in the wrong boxes by accident. I do hope you have a bidet and lots of lovely cold water love, he is going to need it.

Lots of love
Auntie xxx

~*~

Dear Aunt Nasty;

I live in student digs and don't have a lot of money. The problem is that we only have one mirror between the three of us and my flat mate keeps disappearing into his room with it for days on end. Please advise.

Bristly in Bristol.

Dear Bristly;

You have nothing to worry about my darling. Stubbly men are so very, very sexy. Next time he takes the mirror into his room, you take his girlfriend out of it. And you refuse to give her back until he returns the mirror to its rightful communal place. Tickle her gently with your facial growth and I'm sure she'll prefer to stay with you anyway. Also while he's out, open his door just a crack; place the mirror across the top of it. When he comes in the mirror will fall down and smash over his head. Seven years bad luck to contend with should curb his vanity for a while, and he can start with seven or so stitches along his immaculate hairline.

Lots of love;
Auntie xxx

~*~

Dear Aunt Nasty;

Every time we have an argument my girlfriend burns me with cigarettes. Please Help.

Blistered in Bliss;

Dear Blistered.

Give up smoking it's bad for your health.

Tut, tut; filthy habit.
Auntie (who will refrain from sending you kisses because you probably smell like a chimney dear.)

~*~

Dear Aunt Nasty;

My wife is driving me insane. Every time something goes wrong she says, "Bless my soul." I'm going nuts with it. All day long it's "Bless my Soul" this, and "Bless my Soul" that. I know you deal with serious problems all day and this must seem insignificant to you, but so help me God if it doesn't stop I'll kill the bitch. Please save my sanity.

Dispirited and soul destroyed in purgatory.

Mr poor dispirited;

Well a bless my soul a what's a wrong with me I'm itchin` … Sorry my darling Auntie will have her little joke you know.

Buy her a shoe shop next door to a church and call it "Our Soles are better than your Souls." But tell people to enunciate clearly and not to speak too fast when reading the sign love. Remember now, do not read the sign too fast.

Lots of love
Auntie xxx

~*~

Dear Aunt Nasty;

Which position would you recommend for becoming pregnant?

Yours Broody in Battery.

Dear Broody;

High court governor would be nice.

Lots of love Aunty xxx

~*~

Dear Aunt Nasty;

I am sick to death of my boyfriend. These days all he ever wants to do is watch sports on the tele. We still have a healthy sex life though, he fits me in somewhere between his programs, or sometimes we have a quickie on the settee in the adverts. The only time I feel that he loves me is when we make love. What can I do?

Bored in the racing pits of hell.

Bored my love;

You would not believe how many letters I get that are similar in content to this. And I have to tell you it makes Auntie very cross, yes it does. Treating lovely girls such as yourself in this way. The solution is simple dear. You give him the works. The whole womanly whiles nine yards. First take the fuse out of the television. Then you soak in a long, hot, soapy bath before he gets in from work. Wear your nicest perfume and sexiest underwear and one of those lovely little silk dressing gowns, go on charge one to his account. Have massage oils and love toys by the side of the bed ready and then while he's getting himself all flustered looking for a fuse you seduce him darling. Strip alluringly out of the dressing gown and let it fall in a heap around your ankles. If it wasn't for this lumbago Auntie would come and show you how dear but it's the damp weather you now, sets it off something chronic. And then you drive him into a frenzy girl, yes a positive frenzy of mad lust. His mercury will be up and boiling before you know it. Make love to him like you never have before. Stroke him, and kiss him and massage him with the oils. Play with him and tease him until he can't take any more. (Oh my is it hot in here or am I having one of my flushes?) And then just when he's about to pop his darling little wrestling boots, climb off and ask him what his opinion is of the Alma/ Linda/ Mike love triangle in Corrie. Tell him that Jack's heifer's have got the foot and mouth in Emmerdale. Ask him if he knows that The 'Time of our Lives' team are going to stop using models from the waxworks instead of actors, and are hiring trained chimps instead. That Jackie Dixon is giving Max Farnham one in Brookside (which lets face it is more than he's going to get) or that Dreary Deirdre's neck tendons have stretched another two centimetres. You might want to make sure your needs are attended to before you flick the cut-off button, we don't want you going hungry now do we? Repeat this process as many times as necessary until you get your point across. He will soon realise the Derby is a horses arse.

Lots of two/ love, game, set and match, from Auntie xxx

~*~

And now dear readers Auntie has something very upsetting to tell you. I have had a letter of complaint. Can you believe that? No of course you can't. I swear I never slept a wink last night for the worry of it. Tossed and turned all night I did. I've had a letter from a very disgruntled gentleman. It seems that Auntie told his good lady wife to go off to live in Jamaica with a very nice coloured gentleman of quite staggering proportions. The other nice gentleman of more modest means is now left at home with his four motherless children. He is demanding an apology bless him. We know what we can say to this grieving gentleman don't we readers? We can say:

My Dear Mr. Disgruntled I'm so sorry you are a dickless wonder… Now Fuck Off!

~*~

And what have we got lined up for you next time? Actually sod all except the strange case of a cat that keeps hawking fur balls in its mistress's lap and a little boy who won't stop swearing. Auntie might just pay a visit to that particular young gentleman. Could it be that people are starting to doubt the wisdom of Auntie's words? Surely not. Come on now lets have those letters rolling in. Ask and ye shall receive.

Now I know where this has all come from and its most distressing. I had to sit my dear nephew Neville on the floor with a brown paper bag, he was so upset when he heard what has been said. Auntie had not been on the cheap vodka again last week at my drop in centre. I was merely coming to terms with a new pair of shoes that are giving me corns some gyp. Now this has got to stop, I know where it's coming from Timothy, Fiona, Andy, Marcus (I'd never have believed it of you Marcus, never sniff). Name and shame I say. Name and shame. Cheap vodka indeed I never heard such a thing.

So until next time remember Auntie's motto
DO UNTO OTHERS ONLY DO IT TO THEM FIRST.

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