Anarchy Aunt with Hairy Jim If you haven't already got a problem, you soon will have...
Dear Hairy Jim,
I am in less of a quandary, more indecision. Is it normal to enjoy the smell of your own excrement? Mine has a slightly sweet yet pungent odour to it. Several times I have been drawn to eat it. Am I becoming a coprophiliac? Is it illegal? Is it immoral? Can I have a glove puppet (as advertised) of Lucie Morris, so these calluses on my hands don’t get bigger every time I wank?
Conventional microwave ovens do not function correctly with the door open. An inventive way round this would be to smash the glass out of the closed door while wearing a glove puppet. I prescribe that you follow the above instructions and nuke your head, you Morris loving shitgoose.
Love you, Hairy Jim
Dear Hairy Jim,
I was reading Salmon Rushdie’s Satanic Versions of Life whilst munching on a beef jerky that I had specially imported from South Shields, when I found that… this book was a work of genius, it has captured my heart, but I still felt the need to slag off the hobbit people was below the belt. “This is not mahogany you asshole” was one quote attributed to Frodo Baggins. Whereas a new form of strange wizard quoted “Cheese Pie!” With reflection I’ve decided this book is shit, what is the point of writing about the unneeded stuff when you can write to your mama.
Yours, Gandalf the Badger
Dear “Gandalf the Badger”,
Mackerel is NOT made of gluten, nor is beef jerky. 10 Hail Marys, and half a dozen dubious experiences with the bishop.
Dear Hairy Jim,
I suffer from the Trots. Every Saturday morning I go down to Gentlemans walk and get a load of verbal diarrhoea. That is why we need a revolutionary party, join the party, I am a Dalek. Exterminate, exterminate.
Dear Anon,
I have great sympathy with your problems. It is not unusual for a buy of your age to suffer from the Trots, so you are not alone in your suffering. There is a little known solution, pioneered by a Stalinist – perhaps the only good idea one has had. You will need: an ice pick, a medium to large sized can of elbow grease and a paper selling member of the Central Committee’s head. Connect ice pick to head with elbow grease, et voila, problem solved. You win a glove puppet.
Hairy Jim would like to apologise to his troubled disciples who wanted Pauline Quirke glove puppets. This was an error, Victoria Wood glove puppets were actually on offer instead.
