Unqualified advice for the lovelorn, the lonely-hearted and the terminally stupid


Dear Wendy,

I keep having this dream where I am followed around by a hooded man carrying a scythe with my name on it who persistently tries to sell me insurance - what could this mean?
Rita Dume, Bexhill.


Dear Rita,

Mr. Freud would no doubt have given you a long, boring, intellectual interpretation of this dream, where the man (your father) carrying the scythe (clearly a penis), who is trying to sell you insurance (your mother), was wearing a hood because of a long-term skin condition which makes people think he is Spanish, when he is in fact from Hartlepool. Sigmund Freud had his own issues, which is why, as a committed disciple of Jung, I have long since lost patience with the cocaine-addled psychologist's potty-mouthed infatuations. If you ask me, the cause of your dream is perfectly obvious - cheese just before bed. 



Dear Wendy,

I have noticed recently that most TV programmes broadcast after 2am are accompanied by a signer. My question is this; why do deaf people stay up so late? Mortimer Clam, Herzmonceaux.


Dear Mortimer,

no-one knows for certain, but my guess is that they have eaten a lot of cheese, and are trying to avoid sleep, for fear of recurring nightmares like Mrs Dume's.



Dear Wendy,

I recently bought a fondue set in error, mistaking it for a yoghurt maker. Should I put it in the attic with the pyramid razor sharpener and the Justin Bieber singing toothbrush? Or would I be better off putting it on Ebay?

Befuddled, Uckfield


Dear Befuddled,

instead of taking the obvious route, I would urge you to fly in the face of convention. Have a spontaneous weekend in the Ukraine, make a Panamanian flag out of Monopoly money, or sort out those old jockey photos in the cellar before the police find them. Remember, life is a glorious, swirling whirlpool of excess and one dipped toe can easily lead to another. Fondue sets are making a big comeback by the way, and one recently fetched over £10,000 at auction.


Dear Wendy,

I recently received an invitation to be best man at a cousin's wedding, but due to a badly adjusted bicycle saddle I am suffering from extremely swollen testicles. The left one is roughly twice its normal size, but the right one has assumed gargantuan proportions, and now resembles a huge mis-shapen celeriac. I feel that wearing enormous trousers would give the game away. Do you have any suggestions?

Cuthbert Bisquit
, Axlotl, Sussex


(As I keep saying to all my patients, I am not a real doctor, but here goes)
Dear Cuthbert,

Don't panic. Put your testiculos gigantes in a wheelbarrow and tell everyone you've gone organic. Should curious wedding guests attempt to squeeze your produce, say you are a government GM scientist and make a noise like a chicken.



Dear Wendy,

I seem to have put on an awful lot of weight during the Covid restrictions, and I am increasingly concerned that a no-deal departure from the EU is going to leave me beached, like an abandoned one-man submarine. Do you have any dietary advice?

Tallulah Bunkbed, Lilliput.


Dear Tallulah,

first the good news. Virtually all fattening food will be unavailable after a no-deal Brexit, and unless you are a hedge fund manager, dieting will simply be a matter of course, about which you have no choice.Try this daily menu for a new slimmed-down 2021, which I guarantee will turn you into a svelte, sylph-like silhouette, able to slip silently into any room even when the door is barely ajar.


Breakfast: 200gs Marmite (no toast).

Lunch: Small Potatoes drizzled with nothing at all.

Tea: Hard cheese.

Dinner: Austere fry of roadkill squirrel with roasted acorns and shaved lard.



Dear Wendy,
my husband  is terribly grumpy in the morning when he is putting his clothes on. It is driving me frantic, and if I had any wit left, I would be at the end of it.


Confused, Upper Dicker


Dear Confused,
despite what your friends tell you, cross dressing is far more common than you think, and does not necessarily mean that your husband is a vile humourless slug whose sole purpose in life is to make your existence intolerable. However, a small proportion of husbands, due usually to some early childhood trauma, find the simple act of donning a shirt or a pair of trousers too much to bear, and lash out accordingly. I would refer you to my pamphlet:-Trousers Without Tears, in particular, the chapter entitled Cheer Up, It’s Only a Shoe.


Dear Wendy,

I don’t really know where to start, but I think my husband is a secret pantomime horse, only the front end mind you, nothing perverted. Its just that I don’t know where to turn. Is there an organisation I can get in touch with? I’m at my wits’ end.

Yours worriedly,


Doulally, Kent


Dear Worried, you do not go into the reason for your suspicions, but if my experience is anything to go by, I suspect you’ve probably stumbled across a pantomime horse costume (front end) stashed away somewhere, possibly amongst his collection of  World War II gasmasks, am I right? Just a guess. Anyway worried, I suggest you write to:-, Dame Vera Balconi, Pantomime Horses Anonymous c/o the address I sent you. They have produced a very informative leaflet, Living with Pantophilia, which they will be only too happy to send you. Meanwhile, pull back from the end of your wits, or you may overturn!



Dear Wendy,

am I alone in thinking that barbers are not what they used to be? My late husband Frank went completely bald at the age of 23, but thankfully his father had instilled some old fashioned discipline in him, and he would visit the barber every other Thursday whether he needed to or not. He would eventually come home, (although not always, but I won't go into that), with a highly polished, sweet-smelling scalp, some new blades for his razor and a pocketful of condoms - all for the price of 7/6d (£235.47 in today’s money!), I ask you, where can you get value like that these days? Hopefully, when we have left the common market and get our old money back, things will begin to return to normal.

Mrs H.Geurnica, Beyondenden


Dear Mrs Guernica

Those certainly were the days! I remember Mr. Concubine, my dear old father’s barber who not only cut hair and shaved chins but also sold tea towels featuring the Turin Shroud, conjurer’s rabbits, delicious pies, Vatican souvenir nail-scissors, West End theatre tickets and hand guns.



Dear Wendy,

although I am neither lovelorn nor lonely hearted, I feel confident that you can offer me some solice. My dilemma is this: I recently bumped into a very nice chap in my local pub, The Crown and Anarchist, who told me he was an experienced investment broker and hedge fund manager. He tried to persuade me to put my entire life savings of £100,000 into something called cocoa futures. Naturally I agreed, but was unfortunately too embarrassed to ask what cocoa futures actually were. If you could see your way to giving me, in layman’s terms,  a brief rundown on cocoa futures, I would be happy to cut you in on any profits. Also, on another matter entirely; which loudspeakers would you recommend for my hi-fi system? I have a Qanon 404 triple tube vacuum-enclosed amplifier fronting a  Barnes & Wallace ergonomic gas-powered turntable with a 125 gram Radclffe suspended platinum and brass cartridge fitted with a sustainably sourced gluten-free stylus. I enjoy dixieland jazz and recordings of iconic railway steam engines.

Cuthbert Antrobus, Battle.


Dear Cuthbert,

whilst not claiming to be a financial expert, I can tell you that cocoa futures are a fool-proof way of making pots of money without even lifting a finger.
Let me explain. Simply taking a bull-spread binary option whilst hedging anonymity on any stop-loss protection tranches is all very well as long as the stock proves to be a potential multi-bagger, which may attract bears.
My advice is to buy up an offer on a margin, and then purchase a 4-call option to provide additional leverage on the unit trusts. All long-term Equity Anticipation Securities will expire immediately you apply, providing you short your put-options before the ex-dividend date.

I hope I have cleared that up.
Regarding your additional Hi-Fi question, I have no hesitation in pointing you towards a pair of Pooter & Wynne HF42 concrete-based Croissants with diametrically opposed thumb tweeters, mid-range hooters and diamond encrusted low frequency waterproof crossovers. At £31,950 each (stands extra), they are a snip. Steam railway engines will sound more iconic than you ever thought possibe.



Dear Wendy,

My fiancée has invited me  on a Caribbean cruise but I suffer terribly from sea-sickness. Is there a sure-fire preventative measure I could take to avoid the agony and embarrassment of Mal de Mer?

(name and address withheld)


Dear (name and address withheld), 
In my experience, ocean cruises are often frought with anxieties, such as fear of food-poisoning, constant exposure to low-grade entertainment or falling overboard. As for fiancées, mine ran off with the bongo player of a samba band during a stop-off in Havana, so perhaps seasickness may prove to be the least of your problems! As far as I am aware however, the best method of avoiding it is to sit under a tree.