What's your new year's resolution?

Dear Angry Agony Aunt,
Do you have a new year’s resolution this year?

Let me tell you something.  New Years resolutions are for unhealthy, chain smoking, alcoholic, drug addicts with no money and no spine.  Sometimes they’re called Stan, but not all the time.  These ‘Stan’s’ swear that, ‘I’m going to turn my life around and make a long list of promises’, blah, blah.  But this is useless ‘my mouth is moving but nothing important is being said’ talk.

Why?  Because 12 – 24 hours in to the new year (crunch time), like a kid with a shiny toy, temptation lands in their lap and they get distracted.  And before you can say, ‘Dude, let’s steal the neighbour’s car’, they’ve got a cigarette in one hand, a beer in the other, telling their Nanna to ‘get f&cked’, as they’re hot wiring her car.   Old habits die hard.

But if you’re not a ‘Stan’ and you actually want to succeed in life, I suggest you try what I call a ‘Reverse Resolution’.  Write down all the things you achieved in 2011.  Believe it or not, we all have something to be proud of.  And if you’re actually nice to yourself, hopefully you'll continue to be nice to yourself in the upcoming year.

For example: Did you manage to finally have sex?  (Thumbs up Fernando)  Did you stop calling your mother a dirty, old, cranky whore? (I know it was hard Maryanne, but kudos to you) How about your finances?  Are you able to answer ‘private number’ calls again?  I bet if you're sober, even just for five minutes, you’d be able to name at least five good things that happened during the year.  What did you learn about yourself?  What did you learn about other people?

Having done my own Reverse Resolution, I've ruled that I'm happy to continue drinking litres of cheap wine followed by bacon chasers, smoking two cigarettes at a time, maxing out my credit cards and dating guys called ‘Stan’.  Why?  Because if I didn’t, l wouldn’t have anything to be angry about anymore... 

Happy New Year to everyone.  Except Stan.  You can rot in hell.  But not before living a long and painful life full of guilt and regret.

What makes the perfect pair of breasts?

Dear Angry Agony Aunt,
What makes the perfect pair of breasts?

The most obvious answer is – any pair of breasts without your grubby hands all over them is a perfect pair of breasts.  But that’s a cheap shot and I don’t do that here. 

For some guys, any pair of living breasts within eye shot is a perfect pair.  Men part with real cash dollars to get a peek, some pay a lot, others just have to say ‘let me buy you a drink’ and there they are, all in your face.  But nonetheless, the sight of boobs is a tradeable commodity.

And you guys can bitch and moan about what makes a perfect pair, but when you’re talking about these eye magnets, there’s not a complaint in sight.

But what makes a perfect pair?  Hmmm.  I hate to break it to you, but you’ve already seen them.  And unfortunately for you, if all’s well in your life, you’ll never see them again.  The most perfect pair of breasts is the first pair you ever saw.  Yo Mumma’s.

Yo Mumma’s were perfect because they weren’t only huge after you were born, but they were full of milky goodness, full all of the vitamins and minerals you needed to survive.  And that’s what you’re looking for in a perfect pair; looks and functionality. 

And before you scoff and say ‘I was bottle-fed’, I guarantee that at least once in your little poohey nappy existence, you went for the grab.  That’s right, you grabbed your own Mumma’s tits.  And not only that, you would’ve gone in for the suck and cried when she pushed you away said no. 

So next time you see a pair of breasts that aren’t quite perfect, don’t say ‘send them back’, just smile and thank god they’re not your mother’s.  And after reading this, I hope the next time you see your girlfriend’s set, you think of your mother’s big, bad, heaving knockers you once cried over. 

Why are you smiling in the photo?

Dear Angry Agony Aunt,
I am a new liker to your page. I have a question. You are The Angry Agony Aunt. However, in your picture, your lips appear to be slightly upturned in somewhat of a grin/smile. My question is Why? This grin/smile does not appropriately appear to reflect the Anger part of your title..."

This is the best question I’ve ever received.  If there’s one subject I know better than any other, it's the subject of my failings as a human being.  My Facebook profile photo is a living example of my confusing and contradictory life.

When I first started my blog, I thought it’d be a great idea to have an Angry Agony Aunt logo.  After I spent all my disposable income on advertising, I only got a few Facebook ‘likes’ and one guy asking for an ‘Angry Aunty’ to spank him while his wife was away on business.  I immediately ditched the logo and replaced it with a ‘help’ sign.  This sign confused readers and they started unsubscribing in droves.  I was staring down the face of the first Facebook page in history with negative ‘likes’. 

Then someone suggested I upload an angry photo of myself.  I begrudgingly took 50 shots and passed them around my 'friends' for feedback.  Nasty comments included:

- ‘you look like you’re about to pass a bowling ball’, 

- ‘you look so crazy, I’m afraid you’ll shoulder charge me through a glass window' and 

- ‘how did you get your double chin to do that?’

After this brutal assessment of my looks, I wiped away the tears and cleaned up the broken glass from the window.  Then, a couple of days later, inspiration came.   

I had an argument with my current boyfriend about something I don't remember.  But after that argument, I made a very angry breakup video.  (I’ve kept it just in case of emergency).  In a gentle and loving voice I say, ‘hey baby, I just thought I’d send you a message… you’re a sad and pathetic wannabe.  You’re on track to die a lonely and poor middle-aged bald man.  Don’t ever ring me again and for god sake, wear a nappy when you go to bed.’ 

So the photo you see today is a screen shot from that video.  Sure, it may look like I’m all love and smiles but this is me at my passive aggressive best.  The lesson here?  ‘Angry’ comes in all different shapes and psychotic sizes.

Should I drink it?

Like, hi Agony Aunt.  I’m at the pub at the moment with my gurlz and we’re having an awesome night.  A couple just left and they left a full glass of untouched champagne on the table.  I don’t really want to see it go to waste, should I drink it?  If you can hurry up with the answer, that’d be totally awesome.  I don’t really want to have to go to the bar because there’s a line and my heels are killing me.  Ta. You’re the best.

How dare that couple leave a full glass of alcohol in front of you?  What’s even worse is that they probably bought it during happy hour and you’re now on regular prices.  Bastards.  Some people just don’t know how to behave in pubs.

Don’t they know they should’ve skulled the drink before stumbling out the door?  I bet they were dressed like normal people as well.  No fake tan, no bunny ears and tea towels around their hips masquerading as miniskirts.  They would’ve bought shame to the pub by being polite, quiet and respectful.  The nerve of these people.  I don’t know why they were at a pub and not a retirement home. 

But I know you’re in a hurry for an answer, so here it is.  No, you don’t drink the full glass of bubbly delight.  I don’t care how much it’s taunting you.  Why?  Because you never drink a stranger’s drink ever.  At all, ever.  I mean ever.  Unless of course, the drink is some kind of magical potion that nourishes your brain with brain cells, then I say, drink it up baby. 

Have a question?  Send it to angryauntis@gmail.com

PS - And no, *sigh* champagne isn’t a magical potion that nourishes your brain with brain cells.  Your best friend Tiffany might tell you it is, but it’s not. 

Exclusive Angry Aunt Article: Taking It To Task

Dear All,

This article is exclusive to the Angry Agony Aunt readers.  If this idea actually pays off, it could mean the end to face-to-face interaction in the workplace.  … Ahhh, what a wonderful day that would be! 

TAKING IT TO TASK

Two names you may not know.  Dustin Moskovitz and Justin Rosenstein.  These fellas may not be as recognisable as their mate, Mark Zuckerberg but that doesn’t make them any less culpable for the screaming birth of Facebook.

In the early days, Dustin bunked at Harvard with Zuckerberg and earned a cool billion for his trouble.  A couple of years later, Justin hightailed it to Facebook an earned himself enough money to add the occupation ‘millionaire’ to his CV.  But before you could say, ‘Dude, where’s my chequebook’, Facebook, has turned into, like, old news.  The new news is a little web site called ‘Asana’.  But us cool kids call it ‘Work Book’.

Asana [WorkBook] is touted as a ‘modern web application that keeps teams in sync, a shared task list where everyone can capture, organize, track and communicate what they are working on in service of their common goal’.  Work can be shared, allocated and managed.  In plain English, Asana is an online to-do list, where everyone in your team can see your business.  And just as war sorts the men from the boys, Asana (a Sanskrit word meaning ‘yoga pose’) has the potential to sort the warriors from the downward facing dogs and the cobras from the one-legged pigeons.  This Asana thingie, is a warning shot that will terrify lazy middle managers.

And that’s all good and well for now, but the fatal shot won’t come until the techies in Palo Alto find a way to marry two brilliant ideas together; a glorious day when a code is invented for a mega web site that smashes the first rule of corporate principals - mixing business with pleasure.  And we have a suggested faux beta-testing name for it.  WorkMoodBook.  http://www.workmoodbook.com/

WorkMoodBook would be an online page where all the details of your work and co-workers can be brought together in one screen grab.  In the centre of the page is you, and around you are squiggly lines linking you with your teammates, managers, subordinates and clients.  These lines will then have offshoots linked with projects, tasks and if used correctly, outdated to-do lists.

WorkMoodBook will be exactly that.  A page culminating your work, your moods about your work and your mood about the morons you work with.  And for now, here are some helpful suggestions for Dustin and Justin to consider when they get bored with Asana.

The WorkMoodBook ‘LikeMoodStar’

Everyone loves getting a star.  A LikeMoodStar is where you give a working relationships a malleable grading.  For example, if your boss gives you a sliver of a compliment, you could give them one ‘LikeMoodStar’.  Then with enough ‘LikeMoodStars’, your boss could graduate to an elevated ‘LikeMoodGrade’.  Conversely, if your boss is an ugly piece of work and constantly blames you for their own incompetence, you can rescind their ‘LikeMoodStatus’ and demote them.

The ‘Star-Of-The-Day’ and ‘Douche-Of-The-Day’ Button

Star-Of-The-Day could be awarded to the aggressive bus driver who go you to work on time or to the Admin Assistant who washed your manky coffee cup.  With enough Star-Of-The-Day awards, you could earn internet cash that could only be spent on WorkMoodBook associated games to buy things that don’t exist (see Farmville and Cityville).

Equally, the Douche-Of-The-Day award, could be awarded to, well, obviously, the douche of the day.  With enough ‘Douch-Of-The-Day Awards’ you would be temporarily suspended from your WorkMoodBook account for thirty days.  Unfortunately the thirty day lock-out won't apply to real life but without access to your WorkMoodBook, you'll be flying blind and won't have a clue as to what's going on between computers.  Then after your WorkMoodBook ban has been lifted, you'll be welcomed back.  But not before you spend a further thirty days on a 'learner' login learning etiquette all again.  When you pass that test, you're full profile will be reinstated.

Relationship Charting Feature

We all love being judged.  The 'Relationship Charting Feature' is the best way to formalise this process.  For example, this tool will come in handy at annual performance reviews.  When it's time, the chart can be be neatly printed on an A4 sheet or exported to a Powerpoint Presentation.  Then you and your boss can chinwag about the factual line graph of your feelings about each other and how the year played out.  Day by delicious day.

However, relationship charting won’t be limited to you and your boss.  You could also rate your staff in friendliness and efficiency.  Everyone will have an opportunity to be graded out of ten for every task they carry out.  Admitially, this will cause passive aggressive encounters in the kitchen when you’ve given your co-worker four out of ten when they clearly wanted no less than an eight but can you imagine the fun of the relationship charting feature!

Client Tracking

Your customers would also benefit from your WorkMoodBook page.  For example, they can upload their order direct to your profile and failing the death of the internet, they can log in at any time to check the progress of their order.  They'd be able to read the tasks involved in creating their order, read internal communication on dedicated messageboards and even be able to instant message to Barry in the Warehouse to check the delivery time.  Sure, for some users like Barry will never understand instant messaging (because he mistakes the 'ding' of instant messaging with the 'ding' of the microwave) but at least the customer can try.

MoodNewsFeeds

A MoodNewsFeed is a great way for your co-workers and subordinates to ‘get the message’ about everyone in the team.  For example, if you can see that Steve and Gary from Sales have listed ‘hangover’ as their mood, you can deduce the sales meeting probably went a bit longer and a bit harder than originally planned.  Also, if Penny updates, ‘morning sickness’ as her mood, you can further deduce that either Steve or Gary has some explaining to do.

MoodProfileFace

Instead of having a profile photo of your ugly face in the middle of your page, your profile photo would be replaced by a coloured ‘mood face’.  Even though there are technically two real ‘moods’ in life - good and bad, WorkMoodBook will have a hundred or so to chose from.  A ‘merger’ mood could be available for when you have too many feelings to categorise.  This ‘merger mood’ could only be used three times a year, but if you're female, you'll be able to have this available to you once a month.

MoodStatusUpdates

This will surely be the crowning glory of WorkMoodBook.  At any point in time you can log in and check the mood of your boss.  For example, if your boss has updated, ‘Cathy was 30 minutes late today’, and you’re Cathy, it may not be the best time to ask for a pay rise.  It may be better to wait for your boss to update ‘Tim didn’t meet deadline’.

But even after all these sparkling suggestions, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.  We can’t walk before we can crawl.  WorkMoodBook hasn't happened yet.  Before it does, we have to let Dustin and Justin tinker with their little Asana project first.  We have to give them an opportunity to give us an opportunity to remember (forget) another logon and password.  We also have to give it time for our co-workers to suitably irritate us with the phrase ‘Asana me’.

It'll only be in a couple of years time when you stop caring about the Asana web page, you may just receive a little email inviting you to joining the WorkMoodBook community.  This will then be followed up by a trip to the movies to see the dramatized sequel to ‘The Social Network’ called ‘Taking It To Task: The Dustin and Justin Story’.  That’s right, you heard it here first.  Spread the word.

* The above suggestions are just the tip of the iceberg.  If you have a good (or ridiculous) suggestion for WorkMoodBook, send it to angryauntis@gmail.com.  You don't get any money for it but if the idea takes off, I'll let Dustin and Justin know where the ideas came from.

What language do they speak in Cityville?

Dear Angry Agony Aunt,

I speak English in several languages, New Zealand, Australian, American, South African, Canadian and English English... but no other weird languages.  On Facebook I love playing Cityville, I was going through my friends, and noticed well over half my "friends" or “Cityville Neighbours" don't speak English, is this normal?

Pigeon English Speaker

For those readers who don’t know what Cityville is, let me explain.

Cityville is an on-line time wasting game where you run your own virtual city.  You can build ice-cream shops, retail stores, houses, stadiums and a combined restaurant/bar [I’ve called mine, ‘The Chew and Spew’].  You can grow and harvest crops, decorate your parks and watch your population grow.  In return, you earn city coins, experience and virtual cash [that can only be spent on the towns infrastructure]. 

Sound fun right?  Sure.  What’s not fun about planning your life around when your crops will be ready to harvest?  Sure, fun with a capital BORING.  But before you know it, the more you accomplish, the more you get and the more you get, the more you want to accomplish.  That means it turns into an addiction.  And for it to be a good addiction, it needs to cost you money.  I'll explain. 

After you’ve built a few small houses, bread shops and community buildings, you're bribed with non-existent 'stuff' to suck more people in.  Cityville calls these people 'neighbours'.  Neighbours help you acquire exclusive 'non-existent stuff' and your neighbours are encouraged to send you 'free gifts'.  Why?  Because to get your non-existent gift, you have to go and play the game.  Again.  With neighbours like those, who needs enemies... 

And this is where the scam hits it strides.  If you want to turn your crummy town in to a hoity-toity city with skyscrapers and fancy pants doggie day-cares, you either need a lot of neighbours or you need to spend REAL money.  Yes, REAL bona-fide cash dollars you sweated to get at the REAL job you have.

And the clincher?  20 million people like this scam.  Sure, it's been tarted up with a few cute looking icons, tinkling introduction music and annoying dinging sounds when you do something in the town, but it's a scam nonetheless. 

But look, good on them.  If the Cityville creators can find 20 million bored people with an addictive personality and a credit card from Abu Dhabi to Zambia to Lesbos [see a previous Agony Aunt], then they deserve the money.  And this leads me to my answer.  It doesn’t matter where you are in the world or if you speak English, Mandarin, Spanish, Hindustani or Russian.  In Cityville, the only language that matters is the language of money.

Does he still love me?

Dear Angry Agony Aunt,

My boyfriend went away for a couple of days and said he'd call but he didn't.  I told him I was disappointed because he said he'd do something and didn’t do it.  I also worry that he's falling out of love with me.  I want him to WANT to call me.  Does he still love me?

Oh please.  I go away for a holiday and come back to this rubbish.  Another chick banging on about how [wha-wha], her boyfriend doesn’t do something for her.  [Wha-wha.]  And in case you can’t read between the brackets, wha-wha.  Yes, my holiday was good.  We had a nice time.

I don’t blame your boyfriend from wanting to have a couple of days away from you.  You sound like an egocentric froufrou.  Good on him for managing to finally rip your velcro body off his - even if it's just for a couple of days.  I can just imagine him quietly sitting in a dark corner, rocking himself to peace.  He’d marvel in the sound of silence then lose himself in the comfort of darkness.  This for him, would be a cuddle of pure and magical nothingness.  Why is it magical?  Well, because...

On the other side of town is you.  Sweating over a telephone, jumping on it as soon as it made a noise.  Then sometimes, the phone would actually beep, but it would only be because the phone battery was running low.  Even your phone hates you so much it wants to die.

So the only thing I can say to you is that you need to give yourself a hard look in the mirror and try not to break it.  Sure, you may look good in a pair of jeans and a tank top, but no amount of hairspray and mineral blush can mask the ugliness of your neediness.  So step one is to calm down.  Step two. Repeat.

Then when you've exhausted step two to a stage where you're just at a normal hyperventilating, neurotic psychopath, step three is to just be glad you have a boyfriend.  There are many people in the world who don't have something to walk all over.  Oh wait a second - I’m thinking of epoxy floors.

Send Aunty a question - angryauntis@gmail.com

Why won't you answer my question?

Due to the amount of questions I receive, verses the angry time I have available for you ungrateful bastards, here are a few that only require a swift kick up the pants.
Note : If you're question isn't here, you know I'm working through my rage to get it posted ASAP. 

Dear Angry Agony Aunt,

How many menstrual days does Justin Bieber have?

I’m not sure how many Justin has, but his hair is on the standard 28 day cycle.  Every couple of days a month, poor Justin knows that when he’s having a bad hair day, he just has to accept it, give in to it’s outrageous and unreasonable demands and know that no amount of styling will settle it down.

Dear Angry Agony Aunt,

How do I get my mum to wear her hearing aid?

Tell her she’ll get sun cancer.  Oh wait a second, I’m thinking of a hat. 

Dear Angry Agony Aunt,

Why don’t chocolate fish swim?

But they do.  Add some chocolate fish and milk in a blender and what your babies swim.  

Dear Angry Agony Aunt,

Should I be re-reading my Facebook updates before I update them?

Yes.  It’s the internet equivalent of checking your fly is zipped up. It’s funny how one little thing like checking details can ruin your life.  Especially when you’re applying for a job.

Dear Angry Agony Aunt,

Why don’t menstrual cycles have wheels?

Because you’re ugly and I believe in cheap shots.

Dear Angry Agony Aunt

Are you ever happy?

Your Mum

If by happy you mean am I unemployed, ugly, broke, living at home and have a blog that no-one reads?  Then yes, I’m very happy.  Stop knocking on my door.

Dear Angry Agony Aunt,

Wanna make $4000/month working from home? If so, my suggestion to anyone is to sign on and participate in this program. You will be pleasantly surprised, as I was. You will be truly excited about the potential of success with this business.

Can I earn $4,000 a month working from somewhere else other than my home?  My mother keeps bugging me.

Dear Angry Agony Aunt,

I text heaps of people - Why don't they text back?

Because they don’t like you.  But don’t start crying yet.  There’s one sure fire way to get even your arch enemy to text you back - all in under 160 characters.  Try sending this to everyone in your phone… “Hi, the first person to text me back will get a dollar.”  Then wait for your phone to tinkle off the hook.  However, if you find no-one text’s you back, increase your next message by another dollar, then another until you get a response.  Who says you can’t put a dollar value on friendship?

Should they have wished me a 'Happy Birthday'?

Dear Angry Agony Aunt,

It was my birthday yesterday and a friend took me out to lunch.  While we were in the line paying, my friend mentioned to the man behind us that it was my birthday.  The man responded with ‘Well, [pause] that’s nice.’  … We were shocked.  Do you think their response should have been ‘Happy Birthday’?  Isn’t it just polite?

What’s not polite are people like you fishing for compliments from a stranger. You’re skating very close to the line of narcissistic and terminally ugly.  Come to think of it, I doubt you even have a friend.  You sound lonely and desperate and are in need of a good metaphorical and physical slap across the face*. 

But having said that, you’re somewhat right about your question.  To a degree, it’s ‘nice’ of people to wish you a happy birthday when prompted.  But it’s not a required reply.  Let me give you an example. 

When a fireman asks you where the fire is, you say, ‘over there’ [and point to where the fire is].  You don’t say, ‘In my pants’ and wait for the laughs.  No.  Why?  Because a fireman can bench press 200kg and will most likely be carrying a heavy fire hose or axe in his hand.  Plus, in this example, there'd be an actual fire somewhere, that’s not in your pants...  So, responding swiftly and correctly is a required reply.

But for the rest of life, there are things called optional reply's.  Example.  Your child wants to know where baby’s come from.  The correct answer is - when Daddy’s penis goes in to Mummy’s vagina [this is a newsflash for some readers].  But this kind of question is met with a plethora of optional reply's.  Anything ranging from the birds and bees to the intimacies of love and marriage.  So why is this answer optional?  Because let’s face it, your child is just going end up learning about sex education from their friends anyway and as soon as a parent says penis, vagina, boobies and butt, everyone feels uncomfortable.

So now you know the difference between required and optional reply's, I’m going to test you to see if you've been paying attention. 

My reply is 'Get a life'.  Now, is that required or optional?

*Angry Aunt doesn’t condone physical violence.  All violence must only be administered by a qualified boxer or well known wrestler from WWE.

Should I respond to the email?

Dear Angry Agony Aunt,

I received a promotional press release and was stunned by the first sentence. 

Due to my PA being on stress and mental health leave last week, it seems that the wrong date has been forwarded regarding my clothing launch.  Please note the following correct details…

That poor secretary.  Should I respond?

Of course you should respond.  It’s your civic duty.  It’s the literary equivalent of standing by and watching bank robbery and not doing anything about it.  Send this moron a delicious and fiery response.  Here’s something to get you started.

Dear [insert your name here]

Thank you for your generic and rather clinical email.  Let me start by saying I hope this email sees you well.  And by well, I mean, I hope you’re stuck in a vat full of putrid prawn heads on a hot day.

So you’re secretary is on stress and mental health leave?  There’s a reason for that.  You’re a terrible designer, you wear too much make-up and your old lady moustache is showing.   

The first rule of ‘Being Boss 101’ is to never publicly ‘rubbish’ a secretary.  But in particular, never publicly rubbish your own secretary.  Why?  Because everyone at one stage has either, been a secretary, known a secretary or taken a secretary out for a drink and asked for a bit of dictation.  This means that every single person is affected by what you said. And regardless if it’s true or not, never, ever, ever, tell people that your right hand has gone to the funny farm.  So on behalf of all secretaries, I submit the following.

I hope the stitching in your new polyester/lyrca Autumn collection frays and unravels with only one tug.  I hope the fashion reviewers from News Limited describe your range as ‘A must have in coffin wear’.  I hope the distributors refuse to transport your shapeless sack bags because of their high flammability content.

But more than anything, I hope your launch is a great success.  I hope it's attended by wall-to-wall secretaries drinking your cheap wine, eating your crappy canapes and giving you a good long hard file.

Can you suggest any good bands?

Dear Angry Agony Aunt,

I listen to a lot of music.  Honestly, I’m a music whore! Music is a massive part of my life & I’m constantly on the lookout for more tunes. I listen to a lot of different styles but my preferences is rock.  The heavier end of the musical spectrum gives me more of an emotional release (& sometimes it comes close to getting me off as well).  Just wondering, do you have any bands that you can suggest?

The only band that I think that fits your needs is a rubber band.  It has the versatility you’re looking for.  It can hold different sounds (the genre), can be flicked at different speeds (the beat) and can be used as a weapon afterwards (like a guitar).  For example, the next Grammy Award winning CD would include such tracks as the country version of ‘Twang for my girl’, the hard rock classic ‘Flick off’ and the pop version of ‘Ooops, that red rubber band hurts’.

As an artist, a rubber band is the ideal instrument.  You don’t need to lug any accompanying amps, cymbals or cords through customs when you’re on your world tour.  Then when you get to your gig, you can use your rubber band to secure your plastic bag full of marijuana for later.

However, sometimes a rubber band has a greater chance of breaking mid ‘riff’.  But don’t worry, all you have to do is grab another one from your rubber band ball.  This ‘ball’ is not only good for getting you out of a pickle on stage but when your tour is over, you can take it down to the basketball / handball / tennis courts and start a game with your mates on your down time.

In relation to rubber bands and ‘getting you off’, I’m not offering that kind of advice.  Google it.  And google it in the comfort of your own dirty and seedy bedroom. Eeeww.

Should I pay the removalists?

Dear Angry Agony Aunt

I’ve just moved house and I had the movers from hell.  When they were actually working, they were slow and broke a few things.  The rest of the time they stood around, drinking chocolate milk, muttering under their breath and farting in small rooms before running out to drink some more chocolate milk.  Should I pay the removalists?

Am I missing something?  Is there something gassy in chocolate milk?  I though lactose had a calming digestive effect, not the opposite.  I think there’s something seriously wrong with your removalist friends and really, you shouldn’t have made them move your house.  You should’ve taken them straight to the emergency room and waited with them until the Doctor gave them the all clear.  Your stuff will always be there when you get back; your removalist friend may not have made it through the day.  

But lucky for you, they worked through their digestive pain and got your stuff moved.  So what if they broke a few things?  What was going on between their esophagus and large intestine was far more dangerous than your precious broken aquarium.   

So do you pay their bill?  Yes, of course you do.  Firstly, they now where you live.  Secondly and most importantly, the last thing you want is a removalist bashing down your door with chocolate milk at the ready.

Dear Angry Agony Aunt,

I moved this guy’s house the other day and it made me feel sick.  It was like he had rotten eggs at the bottom of every box.  It was hard to breathe and I gagged a few times.  The only thing I had in my truck was some chocolate milk to get that horrible off-egg air taste out of my mouth.  A few times I was taken off guard and broke a few things of value.  He owes me money but I really don’t want to go back and smell that house again.  Also, I don’t want him to sue me for the broken items.  Should I cut my losses?

No - if you do the work, you should get paid.  My advice to you is to hold your breath, knock on his door and shove a carton of chocolate milk in his face.  Don't worry, you’ll get the money and if you stand there long enough, you might even get a tip.

Why are old people so rude?

Dear Angry Agony Aunt,

I’m finding myself becoming increasingly angry and frustrated at old people.  I know that I should be respectful and overly nice to them but I just find the majority of them so rude and arrogant and disrespectful towards me and others themselves that I think “Why bother?”  Also, I constantly find myself thinking that at the age they are, most of the time they should know better.  Is there something wrong with me?

Of course there’s something wrong with you.  You have B.O. and mould between your teeth.  Your girlfriend is the town bicycle, your Mum is sleeping with your boss and your boss has naked pictures of your Mum on his desktop.  You’ve got bigger problems than old people.  But do you know what, let’s go with it.

Old people are oddly cool, psychotic nincompoops.  On the one hand they keep calling a DVD Player a VCR and don’t know how to work a VCR, but on the other hand, they can put up a kilometre long fence in half a day.  Old people can’t remember where they put their glasses/teeth/tea/Viagra but they can make cakes that don’t puff or sag in the middle.  These reasons alone take care of the ‘oddly cool’ part but let's shuffle in to 'psychotic nincompoops' territory.

Old people have awesome ‘telling off’ finger waggles but when it comes to lifting heavy stuff, they sight ‘arthritis’.  Yeah right Grandpa.  Next.  Old people will yell at someone who’s sitting right next to them, yell at someone in the next room and yell as someone down the road but they'll whisper when they talk to birds, cats and dogs.

But apart from all their contradictions, old people have a legitimate reason to be rude and bitter.  And it’s a lot simpler than you think.  Old people are cranky because women live longer than men.  Yeah, I know, what a shitty world we live in. 

Having this unfair end-game means everyone’s cranky.  Obviously, the men are cranky because they’re going to hell first and the women are cranky because there’s no-one to put up any more fences.

But having said all that, there's only one cool thing about being old which they all keep a little secret from us 'young people'.  --- They have access to subsidised and frequently obtainable prescription medication.  Boo-yeah.  Up yours, youth-of-today.

What are the answers?

Dear Angry Agony Aunt,

I did your quiz and I got stuck on most of them.  Then I lost interest.  But I'm mildly curious and I can’t be bothered reading the whole blog.  What are the answers?

Wow.  I feel as useful and as loved as the current American economy.  Here are your answers - as I cry into my Chardonnay. 

1.  Red or dark red but to be more precise, maroon.

2.  30.

3. Mutton is the meat of an elderly sheep.  It’s like eating your Grandmother*.  Tough and yucky.

4. If you read my tag line, it says ‘What you need is a good kick up the pants. The pants are not provided but the boot is for free’.  So, no, I don’t sell boots on my blog, so stop asking.  If you want real boots, visit http://www.ebay.com/.

5.  An Aunty is the female sibling of one (and hopefully not both) of your parents.

6. The Wiggles.  And no, it doesn’t matter if it was sung by the old or the new yellow Wiggle.

7. Downtrodden and/or heartbroken.  My boyfriend answered this question before I’d finished asking it.  He seemed quite proud of that.  I found it sad that phrase was so deeply etched in his brain.

8. ‘Dead To Me’ button.  And Zuckerberg, if you steal my idea, just send me a cheque.  Let’s not involve the lawyers.

9. False.  The ‘Grapevine’ isn’t the cure for ANYTHING.  Unless it eventually turns in to Chardonnay.

10. ‘Flying The Rack’.  And I have no idea why this catchphrase hasn’t caught on.

11. (a) a chain of strip club convenience stores.  And upon further consideration, I’ve decided the name these stores - ‘Check Out Chicks’.  The chain’s slogan will be ‘Get your milk and your lap-dance at your convenience’. 

12. (c) Constable Perry McWhirter.  And we’ve never become friends.

13. Negative twenty.  And that just shows how unfair the world is.

14. Star spangled banner, the Lords prayer or Jack Nicholson’s monologue from ‘A Few Good Men’.  And if you’re a real smarty-pants, ‘Please, please, please, take me with you.’

15. Speed.  What do you do?

What do you do?  Send me a question is what you do… angryauntis@gmail.com

*Don't eat your Grandmother.  She'll just taste like chicken that's been sitting in the sun for 90 years. If you're really hungry for something old, I'd recommend eating a 90 year old Cheeseburger instead. At least you'll know it'll be as fresh as the day you bought it.