Do I have to keep contributing?

Dear Agony Aunt,

With all these natural disasters of late, including the millions of fish dying en-mass and hundreds of thousands of birds falling from the sky at once, do you think it’s the end of the world?  If so, do I really need to keep contributing to my superannuation?

Well, well, well.  When they were giving out compassion and sensitivity, I bet you were in the back of the line painting your toenails.  Natural disasters are more than birds and fish.  Real people died.  So before I get into it, I’m pressing my index fingers to my temple, closing my eyes really tight and wishing you some kind of karma payback tomorrow.  I hope your boss gives you the sack.  Then you’ll really have to worry about superannuation.  But if by some karma miscarriage of justice, you make it through the work day, this is your answer.

Superannuation is the worst form of gambling.  It's betting you’ll make it to your wrinkly gold watch.  What’s worse is that it isn’t called gambling, it’s called ‘saving’.  And not your traditional piggy bank saving where you can listen to your money clink and grow.  No.  This 'saving' is where some stranger holds your ‘invisible’ money and every year apologises for 'losing' some of it.  They call it ‘market losses’ and ‘administrative fees’.  What a scam.

But it doesn’t end there.  Not only are you losing money, but you’re forced to bet on your actual life end date.  You see, if you don’t save enough, you’ll only be able to go to the hairdresser once every six months for your blue dye.  However, if you save too much, you’re ugly, greedy and ungrateful kids will get all the money.  This is probably worse of the two scenarios because with all that excess money, you could’ve bought a motorbike and/or had a high-class hooker for a week.

So my advice to you is that you should pick a number and stick to it.  The current world average for life expectancy is 67.2.  This is actually a good number for you as it’s same as your IQ.  So do the maths and say goodbye to your money.  But having said all that, there are always unforseen variables.  Watch out for flying mackerels.

Should I date Charlie Sheen?

Dear Angry Agony Aunt

I recently did a celebrity internet quiz on Valentines Day and found out my ideal partner is Charlie Sheen.  This is great but I worry about his crazy behaviour.  Do you think he’ll be able to commit to me without the pain of associated addiction?  His track record hasn’t been the greatest and I wonder if we could see it through thick and thin.

Oh my god.  My life just got that little bit worse.  Birds stopped chirping, thunderstorms have started crackling in the distance and I think there’s a little vomit in my mouth.

Are you serious?  Charlie’s got enough problems to deal with.  I’m guessing that putting up with you - even being introduced to you will send him over the edge.  He’s a talent - a drunk guy, playing a drunk guy and that kind of talent is rare.  Being anywhere near you would be the end of his sparkling career and I won’t have any part of it.

What you need to do is stay away from the internet.  If you can’t do that, then stay away from any kind of quizzes.  This includes surveys, IQ tests and internet banking.  Society can’t afford to have the internet break down because of one stupid person.  And while you’re at it, maybe it might also be a good idea to stay away from people.  Oh my god - I just got a shiver.  Maybe you’re family/friends just cheered.  I can’t be sure.

But what I can be sure of is that you’re an idiot.  It’s a guess - an educated guess - but I’m guessing Charlie Sheen doesn’t date girls who surf the net and do quizzes on Valentines Day.  I’m guessing he only dates girls who are already on the internet.  And do you know what, good luck to him.

For all the problems he has, his problems are okay.  They only involve a 90 day stint at Betty Ford and a lot of hugs and support.  Your problems on the other hand are much harder to deal with.  And you’re not paying me by the hour but should be seeing someone who does.  If it's good enough for Charlie, it's good enough for you.

Send your questions to me - angryauntis@gmail.com

What happens after 'hello'?

Dear Angry Agony Aunt,

A co-worker said hello and I said hello back.  Then a couple of seconds of silence passed and they said a sarcastic ‘good thanks’.  My problem is that, I don’t remember asking them how they were because I distinctly remember not caring.  Do I have to ask EVERYONE how they are when I see them?

This is why you should never date your co-workers.  After the initial burst of effervescent bubbly love has turned into a murky, icky and sticky, stinky bog, you both still have to occasionally talk to each other.  This is where passive aggressive conversations reign supreme and sarcasm lifts its skirt to show a bit of leg.  

You see, sarcasm is the ‘smart’ of dumb people.  Sarcasm has a little bit of wit but it’s so lacking, it needs to be served with a side dish of tone.  And you need tone when you’re trying to make a sad and pathetic point.  Sarcasm gives you the 'snippy' without the ‘snappy’.  So if that’s the kind of relationship you want, my advice is - ‘Snip, snap, front and back’. 

However, if you’re after the fool proof stuff, I’ve got that for you as well.  This is becuase you sound like a real fool.  So here we go.  If you want to stop having to ask people how they are, you need to tell everyone you love them.  Yes, you read right, tell everyone you love them. 

Tell Dickie from the Mailroom you love him.  Tell Vaz in Accounting you love her.  Tell your boss, your boss’ boss, the guy that delivers the milk and the massage man that visits once a month.  I'm serious. Everyone.  Don’t discriminate.  Practice your heart felt, ‘I love you’ in the mirror, then let loose.  Be consistent and don't miss a single person.  Be brave.  Be bold.  Squeeze into that lunch line and tell EVERYONE you’re life is that more colourful with them in it and gosh damn, you just love them for it. 

Once you do this, all you need to do is walk around and smile.  Why?  Because you're happy.  This is because after a short period of time, EVERYONE will stop saying hello and you’ll already know how they’re feeling.  Frightened.  Very, very frightened.

Can a friend copy your child's name?

Dear Angry Agony Aunt,

My sister-in-law recently had a baby girl and called her ‘Eden’.  Her pregnant friend visited them in hospital and a couple of weeks later had a baby boy.  She called her baby boy, Eden.  Can a friend copy or steal your child's name?  I mean, most of us only have a couple of children, out of the thousands of baby names out there, shouldn’t they just back off?

If nothing else, life is a race to see who can get through the birth canal first.  In most cases, head first.  But in some, bum first.  And that explains a lot about a lot of people.  Especially those people who give their children unrealistic and un-subbed first names.

You know what I’m talking about.  Jack with two kay’s.  Jakk.  Peter with a silent eff.  Pfeter.   A first name merger.  Joyanne.  Phonetic name spelling.  Aalivyah.  Rebellion for the sake of rebellion.  Kymberleigh.  Then there’s just the random pot-pourri names. Charismatage.  Q’Dell.  Sham.  Torianna-Sharisse.  The parents responsible for this crime against humanity argue ‘individuality’.  I just argue ‘breech birth’.

So let me tell you what should happen.  Every hospital should have a fat and cranky matron heading the registry department who knows how to wield a red nikko pen.  She’ll be expertly trained to give any new parent a spectacular death stare through her judgemental glasses and give a squeaky red cross when you put a vowel or a consentient in the wrong place.  That’ll stop all your ZowiMitchyl’s, Quintynn’s, Maddisyn’s and Jaeson’s.  

But back to your question about name copyright.  This is a prime example as to why you should never share things with your friends.  Skirts never get returned.  Cars come back with bumper dings.  Boyfriends never look the same.  And the same goes with baby names.  Your sister-in-law should’ve either lied about her child’s name or put an embargo on the name.  In layman’s terms, she should’ve called ‘dibs’.  So really in this case, she’s only got herself to blame.

Having said that, your sister’s friend seems like she was born breech and would still do something stupid by having twin girls and calling them Jasmine and Jasmine - then wonder why Centrelink will only pay her for one child.