Am I going to be an astronaut when I grow up?

Dear Angry Agony Aunt,

Am I going to be an astronaut when I grow up?

Where are your parents?  And why aren’t they answering this question?  Mummy needs to get off the bottle and Daddy needs to zip up his diaper bag.

All I can give you kiddo, is some truthful advice.  And I’m going to warn you, it might not be the sparking ‘reach for the stars’ advice Mummy has been giving you all this time.  And while we’re on the subject, let me explain what she means by that.  She’s not being literal.  She’s not talking about the twinkle, twinkle, little stars you’ve been singing about - she’s talking about the stars that shimmy on the red carpet.  She doesn’t care what kind of star you reach for, as long as it nets you enough money to prop up her pharmaceutical drug habit.  That’s why she’s been cutting your hair to look like Justin Bieber.

But back to your question.  The answer is no, you’re never going to be an astronaut.  Why?  Because NASA are taking their bat, ball, helmets and jumpsuits and going home.  Apparently the moon is just a big black hole that sucks money through its vortex. (… I know, I know… That’s what Daddy says about Mummy…) 

But there’s not much to do on the moon other than plant flags and moonbuggy around.  There’s no Target’s, no petrol stations and no brothels.  So really, what’s the point in going up there?  And there’s even less to do on the space station.  All you’ll end up doing is mucking around, eating chewy, sardine bars and peeing in your pants.  It might work for you now, but you’ll get bored of it very quickly.

But if you still really like the thrust of a good engine, I suggest you give Richard Branson a call.  He’s the next King in line to reach Mars and that’s the only way you’re ever going to fly boy.

Send your questions to me - angryauntis@gmail.com

How do I get a girl like that?

Dear Angry Agony Aunt,

There's this customer at work that I find extremely attractive and beautiful, but she is completely out of my league.  She works in a much higher position and is earning probably way more that me, is very classy and absolutely stunning.  I'm crazy about her.  How could I possibly approach, let alone get a girl like that?  Do you have any tips?

Oh my god.  I'm amazed you managed to set your sentence structure to 'coherent'.  I'm guessing you were wailing like the big baby you are as you were typing your question.  I can just imagine the salty tears flooding in betwen the keyboard keys.  So my first piece of advice is to mop up the mess, blow your nose and read my further advice.

A man only has one role in life and that's to be downtrodden and/or heartbroken by a woman.  If a man isn't feeling one of these emotions at any one time, he's not a real man.  By the sound of your question, it seems like you have a case of both.  This means there's nothing wrong with you and you're doing everything right.  However, it also sounds like you're not operating in a rational state of mind, so I'm going to have to adjust my answer.

There's nothing worse in the world than unrequited love.  Nothing worse.  And that includes having crabs.  Or being bitten by a crab.  These situations can be cured easily with either a cream or a scream.  But there's no cure for a debilitating crush.  You can spend your days giving googly eyes to this obviously ungrateful woman with nothing in return other than a demand for you to do something work related.  Come to think of it, she sounds like a real bitch.

But there's no accounting for taste, so my advice is that you should go for it.  It'll end up one of two ways.  If she turns you down, you'll be heartbroken.  If she doesn't turn you down, you'll be forever downtrodden.  That means you're a real man and life is good.

Send your questions to me - angryauntis@gmail.com

Is there a daily quota of 'bless yous'?

The cold season has already started and I’m sick and tired of blessing everyone after they sneeze.  I wait the obligatory couple of seconds to see if anyone else will do it and they don’t.  Why is it always left up to me to bless people?  Do I have a daily quota of ‘bless you’s’?  If I do, what’s the number?  Surely it’s more than a serial killer and less than a priest ??

Hey.  Leave the comedy to me.  Stop cutting my grass.  You don’t see me coming to YOUR workplace, facilitating YOUR powerpoint presentations, drinking YOUR coffee and hitting on YOUR secretary.  Ask your question, read the answer, subscribe and move on.  That’s what happens here.  Pull your head in. 

Now, let’s get something out of the way.  I never really liked you at work.  There's so many reasons but I must confess, I found your ‘bless you’s’ especially irritating.  I don’t care what you say; you never waited the obligatory couple of seconds.  You were all over the 'bless you’s' like a fat kid to chocolate cake.  As soon as someone slightly heaved to a sneeze, you scooted to their workpod with a ‘bless you’ half way out your mouth.  If you actually worked that quick, you’d be a respected member of society. 

You’re so disturbed you’d bring a box of tissues to our weekly meetings.  Everyone knew you were subliminally sending messages, just waiting for your next snot fix.  You rang people up at home when they called in sick - as they held the most promise.  You could hear a sneeze on the next building.  You  deliberately became a First Aid officer so you could trawl the floor like a lady of the night, looking for her next John.  You’d deliberately get sick, come in to work and spread the germs, just so you could play God and bless everyone.

And do you know what?  You’re not God, so stop acting like it.  Also, you’re not a comedian, so knock it off.  Do your job.  Whatever that is.

How should I prepare the potato's?

Dear Angry Agony Aunt,
I have a dinner issue.  I have some lamb tenderloin and an amazing homemade eight bean salad, so how should I prepare the potato’s?

You really are ugly and unhappy aren’t you?   When you walk into a room, lights start flickering and the temperature drops.  You're loud, annoying and have a dumb stare like a German Sheppard wearing a hat.  (I’d normally say 'bulldog with a bow-tie' but that’s too upmarket for you).  You give your fellow American’s a bad name.  Yeah, you’re that bad.  I regret the day we met and spend a lot of energy trying to avoid you.

Now, to your potato’s.  If you asked a hundred people how to prepare your potato’s, you’d get a hundred different answers.  You’ll hear all kinds of various ways to boil, broil, fry or roast.  If someone’s really listening, they’ll ask you if you have a regular potato or if its underappreciated cousin, the sweet potato. If you ask a Wiggle, he’ll tell you to mash your hot potato. 

But watch out for the free advice red herring.  It comes in the form of something called ‘Deb’.  And I’m not talking about your ex-girlfriend Deb - as nice and tolerant as she is.  No, this Deb is 115 grams of powdery potato particles for 'potato on-the-go'.  The picture on the packet makes the dish look appetising but in reality, it ends up turning into a lumpy potato drink.  Deb (the potato drink) is such a cult hit that it has its own Facebook page.  True.  Comments range from ‘Deb is epic’ to ‘Deb tastes like dog food’.  Only one of these comments is true.  I’ll let you decide.

But if you really want to get the most out of your potato, use it correctly.  It’s called Vodka.

Should I get a sea turtle as a pet?

Dear Agony Aunt,

I’d like to get an exotic pet but the laws prevent me importing large sea turtles. Do you have any advice on how I can possibly get around this or could you recommend another animal that would be cool to own and is available in Australia?

Sea turtle hey?  Yeah.  Come to think of it, a sea turtle seems like a perfect companion for you.  Slow, prehistoric and surly looking.  You know that look well - an expression of constant and painful constipation.  Also, it’s been documented that sea turtles take decades to reach sexual maturity.  So, at the moment, I can’t think of a better pet for you.   

But just because a turtle is your ideal pet, doesn’t mean you’re theirs.  I say this because of a lunch we had a couple of months ago.  Yeah, you remember the one.  This is where you said that watching me eat was like ‘putting a turtle on its back and watching it try and get up again’.  Yeah, yeah, you’re hilarious.  Knee slapping, belly busting, wikileaking, hilarious. 

It’s for this reason I urge you not to get a turtle.  And make no mistake, if you get caught in customs with a turtle down your pants, I’ll be the first one down there spouting your lack of turtlery care.  I’ll tell customs that I can just imagine your new pet, ‘Mr Bojangles’, spending his life on his back, really angry and really cranky.  It might’ve been good enough for your ex-girlfriend but a turtle deserves better.

So, this brings me to my advice.  Forget turtles.  Forget cats.  Forget fish and forget anything that has eyes.  But if you really have to have a pet, like, right now, start small.  Cactus small.  Sure, it might prick you when you touch it - just like your ex-girlfriend but it doesn’t require any formal attention for extended periods of time.  Also, some cactus plants are hermaphrodites, meaning they’re able to have sex with themselves.  Wow… forget the turtle, a cactus is your perfect match.