Dear Dora,
What, in your experience, does it take to become a top class agony aunt?

As a top class agony Guru, I spend a lot of my time, up my Pole, wondering why people ask such stupid questions, and my cuddly-toy Snake Luke, my spirit guide, told me you often feel the same. What do you do when people ask you stupid questions? I try to fob them off with some metaphysical nonsense but the average pilgrim just doesn’t have the attention span for that kind of thing. It’s all instant-food, instant-coffee and instant enlightenment for the modern seeker.
How do you cope?

The Freelance Guru

Dear Guru,

I knew you would come knocking at my door asking for trade secrets before it was all said and done. A little birdie told me. Everyone wants to get into the act. But this job isn’t the “piece of cake” you envisioned, is it, Enlightened One. Let me tell you something, young man, many are called but few are chosen. It isn’t easy dispensing wisdom to the masses!

What in thunder are you doing on top of a pole?

No, on second thought, don’t tell me, I don’t think my delicate sensibilities could handle the answer. On a pole? To what “class” do you refer—gym? And, what is this “agony aunt?” Obviously, it’s some obscure British reference. How quaint.

I’m reluctant to tell you this, but men have a more difficult time being advice columnists. Most men spend far too much time listening to their snakes! I will admit, however, that you show some promise, so I’ll do what I can to help you. Besides, you amuse me.

Remember that people who write to you don’t really want advice. They just want to see their names and links to themselves on the internet…

…don’t they, Freelance Guru?

I can’t give you an “instant” answer to this one. If you want to be a first class “agony aunt,” remember the words of William Arthur Ward: “A second-class effort is a first-class mistake.” To be at the top of the game, stop listening to your snake! Listen to your readers. Sure, they have some of the most ridiculous questions you can imagine. But, always give them the best ludicrous answer you have to offer, as paltry as that may be. With perseverance, and more experience, your skills will increase exponentially.

My sister Ann said, “Class is the sure-footedness that comes with having proved you can meet life.” Hah! That shows how little she knew. You are a Brit, therefore you know that “class” is something with which one is born. For some of us, “class” oozes from every pore. Hold your pinkie finger high, young man.

How do I cope? A martini in one of these fabulous glasses from Swank does wonders for one’s coping skills.

Kiss, kiss

Dearest Darlin’ Dora,
It’s a wee bit of a problem I’m havin’ and I’m hopin’ you can help. It’s a trip to Las Vegas I had, yes I did, with some gold I had stashed under a rainbow. It seemed a likely time to use it.

Well, at first I was havin’ meself a high time, I was. Two lovely, leggy lassies clung to me everywhere I went. Expensive drinks I bought for them and gave them money to gamble. Begorrah! Seems my luck ran out on me. I lost every stinkin’ penny I had on them and in the slot machines!

Those lassies were talkin’ over my head, I hate it when people do that. I might not be tall, and I might not be the sharpest knife in the drawer, but I know when people are talkin’ about me. Soon…Poof! They were gone just like my money. Now, me pockets are empty and all me friends are gone. You’d think I had leprosy or somethin’. Me poor heart is aching. What should I do next?

Signed,
A lonely not so Lucky The Leprechaun

Dear “Leper” chaun,
It sounds like you slid down the banister of life and found a splinter pointing the wrong direction! What do you mean your luck ran out? If you are lucky enough to be Irish, you are lucky enough! Though I wouldn’t know about that.

Your problems are of your own making, and you are going to have to pull yourself up by your bootstraps. There’s an Irish saying you should know: “Remember even if you lose all, keep your good name; for if you lose that you are worthless.”

First, why in the world did you have your gold under a rainbow? Put it in a saving account where you can earn a whopping 3% interest on it!

Second, consider that you may have a gambling problem! Get yourself into a program, because gambling addiction is a serious matter.

Third, if you need money, I’m betting you can make a bundle endorsing cereal.

Fourth, what’s the use of being Irish if the world doesn’t break your heart? Those “lassies” were dogs…they were just after your lucky charms! You don’t need them!

Fifth, if you find people talking over your head, read the dictionary!

Now, go have a wee drop of Guinness to celebrate Saint Patrick’s Day. And, may you get all your wishes but one so you always have something to strive for.

Kiss, kiss

Dear Dora,
Some people have no manners at all! There was this lady I met on line. Well, I didn’t actually meet her, but I read her blog one time.

I started sending her the delightful forwarded e-mails I receive, sometimes there were seven or eight in a day. Some of them were hilarious! They just cracked me up.

You know the kinds I mean. Ones that bashed men (because they just deserve it) and ones that made fun of that Barracks Oboma and the creature Hillary Clinton (because they are soooo disgustingly liberal).

I sent her e-mails with jokes about those homersexual men and about those lebanese women and ones about those illegal aliens. All of those people are just a bunch of perverts! I sent her wonderfully sweet religious thoughts every day, too!

I thought she would enjoy getting to read all of these things. Maybe she would even want to blog about them!

Well, of all the nerve! That woman wrote me and asked me to take her off of my forwarding list! Can you believe that? So, to show her what for, I sent her 10 e-mails in a row.

What do you think of manners like that? I guess I showed her, didn’t I!

Signed,
Trying to be helpful

Dear Trying,

I’m sure you were very “trying!” Of all the nerve, indeed! And, yes you showed her. You demonstrated that you are a childish, self-righteous nutcase! What in the world made you think that a total stranger would want to receive forwarded e-mails from you?

Did it occur to you that perhaps that woman didn’t share your narrow-minded views about Barack Obama, Hillary Clinton, homosexuals and lesbians, men, OR illegal aliens? Did it occur to you to ask her if she wanted those e-mails? Did it occur to you she might consider this offensive? Did it occur to you that some people don’t have the time to sit around and snicker over trivial junk mail from total strangers?

The unsolicited and unwanted e-mails you sent to a person you do not know are called “spam,” and like the canned “meat” they are completely unappealing, especially served by strangers. Never send forwarded e-mail to people you don’t know!

Perhaps you should take a moment to re-read those “sweet religious thoughts” you sent and start acting the part. Then, hit the delete button and go get a life!

Kiss, kiss

• one-mississippi
• two-mississippi
• three-mississippi
• four-mississi…..
• You cheated, didn’t you!

Well, of course, it is the lovely Julia Roberts! But, the poor dear girl has a problem and has written to me for advice!

Dear Dora,
People make fun of my lips! They say that because I don’t have that little dip thingie in the middle of my lips that my lips are “duck lips!” I didn’t even know ducks HAD lips.

Should I get plastic surgery to make myself prettier?

Signed,
Pretty Woman

Dear Pretty,

We are proud of ourselves, now, aren’t we? You don’t need plastic surgery, for heaven’s sake. You’ve made a fortune on your looks (which aren’t “all that,” in my opinion). What more do you want? You Hollywood types are to quick to go under the knife. You start having surgery and you will end up looking like Joan Rivers! You could be featured on a blog for worst plastic surgery! Trust me, you don’t want that.

I’m not sure I want to help you anyway, because I’m still angry at you for dumping Lyle Lovett. Sure, the man has a face like a horse, and that hair of his is atrocious. But, he’s smart and funny and talented! You could put a bag over his head when you go to bed with him! Obviously, looks are the most important thing to you.

But, since you asked, I’ll try. That “little dip thingie” is your “philtrum” (from the Greek word for, “to love; to kiss”). It is a shame that you don’t have one. But, can’t you afford a lip pencil? Just outline those suckers and make them the shape you want them. Why, you could even have a “Cupid’s bow” if you wanted, though I just don’t think that would go well with the rest of your face.

I wouldn’t worry about what people say at all if I were you. You can just laugh that irritating braying donkey laugh of yours all the way to the bank.

Now, might I suggest a pair of tweezers for those eyebrows and a brush for that hair?

Kiss, kiss

Dear Dora,
I have a real problem. Well, actually, my teenage daughter does. She has such a beautiful little button nose—but she always has her finger up it. I’m ashamed to admit that my daughter is a “booger flicker.” Slime is everywhere!

She flicks them on the floor of my car and on the carpet. You can’t walk through the house barefoot without feeling the crunch of those boogers under your feet. She wipes them on the couch and underneath the cabinets. Ick!

I don’t know what to do! I’ve tried everything, I even made her eat them, and nothing stops her. Help!
Signed
It’s Not Working!

Dear ‘Snot Working,

It would be trite to ask if button noses run in your family, wouldn’t it? That’s just easy picking, so to speak.

Somethings is deviated here, and I don’t think it’s that poor girl’s septum! You made her what? Oh my. You do have a problem, and I’m not sure it’s your daughter!

This is a dilemma, because it is terribly hard to reform a booger flicker. You say you have tried everything, have you really? Did you make her miss her prom to clean up her own mess? Did you take out a full page ad in your local newspaper, so that all her friends would know?

Wait. That last one might not be such a fine idea. If people know her disgusting little secrets you might never get rid of her. She will never find a mate to put up with her gross actions, and you will be dealing with the snot for the rest of your natural born days.

But, then, Britney found a mate (or two or five), didn’t she? She has some pretty gross actions of her own! There is no accounting for taste.

I’ll tell you a secret remedy that my sainted mother used on my sister, Abby. “Dear” Abby was a booger flicker, too, did you know that? She was! She was a thoroughly disgusting young woman, not so dear at all, in fact. But that’s a story for another time. Mother dipped Abby’s dainty little paws in horseradish. Oh, what fun that was to see! The next time Abby put her finger in her nose THAT cleared her sinuses!

You see, perhaps the problem is too much mucous in the first place. It’s possible that your darling daughter has allergies. Approach the problem from the source. There is a wonderful, though not very appealing, remedy to help her get the sinuses cleared. Show her this video of nasal lavage, and tell her it will become a daily routine if she doesn’t stop picking and flicking. It will kill her or cure her.

If all else fails, I told you about duct tape, didn’t I? It has another use: Wrap her mitts in it, and she won’t be able to get her fingers up that adorable nose.

And remember, you can pick your friends, and you can pick your nose, but you can’t pick your friend’s nose.

Kiss, Kiss

Dear Dora,

I asked my girlfriend Izzy for a little cash to buy a few boats for a business venture and promised to pay her back with lots of interest. Now I’m sitting in the middle of the ocean going nowhere fast and in danger of sinking fast. What’s my next step?
Chris

Dear Chris,
Now isn’t that just like a man?

You start out on a trip without asking for directions AND you borrowed money from your rich girlfriend. Now, you want to get sympathy? You are such a cliché .

Aren’t you the one who said, and I quote, “For the execution of the voyage to the Indies, I did not make use of intelligence, mathematics or maps.”

Obviously.

What did you expect? Now you have the sinking feeling that you are dead in the water. You want sympathy? I have none. You want encouragement?

• Don’t give up the ship.
• You can’t give up, that’s not the American Way.
• This country wasn’t founded by quitters!
• Get out of the doldrums.
• Sometimes you have to take the long way around to get to where you are going!
• The third time is the charm!
• Put on your big girl panties and deal with it!

You see, I can do clichés, too!

As for your “next step?” Let’s hope it is not off the gangplank. You want my advice, but as another famous captain (Captain James T. Kirk, an enterprising fellow, if ever there was one) said, “One of the advantages of being Captain is being able to ask for advice without necessarily having to take it.”

I don’t expect that you will follow my advice, but I’ll tell you this: Stop acting as if you were the “Great Admiral of the Ocean.” You can’t sit back and wait for the world to come to you. Sail on, sailor. If you are lucky, you will meet your goal, and maybe get a holiday named after you. Pay that girlfriend back, or you might end up in the slammer. Oh, and, when you reach that far away shore, be careful about accepting gifts from strangers. You might find yourself with a “gift that keeps on giving!”

Kiss, Kiss,
Dora

Take me out to the ball game!

Do you remember eating those sweet treats when you were small? Of course you don’t. The intervening years have destroyed the brain cells, haven’t they? But, you loved them, I’m sure you did. The sight of Sailor Jack and Bingo on a box of Cracker Jack on the shelf at the grocery store had you salivating and begging your mother for some change.

One of my Dear Readers wrote to me and said:

Dear Dora,
My small children love to help me in the kitchen. I don’t trust them with knives, but I want them to learn to help. Can you suggest a recipe that we can enjoy making as a family?
Signed,
Mother of Six

Dear Crazy Mom,
Isn’t that …special. Cooking with the children. Of course I can suggest a recipe. I’ll share it with you all.

If you have rug rats small children, you might enjoy mixing up a delightful homemade version of Cracker Jacks. It’s a very simple recipe.

I think.

I’ve never actually tried it, because I have a cook to do that. I’ve certainly never cooked with my children, because the nanny kept them occupied.

I found this treat in a cookbook called “Der Kuchenfunk.” That’s not a dirty word; it’s German. I think it means something like “Cookery Talk,” but don’t get me lying.

Here are the ingredients for Mom’s Cracker Jacks (no, I don’t know whose mom):

3 Tbsp. of molasses
1Tbsp. butter
1/2 c sugar
1/3 c. water
1/4 tsp. soda
1/4 tsp. salt
2 Tbsp. vinegar
1 tsp. vanilla
popped popcorn (Of course, you pop it first. Does the person who wrote this recipe think I’m an idiot?)
peanuts (optional)

In a saucepan (which is one of those little round ones), mix together the molasses, butter, sugar, water, salt and vinegar. Bring it to a boil and cook it until the mixture spins a thread when dropped from a spoon (Spins a thread? How handy is that?). Remove the pan from the heat and add the vanilla; then the soda. Pour it over the popcorn. You can make popcorn balls or just tear it apart.

Now, keep in mind that there won’t be any toys in this mixture. But, don’t fret. The little ones will probably get this mixture all over the toys.

I hope you have a good dentist.

Kiss, Kiss,
Dora

The authors of this book claim that “Bitch” stands for “Babe In Total Control of Herself.” Puhleeze! That would mean that Shelly isn’t one.

Now, trust me I could cook if I wanted to do so. But, why? I have hired help to do the drudgery. However, I must admit that there are recipes in this book that are intriguing.

• Beer Bread
• Rum Slush
• Wine Marinated Artichoke Hearts
• Loin of Pork in Red Wine
• Chicken Breasts in Champagne
• Whiskey Cake
• Scotch Eggs

Do you see where I am going with this? No wonder Shelly swears by this book (Did I tell you she swears all the time? She doesn’t have to be by this book to do so).

At the back of the book, it even has a section of “Household Hints!” The authors claim that it contains “tips to remedy this or that in the household.” I’m not so sure. You don’t need them if you have me.

But, wouldn’t this make a nice coffee table book?

Kiss, Kiss

Yes, Dear Readers, Valentine’s Day is right around the corner. What a boon for Hallmark cards, your local jewelry store, and your florist! Have you purchased a gift for your sweetie? If not, you might already be too late!

Buying a gift can be so difficult. Your mother always told you, “when choosing a gift, pick something you would like.” Your mother was wrong!

Men, remember that sparkly diamonds really are a girl’s best friend. If diamonds are too pricey for your wallet, go for flowers or candy (unless she is on a diet, in which case she will not thank you for sabotaging her hard work).

The best gift you can give is your time. Take her out for a nice meal, and make your reservations now. If you don’t make reservations, you might find that the only restaurant with table space on Valentine’s Day is Hooters. While that might please you, your sweetie might not have the glands to appreciate those scantily clad waitresses.

What?

You don’t have a sweetie? Obviously, you are doing something wrong! Hopefully not as wrong as this fellow, who wrote me a letter just today:

Dear Dora,
Help. All’s I was doing was trying to get a date. See, I ain’t been having no luck. My friends all said I should be direct. So, I was. There was a hot chick at the jury room at the courthouse the other day. I passed her a note. I got arrested for it! What did I do?
Signed,
In The Slammer

Dear Slammer,
I read about you in the Denton Record Chronicle Police blotter! Isn’t it a small world? I’m sure that jail cell is small!

The newspaper reported that your note said you wanted to have “illegal sexual relations” with her. Well, duh! If you had said you wanted to have “legal sexual relations” with her, you might not be in this trouble!

Obviously, you have a poor concept of the definition of “date.” When you are released, write me and I’ll try to explain it to you.

Look on the bright side, at least if you are in jail for Valentine’s Day, you have the potential for lots of “dates.” Watch your back!

Happy Valentine’s Day!
Kiss, Kiss

Isn’t Duct Tape a marvelous invention? Please don’t pronounce that as “duck” tape. It’s so plebeian.

It has so many handy uses. Why, I can’t even begin to name them all; but you should always keep a roll of duct tape handy.

Are you going on an art walk with your friends (trust me, they are not your friends if they are making you walk!)? Protect your tender tootsies with a thin strip of duct tape so you won’t get blisters!

Are you out of bandaids, but have an “ouchie?” Pull out that duct tape! You can put a cotton ball over your wound and secure it with a strip of duct tape. I don’t recommend this for pimples on your face, however. A girl has to have some kind of dignity.

Did you go out in the woods and get a tick? Disgusting! What were you doing in the woods? Don’t tell me, I don’t want to know!

Well, to get rid of that little sucker, just put a strip of duct tape over him (making sure that the tape is in contact with the tick!). Give it a yank, and that unwanted visitor is gone.

Are your slippers falling apart? You can re-sole them using duct tape! Cut strips of tape long enough to cover the length of the shoe, overlap each strip. Then, trim around the edges! Isn’t that clever? Now, I hope you don’t have pets, because that pet hair will stick to your shoes. Put on your big girl panties and deal with it! Don’t you ever vacuum?

Are those delightful little urchins bored? Get out your duct tape and wad up strips of it to make them a ball! They can play hackey sack or a nice game of catch.

You can even use duct tape to make a cat toy! Cats are so stupid that they will play with anything. And, you can have hours of fun watching them try to get it out of their mouths, if you leave the sticky side out!

Didn’t I tell you that duct tape is wonderful? I bet you have thought of a million uses for it yourself. You can share, I don’t mind.

One thing to remember, though. If you use these ideas, you leave no room for doubt. Using duct tape does not mean that you “might” be a redneck.

You are!

Kiss, Kiss!

Dora