“Dear Auntie Evans,

I’ve recently started working in a pub, and the amount of money I’m spending on travel, plus the late finishes and long journeys back, are starting to seriously eat into my leisure time. Is there a solution?”

Evans Responds:

“Clara, you’ve come to exactly the right aunt. I mean, man.

Working in a pub can be great fun, especially if one or more of your friends work there too. Never mind the fact you’ve never worked in a pub before and seem incapable of not overpouring every single ale, you’ll soon learn to disguise this by regularly emptying the drip trays.

Now, onto the residential situation. If you’re lucky like me, the pub will be owned by an American with aspirations of a B&B but who lacks – at least for now – the resources to spend extortionate amounts of money bringing the neglected upstairs accommodation up to a standard that a respectable human being – or even any human being – would want to spend eighty quid a night to sleep in. This may be helped by the previous landlord having neglected the property to the extent that there are holes in the ceilings and the toilet seat is coming off.

These dilapidations are your chance – seize with gusto any offer of renting a room above the establishment, even if it lacks a usable kitchen.

Lacks a usable kitchen you say? Yes. But who needs a kitchen? You’ll be living above a pub. As a wise northerner once said, “Beer… feeds me.” And it does! If you play it right, you can spend about 80% of your monthly paycheque in the very bar that you earned it.

As for rent, your benevolent employer/landlord will nbo doubt take your rent directly from your wages. This is a brilliant arrangement, as not only does it ensure all your bills and rent are paid before you have to buy new glasses, but gives you the opportunity of pre-hatch chicken counting.

A lack of basic knowledge of the income tax system of the UK should mean that you grossly overestimate the amount of disposable income you’ll have post-deductions, leaving you with just enough cash to buy a two-week supply of Homepride pasta bake sauces, baccy and Rizla.

I suggest befriending a couple of regulars and inviting them to enjoy the weekly pub quiz, where you can exchange your encylopaedic – if trivial – knowledge for lovely boozes. All sorted!

With any luck, the two weeks at the end of each month where you have no money will see you drink like a lord, and as an added bonus you can probably bully the chef too.

Huzzah!”

“Dear Auntie Evans,

I was recently informed that the office I work in is closing down. Yesterday, the bastards told me I have five weeks left. What to do?”

Evans Responds:

“Well Marina, if you are sensible like me you will have not spent the last few weeks since informed of your impending redundancy searching for alternative employment.

This would obviously be a waste of time, and will continue to be so for the next month until you find yourself jobless.

What I would recommend is getting wasted tomorrow night and not going back in. You don’t really need that five weeks’ wages, do you – after all, it’s been a while since you had to buy any new specs!

Now, if all has been going according to plan you will have been sharing a house with a couple of useless unemployed brothers who have both recently got a job. Your new status as the workshy member of the household will have you transferred to the smallest bedroom and on permanent cleaning and cooking duty in no time at all.

This will obviously get on your wick, but watch out – any small altercation could lead to them becoming cunts of the highest magnitude. Considering they’ve probably got you sleeping in a bed infested with all sorts of creepy-crawlies by now, I’d imagine you’ll want to snap and move out on a whim.

Where to live next, then? Your mum will put you up for a day or two, but I’d imagine the most awesome plan would be to move into a two-bed flat that already contains three other people: a ket-fiend, a perpetually unemployed man with an inability to be angered, and a young black teenager who is obsessed with slash. You’ll be renting the sofa, but that’s ok, it won’t be the first time.

Now, living in this precarious predicament would suggest that you need to be on your best behaviour. However, the much more fun alternative is to tick a load of drugs from a dealer that doesn’t know about it, and have to move out within an hour before he kneecaps you.

Follow the above tips and you’ll be back to your sofa-surfing ways in no time at all! Hope you enjoy.”

Smick from the Wild Wild West writes,

“Dear Auntie Evans,

I’ve just seen two crackheads, talking jibberish, shaking babies and having a little dance when they thought I wasn’t looking. Any advice?”

Evans responds:

“Well Catboy, in this sort of situation, you wanna hope the crackfiends haven’t seen you. But as they’re a little blurry when you’ve lost your glasses, let’s assume they noticed, and deal with it before you develop an addiction.

Shape a large carrot from crack, tie it to a stick, and use it to lure them away from the shaken baby. If you can’t get hold of enough crack – maybe your dealer is hanging out in Northamptonshire, for example – shape a rock of crack from a real carrot instead. You’ll probably find one in the bins behind M&S.

As for the talking jibberish, well… as you know, I often believe other people are speaking Spanish. Maybe you just aren’t listening, or shouldn’t have done so many pills last night.

Hey ho.”

Trevor O’Shanty from Quimsford asks:

“Dear Auntie Evans,

With it being a new year, I’m wondering what clothing’ll be in fashion this season. Can you give me any sartorial tips for 2010?”

Auntie Evans responds:

“Dear Trev,

As you know, i’m all about les arts-de-fabrique. I think you’ll find the best clothes this year will indeed be found – in a bin bag. If you’re squatting, you’ll easily find socks and the suchlike, previously belonging to your best friend’s big sister who has size three feet. Hey, at least they’ll keep your toes warm, and even if they’re bright pink, you won’t be able to make out the fairy or cartoon cow motifs on account of having mislaid your specs.

If you wish to inform people about the phenomenal gulf between your actual intellect and track record for daftness, you could try a T-shirt with Shakespeare on it. Some people will recommend shoplifting the clothes you desire, but in my experience this just gets you hit around the head by a 73-year-old Pakistani man.

Other than the above, coaching jackets for warmth. If you’re lucky there may be some Cresta merchandise around, that really is this year’s Prada.

You’ll be swish as a lord.”

Don’t worry, though, normal service will be resumed ASAP.

Meanwhile, here’s Evans pulling a funny face in the background from before Unique was shut down, and a picture of Always Evans proudly displayed on a Macbook Air in central London’s Apple store, where we planted it on about twenty computers for the public’s delectation. Hey, maybe you are reading this now because of it.

Happy new year!