The Angry Agony Aunt

How do I get sponsorship?

2012-04-27T21:16:00.002-07:00

Hey Ags, What's happenin?

I want some advice.

Mate, i'm the top notch, you beaut, buffed up, puncherific, smashaholic, take no shit, do-no-wrong Tasmanian heavyweight wrestlin champion and professional badass extraordinaire.

I've got the fists that kill and the looks that thrill and when I'm not in me wrestlin gear pummling my opponents in the ring with unrelenting bashment, I'm struttin me stuff around the streets of Launceston in me denim floggin out a belting to any c*** who so much as looks at me, even if they don't look at me.

I've got it all and everybody wishes they could be me... But I want more!!!!!

For years i've been tryin to get big multi million dollar companies to endorse me and throw bundles of free shit and cash my way for nuthin but none of them seem to care. I've tried em all!!! KFC, Subway, Colgate, Wrigleys chewin gum, Mcains, Coke and a certain other heartless soulsuckin shit heeled U.S. soft drink giant who will remain nameless (ie Dr Pepper, the pricks)

But no luck....... Not a red cent, nuthin!!!!!! Mate, What gives?????!!!!!!?????? How do i get one?

Sincerely aggravated, The hot buttered kid.

Hi Hot Butttered

I can’t understand why no-one will sponsor you either. You sound positively dreamy. A modern day Tony Danza if you like. Your words just jump off the page and immediately get people in to a Nelson Hold. I could feel the strength of your bulging and pulsating muscles under my arms and could imagine your stale tuna breath against my ear.

I think your problem is with the type of companies you're approaching. To be sponsored successfully, you need to align yourself to products more akin to your personality. The role of a self-absorbed ninny has already been trademarked by Warwick Capper but here are a few other suggestions for you.

- Libra maternity pads. Thick and bulky for girls.

- Sure Fit ear plugs. To drown out that annoying sound.

- Aaron’s Hardware. For when you’re looking for a REAL tool.

- Any female urination device that allows you to pee while standing up.

- Ansell condoms. What happens when the dumb sperm get through.

But if any of these suggestions fall through (but I think Ansell will pay up), I suggest you get the ultimate sponsorship and go on the Dole. But a word of warning. Even though it looks like you’re getting money for nothing, the Dole is owned by me - and all my other tax paying Angry Agony Aunt readers. So we’ll require you to do things for us in return. My first and only job for you is to take some Imodium becuase that stuff is still dribbling out of your mouth. I’m sure my readers will have other suggestions.

Love and kisses, Angry Aunty.

I come back from holidays to this...

2012-04-22T04:21:00.000-07:00

I come back from holiday and these were only some of the questions waiting for me in my inbox. angryauntis@gmail.com

Dear Angry Agony Aunt,

Someone at work used my bin to throw away their empty soft drink bottle. They only sit down the hall, shouldn’t they have used their own bin?

That's disgusting! That's like you co-worker putting their filthy rubbish directly in to your mouth! Take a stand. Too many people have been quiet about this issue. And you'll be surprised how much this happens. It's outrageous! Your Manager needs to know. Right now. No, no, right now. Don't read the rest of this Agony Aunt, sent the message. Tell them I sent you. You're a brave, brave solider.

Dear Angry Agony Aunt,

Why do people leave their decisions up to chance? Why flip a coin or use another stupid ‘pick an answer out of a hat’ system? Can people really not make decisions?

What are you talking about? All the best decisions are made by flipping a coin. How would we know who was going to bat first? What would the old fella’s do on Anzac Day? How do you think your husband picked you over your sister?

But as Sigmund Freud said, it’s not the ‘chance’ outcome itself that matters, it’s how you feel about the outcome. So if you feel bad about what was tossed, you have the chance to change it; ergo, you’re making a decision. So whether you pick a box, draw the short straw or pick highlighters out of an envelope (weird!) remember, playing with chance is the best decision you ever make.

Dear Angry Agony Aunt

Every four years we get an extra day in February. What did you do on the leap year day this year?

I ate a bucket of broccoli in the morning and farted like a rocket all afternoon.

Dear Agony Aunt,

A new girl has started at work and I share a work area with her. She’s constantly verbally abusing me and I don’t understand why she does it because I’m a really nice person. Also, she keeps interrupting me when I’m working. But what irritates me more is that she can’t pronounce the word Australia. I never thought I’d hear it said with such a ‘bogan’ drawl. It’s like fingernails down a chalkboard. I spend forty hours a week with this ‘person’, how can I make life at work more bearable?

Use her bin.

Dear Angry Agony Aunt,

Delta Goodrem on ‘The Voice’ makes me really mad. I both hate and like her at the same time. I like that she’s talented but I hate that she’s fake. Please tell me she’s not going to win the competition.

She’s not going to win the competition. Because at the eleventh hour, Cher is going to land in Australia, storm in to Channel Nine and steal Delta's chair. She's then going to apologise to 'all of Australia' for selling the keys to Adelaide on e-bay (but what she doesn't know is that everyone outside of South Australia doesn't care).

Then by way of sabotage, she'll stand over Keith causing him to have a real fear of taller women, she'll give Joel a good charlotte, beat Seal in a 'charm-off' then win the entire competition with the blind girl.

Delta will be ushered out of the studio with sherbet stick and a couple of milk chews for her troubles but at least her parking will be validated.

Dear Angry Agony Aunt

My mother is in her fifties and she recently bought a scooter. The first time she rode it, she accidentally drove it in to a fence, fell off and gave herself a black eye. Should she keep the scooter?

Head says yes tails says no.

Send your questions to angryauntis@gmail.com

Where should I go?

2012-03-12T02:36:00.001-07:00

Angry Aunt, hi,

There’s this box at work, right. It was slightly poking out the side of a walkway. The HR manager saw it and asked everyone to stop what they were doing to gather around the box. She said it was ‘important to discuss what’s wrong with this situation’. So, everyone stood around the taped up box and was given a five minute serve on workplace health and safety. She said it was ‘everyone’s responsibility to make sure hazards don’t exist in the workplace’.

Then after her monologue, she asked who owned the box. Of course, after her speech, no-one was going to fess up. So because no-one claimed the box, she ‘officially’ took ownership and opened it. It was filled with gawdy Chirstmas decorations. Aunty, it was disgusting. I mean, someone in my work area saw fit to over stuff a box with disgusting twinkle and those ball things. It smelled real bad and stuck to the side was a cut-out cardboard Santa that looked like a dead Santa. It was faded and ripped and just feral. Santa’s eyes had been poked out and there was a tack hanging out of his nose. If I’m not getting my point across it was like opening a box of farts and fingernail clippings. I gagged as soon as the box was opened and the tinsel was unraveled.

So to my question… You see, I was okay to look at the unopened box for the past two months in the walkway, no problems. But now it’s ‘safely’ in the cupboard, I can’t walk past the cupboard and not think about it. I can’t concentrate on my work. I can’t function in my day to day relationships. I want to go to report it to the HR Manager but she’s the one that caused the problem in the first place. I’m desperate. Should I go to CEO? Should I go to the Police? Where should I go?

Go to the North Pole. Sort your shit out.

How can I calm him down at the lights?

2012-03-03T22:18:00.003-08:00

Dear Angry Agony Aunt
My boyfriend is a wonderful man with a kind heart. However, he has an issue with the pedestrian lights at intersections. As soon as he gets to the lights and there’s a red man, he gets aggressive with the button and frantically presses until the green man lights up. It’s really embarrassing to stand next to him when he’s like that so how can I calm him down at the lights?

What is it with that stupid dumbass red man? I’ve had many arguments with my boyfriend about this subject at the lights. My boyfriend may not violently bash at the button, but he verbally bashes me instead.

Every time is the same. We’re holding hands as we get to the lights. I press the button (once) and wait. He lets go of my hand and huffs half way across the road without me. I give him a death stare. He sighs, comes back then gives me a verbal spray full of misused English sounding words followed by a little spittle.

He argues that you can cross the road (with care) if there is a red man. As long as there’s no traffic, the red man is more of a suggestion than an enforceable instruction. He tells me (very loudly sometimes) that it’s a waste of time to stand by the road when there’s clearly no traffic.

I disagree. I argue (much more calmly) that if you’re doing bad things, bad things will happen. If that truck you didn’t see slams in to your person and the subsequent call involves an ambulance or a coroner, you’re in the wrong and you have no-one to blame but yourself. That is, if you’re still alive to start distributing blame. So we argue for twenty seconds, the green man appears, we cross the road and it’s all over.

And the reason I don't just let him go and chance it is because I need him alive for sex and chores around the house. In that order.

PS - But to answer your question, the solution is quite simple. As your boyfriend is bashing the button, start screaming. Tell him your channeling the pain of the red man. Scream that you can feel every bash of the button. He presses, you scream. Repeat.

Should I play along with my mistaken identity?

2012-02-20T17:45:00.000-08:00

Dear Angry Agony Aunt

I attended three work functions this month. At every function, at least one person mistook me for another person. Funnily enough, the person they mistook me for is ten years younger than me. This is a wonderful compliment but I'm not sure if I should I just play along with this mistaken identity?

You must just have one of those faces. It must suck to be you after a witness has completed an identikit and you’re in a police lineup.

Witness : “Number three”.

Policeman : “Are you sure?”

Witness ; “Ahh… not a hundred percent, but boy, that person looks familiar.”

Policeman : “Does anyone else look familiar to you?”

Witness : “No, just number three.”

But that aside, my first piece of advice is quite straight forward. If you’re being mistaken for someone ten years younger, this is a great testament to Dr Lewinn and the Ponds Institute. First things first. Write them a letter.

Secondly, if this situation arises again, I have something for you. However, this must only be reserved for people who should know better and who should really know your name. These people include but aren't limited to your boss, your husband and your Psychologist.

Here's what you do. After the 'mis-introduction', you must shower the 'introducer' with compliments. Go to town. Tell them how smart and efficient they. Tell them you feel sorry for them that they have a team of incompetent staff. Go a little overboard. It won't hurt.

Tell them that with your hand on your heart that you hope the rumours aren’t true and that the company is making the team redundant. Then when your teary monologue is complete, finish by calling them their boss’ name. I repeat. Call them their boss' name. Then wait a few seconds, sniffle and sigh.

But remember, this is an act of revenge and the last thing you want is retaliation. So for this to be effective, you need to leave immediately. Excuse yourself from the conversation by saying you have to hurry to see [insert your REAL name here]. You heard there was a party on their yacht because [insert your REAL name here] won lotto.

How can I make him eat his banana?

2012-02-17T13:17:00.000-08:00

Dear Angry Agony Aunt

My husband Matt (please don’t use his real name), does somethig weird with banana's. To ‘successfully’ eat one, he has to peel it in to four equal segments. If the banana peel is uneven to the naked eye, he can’t eat it. So on the ocassions when he does peel unevenly, I'm forced to eat it. If I don't, it's left on the kitchen counter to go all black and feral. How can I make him eat his banana?

Did you know this before you married him? If so, I have limited sympathy for you. But if this is a new introduction to your marriage, here’s some fake sympathy for you (awwww darling…), followed by some practical advice.

This surprising common problem can be fixed in a few ways.

- The most obvious fix is to recycle your banana. Get your banana recipe book out and start cooking, blending and baking. Banana smoothies, banana bread, banana custard, banana chocolate and peanut butter cream terrine, banana pancakes – all that.

- Limit his intake of banana. Limit it to birthdays, anniversaries and Christmas. (Ie, on the only days you have sex with him).

- Move next to a zoo and throw the banana’s over the back of the fence for the monkeys.

- Every time he does an ‘uneven peel’, convince him he hasn’t. If he resorts to bringing out a ruler, keep strong. Tell him over and over again each measurement is the same. Stare at the obviously uneven peel and repeat, ‘It’s the same, it’s the same, it’s the same’. Fight in to the night if you have to. Convince your friends and neighbours to do the same. Power in numbers.

But if all else fails, trump him with your own little 'fetish'. Start a sick addiction to Fish Milkshake Thursday’s. In my house I call it FMT. If anyone steps out of line, I just blend one up and give them a whiff. Nothing stops bad behaviour better than fishy milk.

Penis. Hate. Every Friday.

2012-01-21T17:08:00.000-08:00

Dear Angry Agony Aunt
I just read your post about 'what makes a perfect pair of breasts' and I'd like to know what a perfect penis looks like? All my ex-boyfriends tell me their penis was perfect but surely only one of them is right? If at all?

I say that a perfect penis is the kind of penis that isn’t on anyone’s forehead. It sounds like all your ex-boyfriends had one up there as well as one down there. It must have been awkward walking next to someone with a penis so visible. Sorry about that.

Dear Angry Agony Aunt,
Why does my Aunt hate me after I sung on stage?

I want to reassure you it’s because you’re a terrible singer but I think it’s more than that. I think your Aunt hates you because your mother (her sister) is a dirty, filthy whore. Your Aunt obviously busted your Mum pashing your Uncle backstage while you were butchering ‘New York, New York’. All the best Britney.

Dear Angry Agony Aunt,

My friend had lunch with this girl every Friday and my friend has now left the company. At his farewell drinks they both bullied me into becoming her new weekly lunch date. How do I get out of it?

Who needs enemies when you’ve got friends? Think about why your friend left the company in the first place. Sure, he said it was because he was offered more money somewhere else but I’m guessing the answer lays square on a Friday.

But having said that, you eat lunch right? You also eat lunch on a Friday? Well, I really don’t see what the problem is. Sure, you may be talked at for sixty minutes but I say suck it up. Enjoy the hour of being talked at. After all, it’s good practice for when you get married one day.

Cats, Porn and Fashion

2012-01-18T00:16:00.000-08:00

Dear Angry Agony Aunt

Help! How do I stop my two year old from constantly tormenting our cat?

Firstly your child needs to learn some serious lessons about life’s pecking order at home. It goes : cat, cat food, clean kitty litter tray, cat accessories, Mum, Dad then pesky children. It’s really as simple as that.

In my opinion, cats are the Kim Kardashian’s of the animal kingdom. They prance around with no real purpose other than to make you buy accessories for them. And just like a Kardashian, we’re not entirely sure what cats do when people aren’t watching.

But cheap shots aside, my advice is to let your little Timmy/Josephine torment away. Why? Because it’s just a matter of time when your child will stop tormenting the cat and will start tormenting you. My parents tell me that the tormenting NEVER stops. So for now, let Her Magesty Queen Furball take one for the team.

Dear Angry Agony Aunt,

I was walking down the street the other day and noticed a fashion tag poking out of the top of a lady's shirt (back of the neck). I tapped her on the shoulder and asked if I could tuck it back in. However, before she could respond, (to save embarrassment), I fixed it up and quickly moved on. I instantly felt guilty. Should I have fixed up her tag?

Look at that! A fashion question. And no fashion answer would be complete without the mention of Lady Gaga... So there, I've mentioned her.

What you need to understand is that people spend a lot of time and money looking dishevelled. Ripped jeans, holes in stockings and my personal favourite, excessive fake tan. So, maybe this 'tag poking' is just another fad?

You see, without fad's, fashion wouldn't be a billion dollar industry. It'd be much like having a porn industry with no bad story lines. And ironically, these two billion dollar industries are polar opposites. One industry works on the premise that clothes must be worn at all times and the other succeeds by making sure clothes are off at all times. And I don't mind that because there are clear defined lines. Unlike another billion dollar industry. The wedding dress industry.

This scam works on the sole premises that you have to spend forty thousand dollars to wear a dress once before it's ripped off you at the end of the night. Dress on. Dress off. Then after seven years, you can’t even flog it off on e-bay for $24.95 or turn it into a nice curtain set. What a rip off.

But should you have fixed her tag? No. Keep your hands to yourself, you pervert.

How do I tell my boyfriend I'm pregnant?

2012-01-14T23:47:00.000-08:00

Heya All

To celebrate one year of Angry Agony Aunt, I thought I’d become Mayor of Lazytown and get you to answer a question. If you’re a Facebook fan, you would have seen my post asking for answers (public and private) to the below question. All I can say is - thank goodness I’m the Angry Agony Aunt and you’re not. Also, I might do this again, so if you want to be involved next time, just ‘like’ the Angry Agony Aunt on Facebook. Enjoy. Or not.

Dear Angry Agony Aunt,

How do I tell my boyfriend I’m pregnant?

Lynette Martha Cavanough – Run like hell when you’re telling him!

Dimmity Dalton – I asked my husband this question (after you posted it on Facebook). He responded by asking, ‘Are you pregnant?’ I told him I wasn't and that it was just a question. He looked down at his crotch and said, ‘Thank god for dumb swimmers’, then left the room. He came back an hour later and said, ‘Hey, does that mean you have a boyfriend’?

Meg Babycuddles – I’d punch him in the face. He’d get the idea eventually.

Grovulus Grooney – Wait until you have an ultrasound photograph then Photoshop the boyfriend’s face onto the fetus and make it the new desktop background on his computer.

Maxwell Adams – My ex-girlfriend sent me a haiku type message. “You had sex with me quickly, now I’m throwing up, very soon I’ll be crowning.”

Gordon Jenkins – Just tell him, don’t be dishonest.

Rebecca Kerry – This happened to me and I sent my husband an Outlook calendar update to attend the birth (on my estimated due date). I was four days early so it wasn’t a bad guess!

Callum Fevola – I hope my girlfriend tells me it’s the milkman’s.

Sally Jaspen – We have four kids and when I fell pregnant with my fifth child, I said to my husband, ‘This time when they cut the cord, we’ll get the doctor to use the scissors on you. Two for one’.

Jeremy Brody – To avoid this kind of discussion, I ask my girlfriend to not talk to me at all. It works out well because she’s not that bright anyway.

Mimi Freeman – I think I’ll get Dad to tell him. I’ll leave it up to Dad to figure out how. No matter what Dad comes up with, it’ll be fun to watch.

Angry Agony Aunt – Don’t tell him. See how long it takes him to figure it out.

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

How do I tell him my name?

2012-01-05T18:42:00.000-08:00

Dear Angry Agony Aunt,

I started a new job three weeks ago and one of my co-workers keeps calling me Adele. That'd be fine but my name is Amanda. I don’t want to upset him because he’s been exceptionally nice but how do I tell him my name without hurting his feelings? I’m fast becoming the victim of sad wit - (the 'rolling in the deep' jokes are killing me).

From Amanda (or is it Adele?)

Dear 'A'

I think you’re in an enormous position of power. The best time you’ll ever have at work is when you first start. This is when all the staff (both male and female) turn in to male peacocks and strut around your work area shaking their tail feathers. They'll do a little dance and show you only their best and brightest colours. It's much like the early stages of dating but in your case, you get paid to turn up to this love-in. So I say, use it.

You see, this is the time where everyone is nicey-nice to you. Why? Because work is nothing more than collecting as many scapegoats as you can. Much like politics (and a very popular Wiggle's song), it's a numbers game...

Your co-workers will come running to your aid after you make your first REAL mistake. They say, ‘that’s fine, don't worry about it, you’re still learning’, as you're gathered in the assembly area watching the fire brigade put out the fire. They’ll give you a little side cuddle and say, ‘Hey, no big deal… in my last job, I slept with my boss’ wife… boy, that was a mistake…’.

Then later on, when they've figured out you've become someone elses scapegoat (traitor), the peacocks leave and your coworkers turn in to unnatural, scaly vermin with fire breathing capabilities. Behaviour includes - yelling at you for using the communal printer, scowling at you after you say 'good morning' and the very popular, cold shoulder treatment (but in some cases, having co-workers ignore you is actually a good thing). It's then you realise your once paid paradise oasis has turned into a cubical coffin.

So I say, let your co-worker call you Adele for as long as he likes.

But be proactive about it. Go to the store and buy fifty name tags with different names on them. Wear a different name tag every two weeks or so. This way, your co-worker will always think you’re the new person and you'll never become anyone's 'doe'.

What's your new year's resolution?

2011-12-30T21:51:00.000-08:00

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?

2011-12-18T02:38:00.000-08:00

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?

2011-12-03T23:24:00.000-08:00

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?

2011-11-26T04:10:00.000-08:00

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

2011-11-11T23:38:00.000-08:00

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?

2011-11-06T03:26:00.000-08:00

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?

2011-10-23T04:10:00.000-07:00

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?

2011-09-24T04:38:00.000-07:00

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'?

2011-09-10T02:33:00.000-07:00

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?

2011-09-03T03:57:00.000-07:00

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?

2011-08-28T02:53:00.000-07:00

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?

2011-08-19T03:03:00.000-07:00

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?

2011-08-14T04:58:00.000-07:00

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?

2011-08-06T03:45:00.000-07:00

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.

Why don't you include a quiz?

2011-08-01T03:53:00.000-07:00

Dear Angry Agony Aunt

I think your blog is okay - not great but okay. What do you think about including an interactive section? Maybe a quiz?

Sure, why not.

One point for each correct answer

1. What’s the background colour of Angry Agony Aunt?

2. How many posts have there been in 2011 (including this one)?

3. What is mutton?

4. How much do I charge for a boot?

5. In genealogy, what is an Aunty?

Two points for each correct answer

6. In Should I tell my friends I’ve won Lotto, which group sang “I’m in the money” as a voicemail message?

7. In How do I get a girl like that, what two traits do men need to have to be considered a real man?

8. What’s the new Facebook button I created?

9. True or False. In How do I get him to walk properly, the “Grapevine” was a suggested cure.

10. What skateboard catchphrase did I make up?

Three points for each correct answer

11. In How do I get him to go to school, what was the young boy’s billion dollar idea? (a) an automatic prawn peeler (b) a chain of strip-club convenience stores (c) bendable gutters

12. In Should I have corrected him, who was my arresting officer? (a) Senior Sergeant Tom Croyden (b) Senior Constable Perry McDonald (c) Constable Perry McWhirter

13. How many karma points do you get when you smack someone else's child? (a) -20 (b) +3 (c) 500 if the kid is a smartass

14. In What should I write in the card, name one of the things I suggested.

15. In Why do I put smilies in text messages, what movie was I subliminally quoting?

Scoring

1-4 = I think you have the wrong blog.

5–10 = Congratulations you can read.

10–14 = You scored higher than my boyfriend and if you’re like him, you didn’t even try.

15–20 = Congratulations, you scored as many as me.

21–24 = If you read my blog so much, will you pay for a subscription?

25–30 = Stop reading my blog for a while. Then come back when you get a life.

30+ = I’m sorry but you can’t count.

Now, if you have a question, send it through to me. angryauntis@gmail.com