Uncle Drago's agony column

[Pinno718]

Dear Unkal Tony Drago

Re.: Snookered

I find this all deeply concerning. If you scroll back only a few pages, you will see that gentleman stalkers like us up and down and across the land (and water) are having to do flips and twists to get a date. I mean, how many men must suffer road and scrotum rash, testicular disengagement, p40 cabinet paper, paraffin and wire brushes just to get some romance?
Are we in the era of prohibitive feminism?
Why are these woman folk so hard to please?
Why doesn't a Yugo snap knicker elastic at 500 yards like they used to?
Do I need to change gender?

So many questions, so little Prozac or Beta Blockers left. So many boxes of Viagra gathering dust.
So many flowers wilting.

I'm going to book myself into the Blue Hotel on the boulevard lonely where once it was a love highway with no red or amber - it was green all the way, cruising in an open top Yugo on a beautiful summer evening in Dagenham, the delicate aroma of a fresh coat of Hammarite and burning engine oil, a 6000watt stereo with pre amp, quad core 16 speaker system and graphic equalizer Every vessel and every bolt rivet quivering and vibrating to the sound of Barry White at full blast, the sheer anticipation of a mad, passionate she woman getting shipwrecked on your rock of love in a layby just off the A13 . The wind in the hair (I used to have) and the permanent Wigwam in the trousers...

Oh the memories. I can feel the tear of reminiscence welling up.

You remember those days, don't you? Will you offer a solution? Is there an end to the loneliness?

Yours
The disillusioned.

 

[Drago]

Dear Dizzy Gillespie,

I wellr emember those days. I will offer a solution, and there is an end to your lonliness.

What you need is a goodly helping of crack cocaine and a blow-up doll with a picture of Thora Hird's face attached.

No need top thank me.

 

[Pinno718]

Dear Dizzy Gillespie,

I wellr emember those days. I will offer a solution, and there is an end to your lonliness.

What you need is a goodly helping of crack cocaine and a blow-up doll with a picture of Thora Hird's face attached.

No need top thank me.

I won't. Definitely.

 

[Pinno718]

Dear Uncle Dragoon

I have hit a crisis point. It's an emergency.

Unfortunately, I couldn't rescue Liz the weather goddess.
I set off in a newly painted wheelbarrow. I found it near the railway tracks. I bolted a Briggs and Stratton mower engine to it and two wheels at the back and built a nifty side car out of proper corrugated cardboard and selotape. I put go faster stripes on it and strapped in a glove compartment made from a shoe box which I dutifully filled with condoms given to me at the STD clinic. I found a proper dustbin lid actually made out of actual metal and nailed it to a broom shaft for steering purposes. I even went so far as adding an extra fuel tank made from a plastic urine bottle I found in the hospital bins. It's amazing what you can find in there. I filled my lunch box with all sorts. My mate Johnny lent me his cassette player powered by 4 LR20's for banging tunes on my long journey south. I riveted a speaker to the chassis which doubled up as a seat. It looked the bollox. The cabriolet to end all cabriolets.
I had hope in my heart, lightness in my step and it was as if I was heading into the sun - the closer I got, the warmer and more brilliant it became.
But alas, whilst descending Shap fell in a torrential downpour whilst trying my best to draught a tractor, first my brake stick wore to a nub, then the soles of my Doctor Martens, Doctor Martens, Doctor Martens boots wore away. I glued an extra layer of rubber to the soles hewn by hand from a 205 x 55 15 ex caravan tyre as a back up but it quickly delaminated. Home made hide glue isn't as strong as I anticipated.
When my feet got a little bit warm, I said to myself 'sod it, i'm just going to put them up and bravely descend'. After all, this heroic crusade required heroic action.
Then it all went blurred and the sky caved in.

I awoke some time later with Meat Loaf's Bat out of Hell still ringing in my ears and a sheep looking down at me with a very puzzled expression. I noticed the hole in the stone dyke and the mangled, smoking wreck of my once glorious machine.

Still, you can't rescue them all.

So my attentions have turned to Jo Blythe. I have been watching her properly. She's lost a lot of weight and she needs rescuing and porridge, lots of porridge. I think the ITV directors are trying make her as thin as Lucy Verasamy in some sort of control/contract renewal blackmail/competition coercion tactic. It's terrible really.
I mean they don't bother in Scotland. We have the lovely and very robust Judith who's frame can hold up in even the strongest westerlies on the highest peaks on the slippiest slopes on moss covered granite with the wind and the sleet horizontal.

Jo needs rescuing and as soon as I get these damn itchy plaster casts off these limbs, i'll be in the design shed as quick as... as quick as a 12.5hp single cylinder mower engine coupled to a variomatic transmission system driven with nylon stockings can go.

I need to get to Manchester. I have this 4 wheeled barrow idea with a real plastic passenger seat. How do I crowd fund this new project?

Pinno
Carlisle Hospital, ward 5,, bed 6.

 

[tyred]

Dear Uncle Drago,

Would it be wise to consider a career change at my age?

I can't be bothered with so much travelling any more. It's such a rush to visit every house in one night once a year, and I got 2,315 speeding tickets in 789 different countries last night. It will cost quite a bit to get them all sorted. It's much harder these days too, the sleigh doesn't run so well now that there's less snow due to global warming and poor old Rudolph has got arthritis these days. A nice man called Delwas trying to sell me a used Reliant van, but I'm not so sure.

It also plays havoc with my lumbago climbing up and down chimneys whilst carrying a huge sack of toys. Then when I get home, Mrs. Claus hits me with the rolling pin as it takes her so long to get the soot out of my suit.

The doctor tells me my blood pressure is a bit high and I need to cut down on unhealthy foods, but it's difficult when you eat several billion mine pies in one night.

It also takes so much time to make the toys during the year. It is okay with things like bikes and rocking houses, but kids nowadays want iPads and things and having to solder them together plays havoc with my eyes as the parts are so small.

What sort of career options are open to me do you think? Or should I just struggle on? What can you suggest to make my job easier? Should I purchase the van from Mr. Trotter?

Yours faithfully,
Santa C.

 

[Drago]

Dear Satan,

I feel your pain. Years spent poking wrongdoers up the Jacksy with a red hot poker must really take its toll. An change is clearly required.

How about a job delivering presents to children at Christmas?

 

[tyred]

Dear Uncle Drago,

I've been having mixed success in my attempts to date that woman up the road. I still determined to win her over from that Dave.

Our date to see an Andy Stewart tribute act was going okay until she jumped up on stage and lifted up his kilt. The security people removed us, which was somewhat embarrassing. The theatre still want an apology, but I'm not sure what would be the right thing to say?

Then when we were driving home, I was demonstrating the raw power of my Yugo 55 and was foot to the board approaching 39 MPH when I hit an empty Coke tin that was on the road and the poor Yugo broke in half and we had to do all home.

Of course this meant I needed another car. With the possibility of romance in the air, I decided to buy something bigger than the Yugo. I found a lovely Hillman Hunter estate in lovely period shade of hearing aid beige.

So after a very pleasant drive to the coast for a picnic, demonstrating my culinary excellence by preparing corned beef sandwiches, we folded the seats down in a secluded spot and got down to business in the back of the Hunter estate. Unfortunately, I rolled over and got my private part stuck through a rust hole in the floor and couldn't get out again.

That woman up the road agreed to drive me to the hospital. Unfortunately, she's used to driving more modern cars with features like power steering and brakes, and made a little error of judgement in the hospital car park, and parked the Hillman on top of the reception desk, after writing off the chief cardiologist's Audi in the process.

So now I find myself in this embarrassing situation with my private parts stuck in the floor of my Hillman on top of the reception desk. The chief cardiologist is unhappy about the damage to his Audi and the receptionist is angry because we messed up her filing system. How can all this be explained?

Yours faithfully,
Aubrey

 

[Drago]

Dear Anus,

You've got to watch that Dave. Hes a sneaky one.

And what kind of maniac opens the taps on a powerhouse like a Yugo on a public road? Have you no regard for road safety? Don't even think about buying a Maxi 1500L, you'd be halfway across the galactic disc before you knew what was happening.

Still, I've looked into your case and I have good news to report about your space hoppers being wedged in the floor of the Hillman - its only an advisory, so youll still get a years MOT like that, although you might wish to paint them with underseal to disguise them.

 

[Pinno718]

Dear Uncle Drago,

Would it be wise to consider a career change at my age?

I can't be bothered with so much travelling any more. It's such a rush to visit every house in one night once a year, and I got 2,315 speeding tickets in 789 different countries last night. It will cost quite a bit to get them all sorted. It's much harder these days too, the sleigh doesn't run so well now that there's less snow due to global warming and poor old Rudolph has got arthritis these days. A nice man called Delwas trying to sell me a used Reliant van, but I'm not so sure.

It also plays havoc with my lumbago climbing up and down chimneys whilst carrying a huge sack of toys. Then when I get home, Mrs. Claus hits me with the rolling pin as it takes her so long to get the soot out of my suit.

The doctor tells me my blood pressure is a bit high and I need to cut down on unhealthy foods, but it's difficult when you eat several billion mine pies in one night.

It also takes so much time to make the toys during the year. It is okay with things like bikes and rocking houses, but kids nowadays want iPads and things and having to solder them together plays havoc with my eyes as the parts are so small.

What sort of career options are open to me do you think? Or should I just struggle on? What can you suggest to make my job easier? Should I purchase the van from Mr. Trotter?

Yours faithfully,
Santa C.

Personally, I think you should take your employer to court.

• No proper breaks (48hrs including the international date line is a long haul) which breaches working time regulations
• You must receive the same pay, benefits, training, and conditions as comparable permanent employees, unless the employer can prove a "good business reason"
• Insufficient/dated transport system which is no longer fit for purpose in contradiction of the Health and Safety at work act 1974. 51 years is a heck of a lot of compensation.
• Rudolf has rights: The main UK law for disabled old Deers is the Equality Act 2010, which prohibits discrimination and requires employers to make reasonable adjustments (like special equipment, flexible hours, or workplace changes) to help disabled Deers apply for, do, or stay in their jobs, preventing them from being substantially disadvantaged

Santa vs the Government(s) could be a long drawn out case taking years to reconcile and I think you have sufficient leverage to say that whilst this is going through the 789 courts, kiddies are not going to get any presents. This in itself should prompt rapid and conducive change.

I'm willing to represent you in a no win no wheelbarrow basis.

 

[Toshiba Boy]

Dear Unkie Drags

I have 2 ton of reindeer droppings all over me garden and what looks like skid marks (no, not those sorts Dragmeister) on me roof.

Also, the chimney flue appears to have been put under incredible stress, and is cracked all the way down to me lovely Woodburner, which appears to have been flattened.

Any idea who may be responsible, and what redress I may have.

Mr E Scrooge
69 Clitsome View

 

[Drago]

Dear Stooge,

I believe it is the fashion in 2025 to blame the previous government for everything, so Id pop round to Liz Truss and present her with the bill.

Best tie your ankle to the gate with a long rope before knocking though.

 

[tyred]

Dear Anus,

You've got to watch that Dave. Hes a sneaky one.

And what kind of maniac opens the taps on a powerhouse like a Yugo on a public road? Have you no regard for road safety? Don't even think about buying a Maxi 1500L, you'd be halfway across the galactic disc before you knew what was happening.

Still, I've looked into your case and I have good news to report about your space hoppers being wedged in the floor of the Hillman - its only an advisory, so youll still get a years MOT like that, although you might wish to paint them with underseal to disguise them.

Dear Uncle Drago,

With an MOT due very soon, and myself still trapped stuck in the boot, I got that woman up the road to take the Hillman to get some tyres fitted.

The guy at the tyre centre was a bit careless with the trolley jack, and missed the jacking point. He squeezed my todger up against the boot floor.

This was very painful but did help free me from being stuck in the car.

The problem is that with an injured member, I am sexually out of action until I recover from the jack incident. I am worried this will cause that woman up the road to look elsewhere.

What can I do to keep her interested?

Yours faithfully,
Aubrey

 

[Drago]

Dear Aunty,

Thats awful. Was the testers jack ok?

 

[Dave7]

Dear Uncle Drago.
I got a surprise phone call from that woman up the road who gave me some garbled chat about that Aubrey guy, something about a flattened member (member of what i wonder).
Anyway, she invited me for a meal. I say a meal, it was to be prawn cocktail, ever so fancy. She asked me if I could get a large cucumber and salad cream so being high tech I ordered it online to be delivered to her house.
The dozy guy a Tesco got it mixed up and the next thing was she phoned me up asking what she is supposed to do with a large cucumber and a tub off vaseline ??
I am at a loss.
So, oh wise one, do you have any suggestions I can pass on. I will of course claim any ideas to be mine.
Regards
Mr Todge.

 

[Drago]

Dear Miss Bodge,

Theres a layby on the A2 near Maidstone where a cucumber and a jar of vaseline would be fery welcome. She probably knows the one.