Saturday, 30 June 2007
Coming Soon...
After long hours of consultation with such astrological experts as Mystic Smeg and Jonathan Painer, we are preparing your horoscopes for the six months ahead. These will be FREE, at absolutely NO COST to you, although donations to the Agnes Needs New Tights fund is always appreciated (Reg. Charity No. 589373289).
Friday, 29 June 2007
SOSOTL Market Research Report
In light of MUBM’s recent research into SOTSOTL syndrome, Hex My Ex hired ace German Marketing Researchers, “Bugya-industreet” to discover what causes SOTSOTL to set in.
Over an intensive 37 minutes, their crack-head team consisting of Heimlich Maneouvre and Heidi Schnapps, asked two and a half unwilling volunteers to proffer their opinions on the causes of SOTSOTL and how it had happened for them.
For reasons of clarity, we will call the candidates A, B and C in providing their comprehensive responses and maintaining their anonymity:
1. What did you most hate about your ex?
A: She didn’t want a threesome.
B: He refused to get up to go to the toilet and would soil his underpants all the time on my settee.
C: I have never had a girlfriend.
2. What clothes did your ex wear which really used to annoy you?
A: Dresses, skirts, trousers, jeans, shirts, T-shirts, tops, suits…
B: His dirty undies.
C: I’ve never had a boyfriend, either.
3. Was there anything about your ex’s eating habits that annoyed you?
A: Well, there wasn’t much munching going on with her, I can tell you!
B: He would balance his sandwiches on his big fat belly and store cake in his beard to suck on later.
C: I don’t like this.
4. Did your ex ever employ a term of endearment for you, which you hated?
A: If she called me anything other than Stud Muffin, she would get a load of verbal.
B: Bitch.
C: Mum…Help!…there’s a weird lady talking to me. Tell her I’m only 42.
5. What was your ex’s worst habit?
A: Constantly having to visit her gynaecologist.
B: Scratching his dirty bottom and sniffing it.
C: Leave my Harold alone, you harlot!! Take that! And that!
6. What type of music did your ex play which annoyed you?
A: Anything that wasn’t played on my organ…
B: His kak klaxon music.
C: [silence]
7. Did your ex help around the house?
A: ‘Course she did. She helped me all the time. I’d sit and watch her clean while she was wearing her French maid’s outfit.
B: He helped to foul around it.
C: [silence]
8. What do you think about the recent SOTSOTL findings?
A: What? Don’t know what you’re on about. Now, bugger off - I have Stringfellows to run.
B: I wrote the report.
C: Would you like to come out on a date with me?
In conclusion, it is glaringly obvious that if you aren’t nymphomaniac with a penchant for company and need to wear clothes or you are a gruesome slob in every aspect of your life, SOTSOTL is likely to affect your relationship fairly dramatically and rather quickly. So, take a leaf out of Matt Chingduvé and Agnes Mildew’s books and dump your partners pretty quickly and take us out for a double date.
You can contact us anytime on 0898-Incontinence Problems 666. Be sure to leave a message if we are not there and we’ll get back to you if we can reverse the charges.
Over an intensive 37 minutes, their crack-head team consisting of Heimlich Maneouvre and Heidi Schnapps, asked two and a half unwilling volunteers to proffer their opinions on the causes of SOTSOTL and how it had happened for them.
For reasons of clarity, we will call the candidates A, B and C in providing their comprehensive responses and maintaining their anonymity:
1. What did you most hate about your ex?
A: She didn’t want a threesome.
B: He refused to get up to go to the toilet and would soil his underpants all the time on my settee.
C: I have never had a girlfriend.
2. What clothes did your ex wear which really used to annoy you?
A: Dresses, skirts, trousers, jeans, shirts, T-shirts, tops, suits…
B: His dirty undies.
C: I’ve never had a boyfriend, either.
3. Was there anything about your ex’s eating habits that annoyed you?
A: Well, there wasn’t much munching going on with her, I can tell you!
B: He would balance his sandwiches on his big fat belly and store cake in his beard to suck on later.
C: I don’t like this.
4. Did your ex ever employ a term of endearment for you, which you hated?
A: If she called me anything other than Stud Muffin, she would get a load of verbal.
B: Bitch.
C: Mum…Help!…there’s a weird lady talking to me. Tell her I’m only 42.
5. What was your ex’s worst habit?
A: Constantly having to visit her gynaecologist.
B: Scratching his dirty bottom and sniffing it.
C: Leave my Harold alone, you harlot!! Take that! And that!
6. What type of music did your ex play which annoyed you?
A: Anything that wasn’t played on my organ…
B: His kak klaxon music.
C: [silence]
7. Did your ex help around the house?
A: ‘Course she did. She helped me all the time. I’d sit and watch her clean while she was wearing her French maid’s outfit.
B: He helped to foul around it.
C: [silence]
8. What do you think about the recent SOTSOTL findings?
A: What? Don’t know what you’re on about. Now, bugger off - I have Stringfellows to run.
B: I wrote the report.
C: Would you like to come out on a date with me?
In conclusion, it is glaringly obvious that if you aren’t nymphomaniac with a penchant for company and need to wear clothes or you are a gruesome slob in every aspect of your life, SOTSOTL is likely to affect your relationship fairly dramatically and rather quickly. So, take a leaf out of Matt Chingduvé and Agnes Mildew’s books and dump your partners pretty quickly and take us out for a double date.
You can contact us anytime on 0898-Incontinence Problems 666. Be sure to leave a message if we are not there and we’ll get back to you if we can reverse the charges.
Ask Agnes
Auntie Agnes
I am single, but have recently wanted to start dating again. A man at work who I quite liked asked me out on a date, and I agreed. However, he turned up wearing a corduroy suit which is a big no-no in anybody’s book. When I asked him to take them off, he got the wrong idea and we both got arrested on obscenity charges. After a few weeks of anger, I’ve agreed to date him again. Do you have any tips on how I can totally ruin his life on the next date? I can only think of pulling his wig off, slapping his bald head and singing ballads from South Pacific.
Yours
Mabel Fable-Table
Dear Mabel Fable-Table,
What a dreadful situation for you, and how painful it must have been when he turned up in corduroy. I think I would have pretended that you were a Care in the Community case. That would have confused him greatly and he would have run a mile.
Anyway, that is beside the point. Didn't your Uncle Albert ever tell you not to screw the crew? It is a big no-no because if you don't get it on in the bedroom area, how are you going to face him at work the next day? I could tell you a few stories about the excommunicated priest I got jiggy with and how, when I dumped him, he decided to tell everyone in the office about the time we were in bed with a rhi...
So, how to get your own back on this nasty piece of work. OK, he is a wig-wearer. What you need to do is get down to the Red Light district of Moss Side and see if you can find any merkin-wearing prostitutes. Make sure the lady of the night in question is one of very dubious character and is repeatedly scratching her groin.
Agree to meet him again and this time, no matter what he is wearing (you can get it whipped off in no time at all), get cosy with him. After he has 'performed' and is snoring like a fat-headed old hippo, remove his wig, smear his chrome dome with Super Glue and stick on afore-said dirty merkin. The itching and smell will wake him up very soon. Ensure you have called Rentokil and they are there, ready and waiting with their fumigators. And let them rip!
He won't ever want to see you again...for the simple reason that the chemicals will have blinded him.
Hope this is of some help to you, Mabel, but if not, I don't really care that much.
Agnes x
I am single, but have recently wanted to start dating again. A man at work who I quite liked asked me out on a date, and I agreed. However, he turned up wearing a corduroy suit which is a big no-no in anybody’s book. When I asked him to take them off, he got the wrong idea and we both got arrested on obscenity charges. After a few weeks of anger, I’ve agreed to date him again. Do you have any tips on how I can totally ruin his life on the next date? I can only think of pulling his wig off, slapping his bald head and singing ballads from South Pacific.
Yours
Mabel Fable-Table
Dear Mabel Fable-Table,
What a dreadful situation for you, and how painful it must have been when he turned up in corduroy. I think I would have pretended that you were a Care in the Community case. That would have confused him greatly and he would have run a mile.
Anyway, that is beside the point. Didn't your Uncle Albert ever tell you not to screw the crew? It is a big no-no because if you don't get it on in the bedroom area, how are you going to face him at work the next day? I could tell you a few stories about the excommunicated priest I got jiggy with and how, when I dumped him, he decided to tell everyone in the office about the time we were in bed with a rhi...
So, how to get your own back on this nasty piece of work. OK, he is a wig-wearer. What you need to do is get down to the Red Light district of Moss Side and see if you can find any merkin-wearing prostitutes. Make sure the lady of the night in question is one of very dubious character and is repeatedly scratching her groin.
Agree to meet him again and this time, no matter what he is wearing (you can get it whipped off in no time at all), get cosy with him. After he has 'performed' and is snoring like a fat-headed old hippo, remove his wig, smear his chrome dome with Super Glue and stick on afore-said dirty merkin. The itching and smell will wake him up very soon. Ensure you have called Rentokil and they are there, ready and waiting with their fumigators. And let them rip!
He won't ever want to see you again...for the simple reason that the chemicals will have blinded him.
Hope this is of some help to you, Mabel, but if not, I don't really care that much.
Agnes x
Thursday, 28 June 2007
Welcome to Poet's Corner
By popular demand, Sir Matthew Bartholemew Spartacus (IV) Chingduvé and myself, The Right Hon. Agnes Petticoat Bandage Shirley Mildew have been asked to write some poetry. We have given it our best shot. In the spirit of things, we have kept it completely evil and bitter, so we are sure you will appreciate our attempts. For reasons of revenge, no names have been altered...
An Ode To My Former Bosses...
Brenda was my one-time boss,
She sacked me, but that was her definite loss.
Opposite to me she sat
Eating her ear-wax, the dirty cow.
Marcio was her husband’s name,
And telling whoppers was his game.
Like all the ladies fancied him
And how much weight he’d lost at the gym.
Marcio's breath reminded me
Of blocked up toilets - poo and wee
He didn't seem to give a toss
That we all gave him some mouthwash
But in the building, we all knew,
That Brenda didn’t have a clue.
Cos her spouse was off a-wandering
To websites just to have a fling.
On Date.com his profile lay,
He wanted girls – he wasn’t gay.
He made out that he was ‘well hard’
Far from our beliefs – a total retard.
But could he get a gal? No chance.
Cos Brenda, see, she wore the pants.
And when he hinted thrice to me
That he was available as could be
And when I knocked him back forthwith
He bleated off to his Missus.
She took the hump and told me straight.
Young lady, there’s the office gate.
A final drink of tea I made,
Especially for those two shades.
A special mix of snot and goo
And forty laxatives, not one or two…
I hope they got the screaming shites,
And go to bed, afeared at nights,
In case I come to haunt them more
With Flaming Pasties at their door…
Unfortunately, Sir Matthew Bartholemew Spartacus (IV) Chingduvé is unable to contribute at this present moment in time due to a temporary disturbance in his fingers as he is blind drunk and has passed out over the keyboard. Normal service will be resumed shortly, once he has woken up and taken his laxatives.
An Ode To My Former Bosses...
Brenda was my one-time boss,
She sacked me, but that was her definite loss.
Opposite to me she sat
Eating her ear-wax, the dirty cow.
Marcio was her husband’s name,
And telling whoppers was his game.
Like all the ladies fancied him
And how much weight he’d lost at the gym.
Marcio's breath reminded me
Of blocked up toilets - poo and wee
He didn't seem to give a toss
That we all gave him some mouthwash
But in the building, we all knew,
That Brenda didn’t have a clue.
Cos her spouse was off a-wandering
To websites just to have a fling.
On Date.com his profile lay,
He wanted girls – he wasn’t gay.
He made out that he was ‘well hard’
Far from our beliefs – a total retard.
But could he get a gal? No chance.
Cos Brenda, see, she wore the pants.
And when he hinted thrice to me
That he was available as could be
And when I knocked him back forthwith
He bleated off to his Missus.
She took the hump and told me straight.
Young lady, there’s the office gate.
A final drink of tea I made,
Especially for those two shades.
A special mix of snot and goo
And forty laxatives, not one or two…
I hope they got the screaming shites,
And go to bed, afeared at nights,
In case I come to haunt them more
With Flaming Pasties at their door…
Unfortunately, Sir Matthew Bartholemew Spartacus (IV) Chingduvé is unable to contribute at this present moment in time due to a temporary disturbance in his fingers as he is blind drunk and has passed out over the keyboard. Normal service will be resumed shortly, once he has woken up and taken his laxatives.
One for the girls!
Good evening Hexers,
I was most impressed by Matt’s info-blog on the dating site, interrodate, and have realised that you gurlies out there need to know what to expect. It’s all very well Uncle Matt telling you that all the women are prostitutes and nutters…what about the blokes who lurk on there, too?
Well, Auntie Agnes can now reveal all.
As soon as you upload a name, if it appears even vaguely feminine, the men will besiege you. This is before you have had the chance to devise your questionnaire, work out what the hell you want to ask, and work out whether you actually care. Many men will presume you are hot to trot and will come straight out with, Fancy meeting up for a shag, LOL? (Actually, that is way too literate, they would actually write, Wana shag LOL…and omit the question mark, because they are retards.)
You may like to take a peek at some of their questions, which generally require a ‘yes’/’no’ response. If you are feeling really excited, have a go at answering them with a bit of acerbic badinage. These are my top ten favourites:
10. Do you like golfers?
Answer: Do I care?
9. If I corted you with roses and chocolates, would you think I was romantic (yes) or after something (no).
Answer: I would think you were a retard because you cannot spell.
8. Sunbathe (yes) or skiing (no).
Answer: I only like to sunbathe when it is chucking it down with rain, and skiing is best done in July.
7. What would you prefer, a rich, stupid man (yes) or a poor intelligent man (no).
Answer ‘yes’ every time. Who wouldn’t want a rich thickie at her beck and call? I ask you…This guy is obviously a bit thick, so he might also be rich – chat him up…
6. Would you scrap the ice off my car windscreen in the winter (yes) or would you find an excuse not to do it (no)?
Answer: If you want me to ‘scrap’ the ice off your car windscreen, I can easily find a dirty big brick and lob it through. It’d soon be considered ‘scrap’. Obviously, this bloke wants a skivvy. Avoid.
5. If someone was havin a friendly flirt with me or me with them, would this upset you?
Answer: Would it upset you if I took your best mate into the bogs under your nose and gave him a jolly good seeing to? This guy wants to have his cake and eat it…fool.
4. I have kids. Do you mind?
Answer: Mind your own bloody kids, mate – get a babysitter .
3. Do you like Jade Goody and agree with her actions and conversations and opinions on celeb big brother?
Answer: I didn’t even realise Jade Goody had enough brain cells to be able to form an opinion, actually.
2. Do you think I’m good-looking?
Answer: No. Anybody fat-headed enough to ask that type of question simply deserves to be put down.
1. Now that you have answered all of my questions, does the fact that I am married put you off? Answer: I have contacted HexMyEx and they are currently in negotiations with your soon-to-be ex-wife, loser.
I think, on the whole, there are two men on interrodate who have a modicum of intelligence. One is Uncle Matt. The other is my Dad.
Agnes Mildew is a recognised member of interrodate. Should you wish to chat her up, please ensure that you use good England in yor ansas 2 her utherwiz she is lickly to blow u out.
I was most impressed by Matt’s info-blog on the dating site, interrodate, and have realised that you gurlies out there need to know what to expect. It’s all very well Uncle Matt telling you that all the women are prostitutes and nutters…what about the blokes who lurk on there, too?
Well, Auntie Agnes can now reveal all.
As soon as you upload a name, if it appears even vaguely feminine, the men will besiege you. This is before you have had the chance to devise your questionnaire, work out what the hell you want to ask, and work out whether you actually care. Many men will presume you are hot to trot and will come straight out with, Fancy meeting up for a shag, LOL? (Actually, that is way too literate, they would actually write, Wana shag LOL…and omit the question mark, because they are retards.)
You may like to take a peek at some of their questions, which generally require a ‘yes’/’no’ response. If you are feeling really excited, have a go at answering them with a bit of acerbic badinage. These are my top ten favourites:
10. Do you like golfers?
Answer: Do I care?
9. If I corted you with roses and chocolates, would you think I was romantic (yes) or after something (no).
Answer: I would think you were a retard because you cannot spell.
8. Sunbathe (yes) or skiing (no).
Answer: I only like to sunbathe when it is chucking it down with rain, and skiing is best done in July.
7. What would you prefer, a rich, stupid man (yes) or a poor intelligent man (no).
Answer ‘yes’ every time. Who wouldn’t want a rich thickie at her beck and call? I ask you…This guy is obviously a bit thick, so he might also be rich – chat him up…
6. Would you scrap the ice off my car windscreen in the winter (yes) or would you find an excuse not to do it (no)?
Answer: If you want me to ‘scrap’ the ice off your car windscreen, I can easily find a dirty big brick and lob it through. It’d soon be considered ‘scrap’. Obviously, this bloke wants a skivvy. Avoid.
5. If someone was havin a friendly flirt with me or me with them, would this upset you?
Answer: Would it upset you if I took your best mate into the bogs under your nose and gave him a jolly good seeing to? This guy wants to have his cake and eat it…fool.
4. I have kids. Do you mind?
Answer: Mind your own bloody kids, mate – get a babysitter .
3. Do you like Jade Goody and agree with her actions and conversations and opinions on celeb big brother?
Answer: I didn’t even realise Jade Goody had enough brain cells to be able to form an opinion, actually.
2. Do you think I’m good-looking?
Answer: No. Anybody fat-headed enough to ask that type of question simply deserves to be put down.
1. Now that you have answered all of my questions, does the fact that I am married put you off? Answer: I have contacted HexMyEx and they are currently in negotiations with your soon-to-be ex-wife, loser.
I think, on the whole, there are two men on interrodate who have a modicum of intelligence. One is Uncle Matt. The other is my Dad.
Agnes Mildew is a recognised member of interrodate. Should you wish to chat her up, please ensure that you use good England in yor ansas 2 her utherwiz she is lickly to blow u out.
Wednesday, 27 June 2007
We're gonna getcha!
Dearest Agnes
Please help as I don’t know what to do.
My wife went away to visit relatives in Manchester about 6 months ago, and has not returned since. I’m beginning to think she might not be coming back.
I have run out of clean clothes to wear. Somebody told me about a thing called a ‘washing machine’ that may help with this, but I have no idea what it looks like. Also, the toilet is really whiffy and the bath - well, I’m cleaner BEFORE I use it. Most of my friends have stopped coming round, saying they’re fed up with wiping their feet on the way out.
Do you think I have a problem, or is this normal. I weigh 28 stone.
Yours sincerely
Peter Enis
P.S. Actually, make that 29 stone. I’ve eaten the Cat.
Dear Peter,
I have located your wife for you and she has told me to tell you that she has run off with your next door neighbour’s wife and they are growing hemp seed on the Isle of Man.
So, fat boy, you might as well get over it now. She ain’t coming back, and as she has now hired HexMyEx’s services, you had better get a change of address and some cosmetic surgery because we are out looking for a fat, lardy boy who stinks to high heaven and has a cat’s tail sticking out of his bottom.
If the cat is causing bowel blockages, simply take 10 Dulcolax. They will shift you – I recommend them for all forms of constipation.
Hope this is of some help to you,
Agnes.
PS. If you would like to try any other forms of laxative, visit this online shop.
Please help as I don’t know what to do.
My wife went away to visit relatives in Manchester about 6 months ago, and has not returned since. I’m beginning to think she might not be coming back.
I have run out of clean clothes to wear. Somebody told me about a thing called a ‘washing machine’ that may help with this, but I have no idea what it looks like. Also, the toilet is really whiffy and the bath - well, I’m cleaner BEFORE I use it. Most of my friends have stopped coming round, saying they’re fed up with wiping their feet on the way out.
Do you think I have a problem, or is this normal. I weigh 28 stone.
Yours sincerely
Peter Enis
P.S. Actually, make that 29 stone. I’ve eaten the Cat.
Dear Peter,
I have located your wife for you and she has told me to tell you that she has run off with your next door neighbour’s wife and they are growing hemp seed on the Isle of Man.
So, fat boy, you might as well get over it now. She ain’t coming back, and as she has now hired HexMyEx’s services, you had better get a change of address and some cosmetic surgery because we are out looking for a fat, lardy boy who stinks to high heaven and has a cat’s tail sticking out of his bottom.
If the cat is causing bowel blockages, simply take 10 Dulcolax. They will shift you – I recommend them for all forms of constipation.
Hope this is of some help to you,
Agnes.
PS. If you would like to try any other forms of laxative, visit this online shop.
Ferrets, Fools and Futility
Dear Auntie Agnes
Plz can u hlp me cos my m8 sez u r good.
My gf has left cos she is sick of txt spk. I say she div lol
Can u help
Luv
Richard
Dear Richard,
Or may I call you Dick, considering you like to shorten everything?
The conundrum surrounding ‘Text Speak’is that it causes a terminal case of aprosexia to set in, which is probably affecting your grandma’s ferret – I assume this is what you mean by gf?
Ferrets are highly intelligent, xeric creatures, which cannot be doing with desipient meanderings of a dandiprat, such as you.
Obviously, the problem is becoming ingravescent and I would suggest that you take up a hobby such as the study of orthoptera or Euplexoptera or perhaps try out a bit of stegophily. My own personal hobby is notaphily and I am always grateful if a correspondent sends me a new item for my collection.
There is always the chance that your grandma has become constipated and is forcing her ferret to become nucivorous, attempting to recreate a sort of sympathetic catharsis of bowel movements?
Ferrets do not like this food stuff, preferring Richard Whiteley’s digits instead, but as Richard is now six feet under, perhaps you could find another Dick to take his place?
For this ferret to refer to you as ‘div’ not only indicates enormous intelligence in that she understands ASCII text files, but that she can orate it as well, is quite ultrafidian!
Get her in the circus, Dick!
Love, Auntie Agnes.
Plz can u hlp me cos my m8 sez u r good.
My gf has left cos she is sick of txt spk. I say she div lol
Can u help
Luv
Richard
Dear Richard,
Or may I call you Dick, considering you like to shorten everything?
The conundrum surrounding ‘Text Speak’is that it causes a terminal case of aprosexia to set in, which is probably affecting your grandma’s ferret – I assume this is what you mean by gf?
Ferrets are highly intelligent, xeric creatures, which cannot be doing with desipient meanderings of a dandiprat, such as you.
Obviously, the problem is becoming ingravescent and I would suggest that you take up a hobby such as the study of orthoptera or Euplexoptera or perhaps try out a bit of stegophily. My own personal hobby is notaphily and I am always grateful if a correspondent sends me a new item for my collection.
There is always the chance that your grandma has become constipated and is forcing her ferret to become nucivorous, attempting to recreate a sort of sympathetic catharsis of bowel movements?
Ferrets do not like this food stuff, preferring Richard Whiteley’s digits instead, but as Richard is now six feet under, perhaps you could find another Dick to take his place?
For this ferret to refer to you as ‘div’ not only indicates enormous intelligence in that she understands ASCII text files, but that she can orate it as well, is quite ultrafidian!
Get her in the circus, Dick!
Love, Auntie Agnes.
By popular demand, many of you have been asking where I learned such wise counselling skills. Well, I studied for my CSE in metalwork at Blubberhouses Tech and gained grade 3. I then went on to work on the fish counter at Tesco, where I became adept at gutting haddock. I think this proves that I am both intelligent and empathetic.
Tuesday, 26 June 2007
Ten Top Tips to Get Pay-Back! Instalment Two
Hello there, thwarted exes,
Here is the instalment you've all been waiting for, the second five revenge tips to get back at he-who-no-longer-must-be-obeyed...
6. Send him a package containing flour in a tightly sealed, clear plastic bag. Attach a note to it saying, "Contains Anthrax, your days are numbered!!!", but try to spell it badly otherwise he will realise it is from you, being a Superior Person like myself. Try to get hold of the CCTV tapes of him opening it when he realises that he might just be about to snuff it. Even when he realises it is just a wicked, evil prank, the look on his face will have given you enjoyment for many weeks to come.
7. If he hasn't yet cleared off, but you suspect things are about to go belly-up, make him his favourite meal, wear something fetching, light the candles and sit him down for Pork Casserole a la Lactulose Syrup. That safety cap just will not stay on, will it? Woops, a whole bottle of laxative syrup has just fallen into that lovely stew. When he asks why you aren't having any, tell him you are a vegetarian and the fact he has forgotten this just indicates to you how much he really cares...
8. Go to his offices and flirt outrageously with his female secretary. She will find this most disconcerting, but it will make him feel completely inadequate.
9. After he has kicked you out of his lurv pad for the last time and moved his floozy in, call him and tell him you want to get all of your things back that you bought for him over the last few years. Take a bag of fresh fish from the supermarket along with you. While he leaves you to get on with your packing, insert the fish into the following places: under the mattress; behind the cooker or fridge; in the boiler cupboard behind the tank; behind the radiator in the spare bedroom; remove the panel from the side of the bath and leave the biggest flounder there. Seal bath panel back up...
10. When he asks for his engagement ring back, gladly offer it up to him. Tell him you'll deliver it to his house the following day. Upon arrival, greet him with a beaming smile and promptly swallow the ring. Tell him it may take a few days for you to arrange to return it properly. When it turns up (comes out!), make sure the package is well sealed, in a cardboard box and have it delivered to his work address.
I hope that these are of some help to you. If you can think of any better ones, I would love to hear from you!
Here is the instalment you've all been waiting for, the second five revenge tips to get back at he-who-no-longer-must-be-obeyed...
6. Send him a package containing flour in a tightly sealed, clear plastic bag. Attach a note to it saying, "Contains Anthrax, your days are numbered!!!", but try to spell it badly otherwise he will realise it is from you, being a Superior Person like myself. Try to get hold of the CCTV tapes of him opening it when he realises that he might just be about to snuff it. Even when he realises it is just a wicked, evil prank, the look on his face will have given you enjoyment for many weeks to come.
7. If he hasn't yet cleared off, but you suspect things are about to go belly-up, make him his favourite meal, wear something fetching, light the candles and sit him down for Pork Casserole a la Lactulose Syrup. That safety cap just will not stay on, will it? Woops, a whole bottle of laxative syrup has just fallen into that lovely stew. When he asks why you aren't having any, tell him you are a vegetarian and the fact he has forgotten this just indicates to you how much he really cares...
8. Go to his offices and flirt outrageously with his female secretary. She will find this most disconcerting, but it will make him feel completely inadequate.
9. After he has kicked you out of his lurv pad for the last time and moved his floozy in, call him and tell him you want to get all of your things back that you bought for him over the last few years. Take a bag of fresh fish from the supermarket along with you. While he leaves you to get on with your packing, insert the fish into the following places: under the mattress; behind the cooker or fridge; in the boiler cupboard behind the tank; behind the radiator in the spare bedroom; remove the panel from the side of the bath and leave the biggest flounder there. Seal bath panel back up...
10. When he asks for his engagement ring back, gladly offer it up to him. Tell him you'll deliver it to his house the following day. Upon arrival, greet him with a beaming smile and promptly swallow the ring. Tell him it may take a few days for you to arrange to return it properly. When it turns up (comes out!), make sure the package is well sealed, in a cardboard box and have it delivered to his work address.
I hope that these are of some help to you. If you can think of any better ones, I would love to hear from you!
Monday, 25 June 2007
Dear Agnes
Dear Agnes
I found your blog whilst searching for bitter, angry and slightly over the top break up stories. I feel this is the way I am going to go if I cannot solve this problem in my love life and thought you'd understand, or at least help me.
My husband and I have always enjoyed a normal sex life (apart from the Chicken incident), but just recently he has been avoiding me at bedtime hours. I must admit I felt a fool when I remembered he was working a night shift!
However, my real problem, apart from blind stupidity, is that I've recently discovered my hubby has been with another woman, and has been keeping her locked in the spare room where he likes to spend a lot of his free time 'reading' and 'relaxing'. It has got to the point now where she's hungry and thirsty and needs the toilet. Please help me to deal with this other woman!
Linda, Staines
Auntie Agnes replies:
Dear Linda,
First of all, you must make this woman up some nice, wholesome chicken broth, despite your concerns about the Chicken Incident. That's in the past, and we mustn't dwell there, otherwise, we'd still be poo-ing in our nappies, wouldn't we? She needs to be fed, otherwise she will die, and I know about this and am not afraid to squeal darling, unless you call 0898-ArseholesAnon for only £15.76/minute to hear my latest weather forecast.
I think you are being rather unfair to your husband in some ways, as the poor man requires some respite from his night shift, down in the red light district (or so he told me) and your incessant nagging is just going to keep driving him there. I think he is probably just constipated to be honest with you. Buy him some liquorice.
Have you thought about getting a frontal labotomy? They are quite inexpensive these days...
Has this been of any help, dear? If not, do not hesitate to call Samaritans. They are open 24 hours per day, unlike me, who is available during the hours of 12-1pm on Tuesdays when there is an 'x' in the month.
Due to Popular Demand...Your Problems Answered!
It would appear that many of you are struggling with relationship problems, even before you have become a thwarted ex.
So, due to popular demand, Matt Chingduvé and myself, Agnes Mildew are taking on our avuncular and materteral roles to aid you with your problems. Our first query this evening came from Slippery Suzie who writes:
Dear Auntie Agnes
I have been with my boyfriend for five years. I have been noticing recently that he has been coming late from work with lipstick and creosote all over him. He works in the city, and has a good job, but I can't help thinking he's messing about with transvestite council workers. I confronted him, but he got angry and started flicking frozen peas about the room. Please help me.
Auntie Agnes replies:
Dear Suzie,
Don't worry about this, your boyfriend is obviously going through a new stage in his life where he is experimenting with new lubricants. Didn't you know that lipstick contains whale blubber? One of the best lubricants in the universe. He is obviously constipated which is why he is fixated with pea flicking. It reminds him of his inferior bowel movements at the moment.
If you wish to discuss this further with me, please call 0898-ArseholesAnon. Calls will cost only £15.76 per minute and last a maximum of two hours.
So, due to popular demand, Matt Chingduvé and myself, Agnes Mildew are taking on our avuncular and materteral roles to aid you with your problems. Our first query this evening came from Slippery Suzie who writes:
Dear Auntie Agnes
I have been with my boyfriend for five years. I have been noticing recently that he has been coming late from work with lipstick and creosote all over him. He works in the city, and has a good job, but I can't help thinking he's messing about with transvestite council workers. I confronted him, but he got angry and started flicking frozen peas about the room. Please help me.
Auntie Agnes replies:
Dear Suzie,
Don't worry about this, your boyfriend is obviously going through a new stage in his life where he is experimenting with new lubricants. Didn't you know that lipstick contains whale blubber? One of the best lubricants in the universe. He is obviously constipated which is why he is fixated with pea flicking. It reminds him of his inferior bowel movements at the moment.
If you wish to discuss this further with me, please call 0898-ArseholesAnon. Calls will cost only £15.76 per minute and last a maximum of two hours.
Ten Top Tips to Get Pay-Back! Instalment One
Some of you may be wondering, What's all this hexing about? When are we going to get into the downright bitter, nasty, let's dish the dirt on the ex stuff...Well, OK, I shall titillate your senses a little to give you a foretaste of what is to come on the HexMyEx website when it is launched.
I shall be writing things from the female's point of view and no doubt, my friend and collaborator Matt Chingduvé will ably assist from the male's side.
So, how do we hex our exes, girls? How do we curse that rat and get our own backs once and for all? Well, I shall give you my top ten tips, five today, five tomorrow...(some of these can also be applied to nasty bosses, male or female, too)
1.If you have the misfortune to be dating a married man and you suspect his plaintive cries of “She just doesn't understand me like you do” are a pile of poo, particularly when you bump into his work colleagues who have just been out with him to wet his new baby's head, you must slip a sealed envelope into his jacket pocket for his wife to find next time she puts a delicates wash on, which has emblazoned all over the front, Gonorrhea, Here Today Burra Gonna Termorrer. Open Now for Your Test Result! Inside, ensure that there is a professional-looking letter, addressed to the cheating two-timer stating that his gonorrhea has been found mainly in the anal area (make sure you smear some cochineal on his undies) and requires further rectal examinations forthwith.
2.Pick up a mucky dirty wino off the streets and treat him to a few burgers and chips, mash up lots of carrots and turnips to smear over the fast food. Treat the wino to a bottle of meths and then drag him over to your ex's new car. While the wino stands around bewildered, wondering what is going on, ply him with sickly chocolate cake. The wino will then vomit violently all over the car and with all the meths hurtling out, the paint will strip off his car faster than you can say Lady Boys of Bangkok. Give the wino a fiver so he can go and buy 48 cans of Carling Black Label and tell him, Same time, same place, next week.
3.I am reliably informed by Matt that this next curse is called the Flaming Pasty, but basically what you do is gather up some fresh dog poo (cat is better as it smells so foul and is much more viscous, but it's quantity over quality, I'm afraid), wrap it loosely in some old newspaper, and place it on his doorstep. Squirt a bit of lighter fuel on it, casually drop a lit match on top, ring the doorbell and leg it. Hide behind some bushes and enjoy the spectacle of your ex attempting to put out the package by stamping furiously on it. If the poo is fresh enough, he may vomit; he will probably retch...he will certainly stink as if something has crawled up his bottom and died.
4.Get a photograph of him and upload it onto a dating website. List his hobbies as toad-sexing, train-spotting, trying to cure his impotence and knitting cardigans. Give his vital statistics as 5'1”; weight 240lb; hair: plenty in the ears and nose; eyes: blind; pets: cockroaches; Likes: playing with rubber ducks in puddles, picking his nose and eating it, putting earwigs down his underpants, and scratching his bum, then sniffing it. Dislikes: intelligent, sexy, vibrant, honest women - obviously, that's why he dumped you...Email the link to all his friends and work colleagues anonymously.
5.Send him a subscription to Playgirl magazine or Fistf*ckers International and have it sent to his work address.
More utterly evil, twisted thoughts from me tomorrow, but in the meantime, I shall hand you over to Sir Matt...
I shall be writing things from the female's point of view and no doubt, my friend and collaborator Matt Chingduvé will ably assist from the male's side.
So, how do we hex our exes, girls? How do we curse that rat and get our own backs once and for all? Well, I shall give you my top ten tips, five today, five tomorrow...(some of these can also be applied to nasty bosses, male or female, too)
1.If you have the misfortune to be dating a married man and you suspect his plaintive cries of “She just doesn't understand me like you do” are a pile of poo, particularly when you bump into his work colleagues who have just been out with him to wet his new baby's head, you must slip a sealed envelope into his jacket pocket for his wife to find next time she puts a delicates wash on, which has emblazoned all over the front, Gonorrhea, Here Today Burra Gonna Termorrer. Open Now for Your Test Result! Inside, ensure that there is a professional-looking letter, addressed to the cheating two-timer stating that his gonorrhea has been found mainly in the anal area (make sure you smear some cochineal on his undies) and requires further rectal examinations forthwith.
2.Pick up a mucky dirty wino off the streets and treat him to a few burgers and chips, mash up lots of carrots and turnips to smear over the fast food. Treat the wino to a bottle of meths and then drag him over to your ex's new car. While the wino stands around bewildered, wondering what is going on, ply him with sickly chocolate cake. The wino will then vomit violently all over the car and with all the meths hurtling out, the paint will strip off his car faster than you can say Lady Boys of Bangkok. Give the wino a fiver so he can go and buy 48 cans of Carling Black Label and tell him, Same time, same place, next week.
3.I am reliably informed by Matt that this next curse is called the Flaming Pasty, but basically what you do is gather up some fresh dog poo (cat is better as it smells so foul and is much more viscous, but it's quantity over quality, I'm afraid), wrap it loosely in some old newspaper, and place it on his doorstep. Squirt a bit of lighter fuel on it, casually drop a lit match on top, ring the doorbell and leg it. Hide behind some bushes and enjoy the spectacle of your ex attempting to put out the package by stamping furiously on it. If the poo is fresh enough, he may vomit; he will probably retch...he will certainly stink as if something has crawled up his bottom and died.
4.Get a photograph of him and upload it onto a dating website. List his hobbies as toad-sexing, train-spotting, trying to cure his impotence and knitting cardigans. Give his vital statistics as 5'1”; weight 240lb; hair: plenty in the ears and nose; eyes: blind; pets: cockroaches; Likes: playing with rubber ducks in puddles, picking his nose and eating it, putting earwigs down his underpants, and scratching his bum, then sniffing it. Dislikes: intelligent, sexy, vibrant, honest women - obviously, that's why he dumped you...Email the link to all his friends and work colleagues anonymously.
5.Send him a subscription to Playgirl magazine or Fistf*ckers International and have it sent to his work address.
More utterly evil, twisted thoughts from me tomorrow, but in the meantime, I shall hand you over to Sir Matt...
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Sunday, 24 June 2007
Opposites Attract?
Special feature by guest blogger and terminal singleton, Matt Chingduvé.
Hi there. Nice to be with you.
If, like myself, you often find yourself designing cutlery for Goldfish, then you also have too much time on your hands, and may have already thought about my idea. Hopefully though, you have a somewhat more conventional approach towards leisure activities, and perhaps have been too busy waxing your elbows, hoovering your shed, etc to have given this much thought.
'Opposites attract', so the short saying goes. True, or just an Old Wives Tale? To put this to the test, I spent literally 23 seconds on a concept to put this theory to the test.
It is all very simple, as you'd expect from me. Just write down your vital statistics or physical attributes, and a few items of interest to yourself, for example hobbies, music, sports, etc as a list. Here's mine as an example:
Height: 5' 8" (in old money)
Weight: Fatty
Eyes: Two
Type Of Car: Riley Kestrel
Favourite Groups: The Beatles, Bonzo Dog Band, The Len Fairclough Experience
Favourite kitchen appliance: Fork
Pets: Budgies
Occupation: Sweaty electrician
Favourite position on a compass: Magnetic north
That will do for now. We don't want to become self-obsessed here.
OK then, now we have the basic information, the idea is to write down, as accurately as possible, the opposite of your answers. This should determine the characteristics and personality of the opposite you'd be attracted to. Be honest and try to keep to the first thing that springs to your mind, as this is usually your true feeling. Let's do mine as an example:
Height: Well, I'm not too short or too tall really, so I guess I could choose really tall or really short. Let's go with really short.
Weight: The opposite to me is thin.
Eyes: I have two. What's the opposite of two? That's got me confused, but logic suggests 'one' as the answer here.
Type of car: Hmm. The opposite to the Kestrel would be a safe, economical, sensible motor and not one you'd see John Cleese whacking with a branch.
Favourite groups: The opposite to mine would be boring, unoriginal and not worth listening to.
Favourite kitchen appliance: The opposite to my answer would be knife.
Pets: I guess the opposite to a Budgie would be Cat. So let's say a Lion!
Occupation: The opposite to my answer is of course a non-sweating Plumber (as if such a beast exists!! Tskk!)
Favourite position on a compass: I've already forgotten what I said. Oh yes, magnetic north. So I guess we'll say non-magnetic south here.
OK sports fans, so now we have the answers. Now let's take those answers and make a profile of our opposite and see if we're attracted to it. I'm excited!
My ideal date or partner, then, would be: A rake thin, really short, knife-wielding one eyed unsweaty plumber, who drives a normal boring car with John Cleese in the back seat, listens to Coldplay whilst facing south without any magnetic field, and enjoys hanging around with Lions.
Frankly, compared to some of the clowns I've been out with, this sounds like a dream date! It looks like there is some truth in this after all!
Try it yourself, if you dare. I would love to read your results!
Saturday, 23 June 2007
Hex My Ex Lives...
I am in the throes of writing my very own website for this domain name - http://www.hexmyex.co.uk/ - but in the meantime, why don't you familiarise yourself with my ramblings and get to know me a wee bit better?
I am a thwarted, but not (that!) bitter ex. But I do know how bitter one can be - particularly if your best beloved runs off with your best friend, screws you out of as much money as possible, and denies you access to your children...but as I say, I am not bitter!
So, apart from business blogs, which are unutterably dull, this is the first time I have done any blogging...Quite nerve-wracking, being a blogging virgin, isn't it? I know most of you lot will be old hands and swanking over me, but give me some time, give me time...Once I get into the swing of things, you will learn what a recidivous vixen I can be!
I shall tell you a little more about HexMyEx as it nears its birth and launch on the WWW, as no bugger is going to steal my concept from me yet! But, suffice to say, it will be fantastic and all you single people out there, and I know there is at least another one (Matt!) will enjoy contributing to it and maybe even find some succour (sucker?!) from it...
Well, today I was mighty displeased to discover that my new-found favourite band Ghosts have already played at Delamere Forest. They have a gig at Barfly in Liverpool in July, but it's on a Monday. For Pete's sake, who wants to go to a gig on a Monday night in town? Not me, that's for sure. I am too old for that nonsense!
Anyway, apart from that, I have written about six more pages for the forthcoming http://www.hexmyex.co.uk/ and am really getting into my stride. My thwarted-ex-in-arms, friend and collaborator, Matt Chingduvé, is hoping to call in some favours from his brother to help us bring our website to fruition. Matt's brother runs a superlative web design agency Rusty Monkey and maybe they will take pity on us...then again...maybe not, and it's down to Microsoft Front Page for us! But they are pretty bloody good and their band Evil Scarecrow is not to be taken lightly, either!
Well, it is my intention to keep you all abreast of developments for Hex My Ex, so stay tuned, feel free to comment accordingly and if you want your ex hexing, come to me: ATTRACTIS PEDIBUS PATENTE PORTA PERCURRENT RAPHANIQUE MUGILESQUE!! Or...With ankles strapped and the rear-entry opened, you'll be torpedoed by a fast-acting suppository of mullet and radish...Wonder what Hugh Fearnley Whittingstall would make of that concoction for River Cottage?
I am a thwarted, but not (that!) bitter ex. But I do know how bitter one can be - particularly if your best beloved runs off with your best friend, screws you out of as much money as possible, and denies you access to your children...but as I say, I am not bitter!
So, apart from business blogs, which are unutterably dull, this is the first time I have done any blogging...Quite nerve-wracking, being a blogging virgin, isn't it? I know most of you lot will be old hands and swanking over me, but give me some time, give me time...Once I get into the swing of things, you will learn what a recidivous vixen I can be!
I shall tell you a little more about HexMyEx as it nears its birth and launch on the WWW, as no bugger is going to steal my concept from me yet! But, suffice to say, it will be fantastic and all you single people out there, and I know there is at least another one (Matt!) will enjoy contributing to it and maybe even find some succour (sucker?!) from it...
Well, today I was mighty displeased to discover that my new-found favourite band Ghosts have already played at Delamere Forest. They have a gig at Barfly in Liverpool in July, but it's on a Monday. For Pete's sake, who wants to go to a gig on a Monday night in town? Not me, that's for sure. I am too old for that nonsense!
Anyway, apart from that, I have written about six more pages for the forthcoming http://www.hexmyex.co.uk/ and am really getting into my stride. My thwarted-ex-in-arms, friend and collaborator, Matt Chingduvé, is hoping to call in some favours from his brother to help us bring our website to fruition. Matt's brother runs a superlative web design agency Rusty Monkey and maybe they will take pity on us...then again...maybe not, and it's down to Microsoft Front Page for us! But they are pretty bloody good and their band Evil Scarecrow is not to be taken lightly, either!
Well, it is my intention to keep you all abreast of developments for Hex My Ex, so stay tuned, feel free to comment accordingly and if you want your ex hexing, come to me: ATTRACTIS PEDIBUS PATENTE PORTA PERCURRENT RAPHANIQUE MUGILESQUE!! Or...With ankles strapped and the rear-entry opened, you'll be torpedoed by a fast-acting suppository of mullet and radish...Wonder what Hugh Fearnley Whittingstall would make of that concoction for River Cottage?
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