Wednesday, 2 March 2016

Neil Dawson: Agony Uncle/Bastard/Fat Bloke.

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Fat Neil Dawson has a severe allergy to grass pollen and Intel Pentium Processor's. He once fell down a ravine as a child and as a result of this is now a lifelong Conservative. He likes nothing better than putting people in boxes and judging people. He's off his tits on Tia Maria most days and is a life long hoarder. However, he's been given this column as a favour, so will give your problems his absolute best shot.

Dear Neil,
I suspect my son is gay. This isn’t a problem – I would just like to know. How can I get him to confide in me?
Judy.
Lanarkshire.

Dear Judy,
Some of my favourite people are as bent as a hoop, so try to look on the bright side; he could help you with your decorating instead of getting killed in a war zone. Have you tried coaxing him out of his closet with a Shirley Bassey LP? He might not be gay. He might just suit pastel colours. Why does it matter so much to you? Maybe he is still undecided or likes both men and women – did you think about that? Did you? Well did you?!!! Have you seen him dance? It’s not a watertight theory but generally speaking straight men are unable to rotate their hips. Your letter suggests you may have too much time on your hands, Judy. Why not acquire some hobbies? Tropical fish are relaxing to watch and their deaths will not cause too much sadness.
Remember: you are from a generation where gayness was a sackable offence. Nowadays it is not even interesting. The worst that will happen is he gets his own show on Saturday night TV.
Take care you shithouse,
Neil. X


Dear Neil,
I find it hard to make friends and now I am in my late 30's it seems even more difficult, as everyone seems to be pairing off. What can I do? Please help.
Jackie.
HMP Wandsworth.

Well Jackie,
Judging by the stationery you used to send me your letter, I think I can pinpoint where you’re going wrong. As soon as your letter landed on my desk I could smell dog. Do you own a dog? Or are you just looking after one? Because I can smell dog. If this smell has permeated your stationery Jackie, just think what its done to your clothing! I hope this reply doesn’t upset you. I try to employ diplomacy and a kind word at all times. However, if you want any kind of a life Jackie, you need to have your dog destroyed.
Maybe you are just looking after one whilst its owner is away? Is this another of your ploys to make friends Jackie? If so, there are other methods. Have you tried falling in the street? This is a failsafe method for meeting new people. And only the kind ones will approach you, so you are already separating the wheat from the chaff. Once you have your ‘good samaritan’, tell them you think you may have fractured something and get them to call an ambulance. If they are any kind of potential friend they will follow up on your injury to see how you are doing. Then. Do. Not. Let. Them. Go.
Joining leisure centres and asking people to hold your ankles down whilst you do sit-ups can break the ice. Don’t bother with book clubs. Readers are very insular creatures and therefore a waste of your time. Why not take a course? Or learn a language? Anywhere where there is forced interaction can lead to friendship.
I’m assuming you’re single Jackie? The bitterness in your letter came through when you mentioned people ‘pairing off’. Have you thought of ‘pairing off’ yourself? Dating sites can offer potential love and friendship, and they are not all full of desperate loser weirdos.
Try to learn to enjoy your own company. I know it must be hard. Especially when others are ‘pairing off’ and you’re all alone, reeking of dog.
Remember the positives. Friendships involve a lot of man-hours. So why not make use of this free time by making sandwiches for the week ahead or simply sleeping, because when you’re sleeping there are no lonely times.
Take care you utter flap.
Neil. X


Dear Neil,
I’ve been dating my boyfriend for three years now. Last year he moved to Hong Kong for work. I’m worried. Can a long distance relationship survive?
Lyndsay.
River Thames. X

Dear Lyndsay,
A long distance relationship cannot survive. Oh you can Skype till you’re blue in the face but there’s a lot of truth in the old adage ‘out of sight, out of mind’. He’s probably already met someone nicer than you, like.
How long is he due to stay out there? If it’s longer than three months, I’d say forget him. Cut your losses and move on. Plenty more fish in the sea. Next time make sure your ‘fish’ has no ambition or drive. He’ll be less attractive but at least you’ll know where he is at night.
Also, are you absolutely sure he’s in Hong Kong? I knew a friend who told her boyfriend she was in San Francisco when in fact she was in Newport Pagnell all along; she just couldn’t stand the sight of him.
Keep your pecker up, pissface!
Neil. X


Dear Neil,
I am in so much debt. I’ve run up almost £9000 on credit cards and cant see a way out. What can I do?
Justine.
Metroland. Metroland.

Wake up Justine you doyle!
You are not Liberace! Reign in your spending and think before you buy. Do you really need a white baby grand piano encrusted with rhinestones? Keep a notebook of your purchases to see where you are haemorrhaging money. You could try leaving town but the odds are high that they will hunt you down like a dog. My advice is to cut up your cards and live like a monk for five or six years. Eventually you will break even and be able to allow yourself little treats – like Brie or a set of leather-bound encyclopedias.
Remember: the best things in life are free. Like air and the sea.
Do you live near, or over the top of an Aldi, Justine? My friend Barbara shops there and makes quite a saving on her food shop. Then again, Barbara’s tastebuds are fucking shot to shit (overuse of a tongue scraper during the 90's, innit). Still, if taste isn’t a big priority for you, you might want to give it a try.
Christ. What a mess! I feel really sorry for you. No I absolutely do not.
Get fucked.
Neil. X

NB: We would like to remind our readers that Neil Dawson is maladjusted. Why anyone would write in and ask his advice is beyond us. However, if you insist on knowing what a small-minded, 40-something xenophobe has to say about your problems then good luck to you.

Till next time.
Big love. X

1 comment:

Libby Lagun said...

You have true problem solving prowess. A total professional from beginning to end. I wish I had a bastard problem to share. There lies a problem in itself. Bravo