Agony Uncle

It appears that my wisdom is so well appreciated, that Henry, (that is Blobs Godmother Jacky's cat) has an abundance of questions. I have therefore decided that I must be a veritable Claire Rayner. (For anyone that doesnt know, she is an agony aunt which means she doles out helpful advice willy nilly to anyone that wants it.)

Because I am very much of the masculine persuasion, I am going to be Bob, the Agony Uncle.

I have perused an assortment of Agony Uncle columns and have decided that the best answers are the ones where the question isn't listed, something like this:

Dear Depressed from Swansea, I think you have answered your own question. How about meatballs? Yours, Uncle Bob.

Dear Woeful from Chelmsford, You are quite right, that sounds very painful. If the ointment isnt working, I would suggest going back to your GP and not rubbing it with margarine and balsamic vinegar. Yours, Uncle Bob.

You see, its easy, and so I am now officially offering my Agony Uncle services to all and sundry, but mostly to Henry.

So here goes my first ever official Agony Uncle effort.

Dear Damp and Cross from Shoreham, In my extensive experience, Blobs dont actually aim the hose at you as long as you steer clear of newly dug earth and green growing things. Find a dry, sandy corner which isnt near, on or under anything green and hold your ground. If that doesnt work, then get some wet look hair gel and roll with the punches! Yours, Uncle Bob.

I could get good at this!

Bob