Answer Me This! Podcast

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We weren’t the only people to be rather alarmed by last week‘s question from Chris about his armful of glass; Jim from Twickenham was too:

That question about NHS records and the guy with glass in his arms made me think that maybe you guys missed an important part.

I think it’s a real possibility that the questioner tried to slit his wrists and that was the real reason for the fake name and secrecy. I had a friend who actually did drunkenly cut up his arms by accident and got a real grilling from the doctors about suicide.

Good point, Jim, but fortunately your fears proved unfounded. How do I know? Because we also received the following email:

It’s Chris from episode 199. Thank you for answering my question. I will now go to my local GP and explain the situation without fear of punishment.

I know, I’m an idiot!

A noble idiot, Chris. Well done for trying to save your friend from parental fury (which I’m assuming didn’t work, as if there’s anything a parent notices than one missing glass cupboard door, it is two missing glass cupboard doors). Less well done on potentially incurring far greater parental fury directed towards yourself, and for causing yourself long-term physical damage; but as we all know, no good deed goes unpunished.

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As we said in last week’s episode, we can’t condone cheating in Quasar; but if you INSIST upon cheating, you might as well not waste your time with inferior methods. Here follows an admonition from Henry:

In the latest podcast, Olly seemed to come to the conclusion that you could cheat at Quasar using a laser pointer. This is WRONG. Growing up as a nerdy kid in the early 90s, I can tell you that the lasers in lasertag games (yes, there is a blanket term and this is it) are JUST FOR SHOW.

Other popular (but lower-tech) cheats popular in the Coventry Laser Quest revolved around blocking up the sensors on your pack, either with black tape, chewing gum or a baggy hoodie (this being Coventry).

If, however, you do prefer to maintain your honour during laser games, Mark from Essex has some above-board tactics for you:

I am part of a group of friends that goes to Quasar every week (indeed, because we are that cool). Please pass along these tips to the questioneer if he wants to improve his game:

– Have an emergency signal for summoning team members for assistance. We use whistles.

So: stand very still, keep distant from your friends, and play a defensive game. Got it. But…it doesn’t actually sound FUN.

Perhaps I am misunderstanding. For all I know, Quasar might not in fact purport to be fun.

Quasar + Segways, however = indisputable fun

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Don't do it! It's SUICIDE!

So you’re out playing a nice game of Fetch with your pet dog. Everything’s going brilliantly – your throwing arm is strong, its aim is true; the dog is showing unprecedented levels of agility and enthusiasm – until suddenly you realise that on your way out of the house, you accidentally picked up a Chocolate Orange instead of a tennis ball. (This is an all too common mistake in the run-up to Christmas.)

Knowing that chocolate is poisonous to dogs, you rush over to the hound, but it’s too late – the Chocolate Orange has already been bolted down and is heading rapidly for the canine colon. The dog swoons into a pile of rotting leaves, life already ebbing from its furry face. You crumple over its prone body, caterwauling to the God you don’t believe in, begging him/her/it to save your beloved pet.

God, of course, doesn’t answer, but fortunately AMTfan Alan does:

Yes, chocolate is poisonous for dogs but did you know by giving them a slice of bread, it counteracts it?

I did not know! Thankyou, Alan, for potentially saving the lives of dogs everywhere. I’ll never again embark upon Walkies without ensuring there’s a bap in my pocket, just in case.

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Irish dancing has a defender, in the form of its newest fan Lesley from Forest Hill:

I just started taking Irish Dancing lessons. In my long 4 weeks’ experience, I can confidently say that there are no arm movements because the foot part is so complicated, your brain would explode if they tried to add anything more.

Incidentally, Irish Dancing is amazing fun. I’m completely allergic to all forms of exercise, but this class makes me actually willing to be all sweaty!

It’s true; whenever I’ve been to ceilidhs, they’ve been far funner than aerobics classes, and about 20 times more taxing. Seriously, I was worried that my friend Tom’s heart was going to burst in the middle of a 60th birthday ceilidh. Yet oddly, all the octogenarians present were hopping around as unflushed as daisies. What’s their secret?

Chris from Cardiff, Australia has also written in to stick up for the underdog:

I just thought I’d say that Canberra is actually quite a nice place to go to – as long as you have an interest in politics or museums. There are tons of great museums and exhibition buildings. As a person whose childhood holidays were either (a) camping in the rain, or (b) museum-hopping, Canberra is an veritable haven of enjoyment.

If, however, your idea of a good holiday is sitting on the beach or getting blotto, then Canberra is not the place for you.

I shun beaches and blottificaiton, so maybe Canberra IS the holiday for me! I’m booking my tickets pronto.

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This medical circumcision business seems endless [pun intended]. Let’s rattle through the emails we’ve received on the matter, and if you have any further suggestions for people who are anticipating or recovering from the snip, add them in the comments.

We’ll kick off with a couple of ideas for explaining away your post-operative crotchpain, the first from Mike:

Just say you had a hernia op on your groin, very common amongst men and produces a similar limp, make sure to do a quick search on hernias in case of any awkward questions though.

If you are disinclined to lie, heed the advice from Adam:

I had a medical circumcision too, but I was 3 at the time so it wasn’t much of a problem with telling friends. All I remember is not being able to pee, so I had to go to hospital to have it removed.

But if I’m ever discussing with my friends about who’s been in hospital and for what, then I say that I’ve become an honorary Jew or anatomically Jewish. They normally understand what I mean without actually saying what I had done.

Readers, it sounds like Alasdair here needs your comfort and reassurance:

Does it hurt when you get a circumcision? And I heard that you can’t masturbate after it. It would be great if you answered this because I don’t want to ask anyone else.

Maybe you don’t even need to have one, Alasdair – Mark has possible alternatives:

Circumcision isn’t always needed for a tight foreskin. There is a support group called Norm (www.norm-uk.org) that advises on alternatives, such as stretching, or even a frenuloplasty – which is a cutting of the band that often restricts the foreskin from retracting. This keeps the foreskin intact, but relieves the tightness.

I’ve got a friend who wasn’t able to retract his foreskin until he was in his 30s – but after using some of the stretching advice on the website he was able to do so.

I’ve now stretched my foreskin-related attention span to its limit, but if your interest is piqued, I recommend you read Talking Cock by our fellow podcaster Richard Herring, for all the entertaining and interesting penile information you might ever require.

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Last week, when Chris from Dundee was wondering how to divert attention from his post-circumcision limp, we invited you to recount how you’d fibbed away your ailments. Says Vikki:

You asked listeners how they have explained their ailment. When I was 16 I had to use a wheelchair for long distances due to neurological condition M.E. Most accepted this but some did not, so I would go on to explain I drink too much and need a wheelchair to get home after a night out. I stuck a sign on the back of my wheelchair saying “I’m not disabled, I just drink too much” – sadly I forgot to remove this sign when attending the ChildLine awards!

Anything to brighten the mood at the ChildLine awards, right? I’ve never been, but I’m imagining the evening is light on jokes.

On a not-jokey note, readers, Vikki runs a charity called Post Pals, which seeks people to write emails and cards to ill kids. So head over to her website, then uncap that fountain pen and commence correspondence. Although please remember to keep it cleaner than the correspondence you send to us. Ahem.

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Here’s some elaboration upon the Adventures of Bash with his pocketful of Ash Cash:

I would like to point out that my efforts with the nurse was successful. But it did massively get me back – as who’d imagine a girl with a) no standards and b) alcohol dependency issues would have massive amounts of baggage? In the end I could have got the same result with a happy hour pint of snakebite and black, and not hardback copies of the Harry Potter, Narnia and Black Cauldron series, which cost a fucking bomb.

On a lighter note, my friend once felt he’d been screwed out of a crem form by another junior doc. She was very religious with a huge number of superstitions. My friend (and I stress it isn’t me) casually asked her about the body. On hearing that the corpse had its eyes open, my friend informed her that if the eyes aren’t shut, the person ‘CAN NEVER REST’, and as a result will haunt the said junior doc. She almost had a nervous breakdown before it was sorted. Especially when she found the body had been cremated.

God I miss those happy days.

Yes, too bad you had to grow up and become a pillar of society, Dr Bash.

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Alex in Hampshire has a useful suggestion for how Sarah from Stirling from AMT195 can damn her friend’s debut novel with faint praise:

I used to take a creative writing class at uni. Every week, we’d have to read other students’ manuscripts and give them some feedback on their work. Now and again, someone would come along and write something that was complete and utter bilge.

This had the effect of giving the poor, talentless writer the affirmation they desired, whilst also inferring that they should not in any circumstances show their magnum crappus to anyone whose opinion may actually matter, or the wider world in general.

Misdirection. Very smart.

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In AMT194, Rosemary Daniels taught us that it’s not what you know, it’s who you know, and this is far from unusual as Elliott from Coventry observes:

The Reg Grundy/Rosemary Daniels discussion reminded me of Gene Roddenberry’s wife, Majel Barrett. Not only did she play a character in the classic Star Trek, but she was also Deanna Troi’s mother in The Next Generation. Additionally, she provided the voice of the ship’s computer in all the incarnations of Star Trek, including the 2009 film, which was released after her death in 2008.

That Majel Barrett, sleeping her way to the top.

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Last week’s discussion of songs about wanking raised some upsetting memories for Sarah from Oklahoma:

When I was about 5, I learned all the words to “I Touch Myself” and learned a dance where I kept touching my face and my arms – it was very good. My brother who was 11 years older than me thought it was hilarious and said I ought to go show my mom’s friends who were downstairs.

I made it about 3 lines in before my mom grabbed me and put me in my room and told me to never sing that song again.

If you are five and you want to cause a stir, here’s the song you need to master:

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The argument about Lego keeps going round and round. After the pasting he received from Andrew from Southampton last week, the Lego-avoiding 14-year-old Will from Haddenham from AMT193 has invoked his right to reply:

Andrew from Southampton, I’d like to point out that Lego is an excellent toy and I won’t fault it for any reason (except for its price label in some cases), but if I went into school tomorrow and said to my mates: “Hey guys, you won’t believe the trouble I’ve been having with this Lego set I’m building”, then I am sure that they would take the absolute piss out of me, I’d be instantly labelled as a ‘sad loser’ and I’d never be able to live it down.

I wish things were different, but that’s how it goes these days. I’m not going to lie, Lego has undoubtedly been my favourite childhood toy and it will be enjoyed for many years to come as I have a little brother and there’s tons of the stuff at home. So please don’t accuse me of being a Lego hater, but I’d like to point out that I’m also not a fanatic.

This seems an entirely reasonable response to me. Let’s just all agree now that Lego IS great at almost any age, but 14-year-old boys are too busy with wanking, experimental intoxication and existential angst to be occupying themselves with it.

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