Elisa sees my John Thaw enrapturement in last week’s episode, and raises:
I think I might win the age gap contest regarding celebrity crushes. I’ve been in love with Michael Caine for years. I first discovered my love for him in 2007 after the movie The Prestige – I was 19, and he was 74.
Eurghhh! Michael Caine at any age….shudder.
Readers, the gauntlet has thrown down. Are you able to beat Elisa’s age gap crush? Moreover, SHOULD you be able to?
Another wedding question! It’s from Jo in Herne Hill:
My friend has asked me to do a reading at her wedding in April. It’s a church wedding, but as I am a massive atheist she has said I can do the non-religious one; however she would like me to choose something myself. In the past, I have been required to say the words ‘fondle’, ‘fart’ and ‘arse’ in wedding readings, but am not sure this sort of thing is appropriate in a house of God.
I have a degree in English Literature, but managed to get through two poetry courses without going to a single lecture and passed by writing 9000 words on nonsense verse, so I am not very well qualified and everything I have found online is twee and nauseating, or has been done to death. Help!
I CAN’T! The poems that are good for the purpose have indeed been done to death; you know why? Because most poets are
a) miserable
b) lovelorn
c) death-obsessed
d) fanatically religious
e) all of the above.
Any of these traits are incompatible with the majority of wedding ceremonies. At least with the nauseating twee poems, there’s little danger of you realising only as you clear your throat at the lectern that you’re about to read a graphic metaphor for erections and death in iambic pentameter.
I wonder why your friend is insisting you choose the reading yourself. Is it a test for you, to see how much you understand her? Is it so that she has some reason to freak out at you? Is it because she just can’t be arsed to search for one herself? (Fair enough.) At one recent wedding, the groom asked me to read a page of a biography of Bobby Fischer. Being a passage about children’s chess clubs in New York, it was in no way relevant to weddings or romance; the congregation was baffled; but my friend was happy, which of course was the primary objective.
But, if your friend indeed insists upon putting you through the literary wringer, consider recourse to prose – preferably of a more romantic, less esoteric nature than biographies of chess prodigies, but a touch of non-bawdy humour might be welcome. Alternatively, perhaps you could read the lyrics of a song that they both like? Hey, if Kylie can do it, so can you.
Readers, help Jo out: in the comments, either suggest failsafe poems that HAVEN’T been done at all the weddings, or ideas for a different sort of reading entirely. NB: the phone book, Roger’s Profanisaurus, or Penthouse Readers’ Wives are not acceptable sources.
Whatever you choose, though, choose something SHORT. There have been weddings where I’ve actually been hoping for the Oscars band to strike up just so that I could stop orating.
Despite this sort of terrifying story, we still receive the following question fairly often. Today, it came from Mark from London:
As a student, I am constantly strapped for cash and have been looking for ways to make a little extra money.
A friend recommended to me clinical trials. Some of them are pretty well paid!
So answer me this: would it be worth signing up for clinical trials? How risky are they, and is the money worth it?
I feel uncomfortable gambling with Mark’s future health and wellbeing by answering the first question; as for the second, the more money, the riskier the trial, so bear that in mind as you decide which means more to you.
Perhaps you readers can answer the third question in the comments, because for some reason I feel sure that some of you may have been lab rats in your time.
Josh has designed the packaging above, but lacks a product to go in it. He asks:
If there was a real Answer Me This! game, what would you do in it?
Probably just sit on our arses, like in real life. Not exciting enough? Erm, how about extra points for using the least amount of physical movement to make a cup of tea, go to the toilet, find the TV remote then return to the sofa?
Alright then, readers, it’s over to you: go to the comments and describe the ideal AMT game, and we’ll have a word with our friends at Square Enix to see if they can produce it in time for Christmas.
I admit, I did a full-body wince upon reading this email from Hannah:
After listening to some of your back episodes, episode 101 caught my ear. In it you recommend, to get over a relationship, you should do things that you couldn’t when you were with the other person.
When with my ex, we had a long-standing joke about various piercings, him being pretty horrified, and me enjoying winding him up. So, when things ended a few months ago, I decided to take your advice: I got myself a clitoris piercing!
Answer me this – what is the most extreme thing you’ve done to spite/get over someone?
Errrrm…got on with my life? Boring, I know.
However, readers, you are much less boring than I, with my unpierced genitalia. So please flounce towards the comments and tell us your best stories of recovery/retaliation.
Here’s a jolly old question from Pete in Devon:
My favourite jingle starts ‘I’m an Answer Me This! fan, I listen with my nan’.
I too want to be like Olly Mann – so answer me this Helen: is it true that you should never meet your heroes?
Perhaps you have had an encounter with someone you held in high esteem that was everything you expected it would be or was a crushing disappointment.
Well, if you should happen to meet Olly – perhaps browsing in John Lewis, or in the jacuzzi at a spa, or queuing at the local courthouse to contest a parking ticket – you definitely would not be disappointed (unless you have completely unrealistic expectations. He’s not really gold-plated, you know).
However, in all other cases, I counsel that you steer clear of these encounters. Even in the cases where your hero turns out to be just as delightful as you had hoped, you cannot escape the inequality of your situation: you know them, but they do not know you, and your only common ground for chitchat is how much you love them. This subject, by the way, will make for an awkward one-sided blithering conversation, which will make you cringe forever after – unless, of course, your celebrity crush is in fact very vain and adores talking about how amazing they are. In which case you might be able to indulge in a lengthy discourse, but it will result in the second scenario: disappointment, as you discover all too plainly that your idol is an arrogant twat.
So, in either case, you’re better off keeping your mental image of the person and not tarnishing it with horrible old reality. Our next questioneer Sophie did learn the hard way:
I recently went to a book signing, where I just quickly mumbled a question at Jarvis Cocker’s face. I now have a signed copy of his book, and a horrifically embarrassing memory to cherish.
To avoid such instances in the future, I was just wondering what is the correct etiquette for book signing events?
As aforementioned, there is no overcoming the fact that your relationship is unequal, and regardless of which well-chosen bon mots you deploy, you’re not going to emerge from the brief encounter as Jarvis Cocker’s new best friend. To minimise the awkwardness, prior preparation is essential: decide on ONE thing to praise out of Jarvis Cocker’s achievements – perhaps one of the less obvious highlights of his oeuvre? – and maybe throw in a compliment about his tie or suchlike. Give him a little guidance about what to inscribe in your book. Then LEAVE. Your dignity will thank you for eternity if you’re the one who breaks off the meeting (because you yourself are BUSY and IMPORTANT, and the world doesn’t stop turning just so everyone can worship you, JARVIS).
We will all be entertained if you, reader, would deign to share in the comments the tales of when you did not observe these guidelines and found yourself somewhere on the scale between mortified and slapped with a restraining order.
Andrew from Doncaster has a quandary about what to do in nine days’ time:
Last night I had a discussion with my other half about arrangements for New Year’s Eve, the problem being that he works in a pub and will be at work, and he wants me to sit and wait while he finishes, probably around 3am.
I can’t stand New Year’s Eve! So, answer me this: do I just go along with what he wants, so ending up bored and drunk sat waiting while he serves his customers, or do I just say that I will pick him up when he is finished?
The latter. If you go to his pub for the evening, he will be busy and ignoring you, while you prop up the bar with your simmering resentment.
But readers, what would YOU do? And, moreover, what WILL you be doing for New Year’s Eve? Climbing Sydney Harbour Bridge wearing a sequinned jumpsuit? Popping two Valium and sleeping right through it? Sitting in a prayer circle with your Mayan friends welcoming the end times? Let us know in the comments!
Here’s a complex 21st-century problem from Steve:
My oldest and dearest friend is a lady who(m) likes ladies. In fact, she likes a specific lady, and has for several years now – to the point that they have been planning children together for a while. It has been my pleasure to watch them get together and grow as a couple. For me, the warmth, generosity and acceptance they demonstrate is the epitome of a loving relationship, and something I have emulated since. Ever since they got together it’s struck me as unfair that they were unable to pursue the opportunities that other couples have been able to pursue, simply because they were hetero, such as marriage and a family.
About 4 years ago, they asked me how I might feel about helping them have a family by supplying some… man-seed. Given that I knew no couple better placed to raise a family, and that they were never going to be able to do it on their own, I agreed. We went through a long process of ensuring that all of us understood the nature of my role. Definitely not a father, or even father-like, figure and the importance of clear boundaries and roles, with mine being minimal and an “interested family friend” at most. Everyone understood that it’s best for everyone, not least the child, that I keep a well understood distance. Based on this, I made my… contributions, and they paid for the process of storage and eventually IVF. They have recently had the exciting news they were pregnant.
So here is my dilemma. I have since met a girl myself, and she is lovely. She has known about the situation since our second date, and was initially fine with it. However as our relationship has progressed – and we have moved in together recently – her attitude has changed. In fact, she’s had a few “meltdowns” about it. We have talked about being parents ourselves, and both of us are looking forward to it – though she has a keen awareness of her own biological clock.
Here is my question: in the above sentence, should I have used the pronoun “who” or “whom”? Also, is it unreasonable for me to expect my lass to see the situation as I do, and how might I help her understand that my feelings about my friend’s family bares no relation to whatever family we might have?
1) ‘Who’, of course, as it is the subject of the verb in that construction.
2) The child whose life you enabled is shortly to enter this world, and there’s nothing your girlfriend can do to stop it, short of infanticide. We cannot condone infanticide, so she has two legal choices: reconcile herself to the situation, or jump ship.
Readers, have you any ideas how she might go about reconciling herself, or how Steve can assure her that she is his number 1 lady and that their potential children will certainly survive having a half-sibling? Pray, go to the comments to help him out.
Resist the temptation to smack the bottom of our next correspondent Nick, for you may not like the consequences:
I’m on study abroad in the Netherlands this year. I’ve met a lot of good people here, one of whom is a particularly good friend from Canada.
He and I and a couple of other friends are in Budapest for the weekend. Tonight on the way back to our hostel from a night out he kept hitting me in the arse (as he does a lot), and I told him to stop. He didn’t and I got angry at him and I jumped at him trying to hit him. He hit me in the arm a few times and I swung back at him and I hit him in the face! I didn’t realise straight away but then he started bleeding! He wasn’t happy obviously and said no one had done that to him before.
I have apologised many times, but still feel bad. He has blood on his jacket and I offered to pay for a new one, but explained that I didn’t want to make amends just by paying him off. I offered to let him hit me back but he said no, he said to just go to bed. I feel so bad though, I’ve never done that to anyone before! I was drunk and pissed off that he kept poking fun at me and smacking me, but that was still no reason to react that way.
So answer me this, how can I make it up to him? He’s a good friend and I don’t want him to remain upset at me, but I don’t know what to do. I also don’t want him and our friends thinking I’m a violent person, I would never intentionally do that to him. Please help!
Readers, go to the comments and suggest means for Nick to restore his friendship. Be sure not to make him angry.
I’ve never been a teenage boy, but if you have, or possess especial insight into the condition, please apply yourself to the following two questions and offer sage advice in the comments.
The first is from A Horny Teenager, which, let’s face it, could be any of them:
Being a 15 year old boy, my hormones are raging and I have a lust for certain things e.g. Sex.
I have a girlfriend, we have been together for 4 years, however nothing sexual has ever happened. I would like to do something however I do not know how to bring it up with ruining our friendship. Answer me this: how can I instigate sex?
Readers, while you tackle his delicate question, I’m just going to sit here and reel at the fact that a 15-year-old has already been in a relationship for FOUR YEARS. Kid, are you living your life backwards? Sexless long-term relationship now, knee-tremblers behind the bike sheds with a new girlfriend every fortnight when you’re in your eighties?
Although his situation is unusual, Horny Teenager’s problem is not uncommon, unlike the one now presented to us by Rikki from Dunfermline:
My friend Alan has brittle bone disease and is wondering when is the right time to tell a girl about this if by a very small chance he ever gets a date?
Probably at a similar time to when he’d tell anyone else about it, and definitely before she suggests a date to Go Ape/swing dance/Fight Club.
He needn’t be too shy about it, though, as classic literature reliably informs us that the ladies can’t resist a gentleman with an unusual and incurable condition.
It sounds like Cassidy here has a severe case of malaise:
I am a second-semester junior at a small liberal arts college in the US. I’ve always gotten (very) good grades, but I’ve been gradually realizing that they really don’t mean shit to me, I’m not interested in my chosen course of study, and have no desire to be here.
It has gotten incredibly easy to convince myself to sleep in rather than go to class, make myself a snack instead of go to class, or to read or play computer games or anything else rather than go to class. This is affecting my grades, and I do not care.
How awful would it be to just drop out/take a year off then transfer someplace not nearly as expensive to finish up a bachelor’s degree? I had a fairly shitty part-time job over the past summer, and doing simple work there was far, far more satisfying than readings and classes and writing papers, despite being tedious and probably doable by a reasonably talented six-year-old.
I’m worried it’ll be very difficult to get a job, however, without being an actual college graduate, even though I really wouldn’t be too picky about the work. And no, I don’t think I’d have the same issue going to work as I do with going to class- I have a job here and have never had trouble going, and I never had trouble going to my job back home. Knowing that my presence and effort is actually needed for things to work out there is very different from just being one person in a class.
Answwer me this: what should I do?!?!
Readers, please go to the comments and give Cassidy some of that copper-bottomed A-grade advice you’re so good at.
Meanwhile, Cassidy, here’s my ha’ppeny worth: while at the moment you think you find shitty work satisfying, in 20 years’ time it will have broken you. Whatever you decide to do, keep your future options as open as possible; and if you can’t transfer courses or colleges, the best option may be to grit your teeth and sticking with the current situation for another couple of years. Unappealing as this might seem presently, once you’re on the other side it will seem trifling.
Real-life example: our very own Martin the Sound Man. Halfway through his doctorate in quantum physics (yes, he has one; we like our sound men to be ridiculously over-qualified), he was ready to chuck in the whole thing. But for want of more pleasant options, he shouldered on for another two years, and lo, he was crowned Doctor Martin Austwick, so all the pain was worth it in the end.
Then he went and temped in a call centre for a year, but that’s another story.
Penny from Fetcham, Surrey is throwing down quite the gauntlet here:
Why are people SO amazed by Stonehenge? It’s big, but it’s not that big, and it got there by being rolled on other big stones. Wow.
There’re lots of similar stone circles in France anyway, and they don’t make a massive deal of it over there.
I’ve always been underwhelmed by it. So answer me this:
Why should I be impressed by Stonehenge?
Erm…because it’s ancient and mysterious? Because it really livens up a trip along the A303? Because without it, there would be no Carhenge?
Readers, flock to the comments and explain why Stonehenge is the shit, or, if you agree with Penny, why it is just shit.
Answer Me This! Podcast 