Aaah, this question from Sean takes us back over 100 episodes, to AMT86, when newlywed Kate asked us what title she should bestow upon her new lady wife. Being imaginative sorts, we suggested ‘wife’. Let’s see what we can pull out of the bag for Shaun:
I have the gay and next year I am marrying another man who also has the gay, and at this happy time in our lives we’re beginning to look forward and are on the borders of ‘thinking about a family of our own’.
Of course, being modern 21st-century types we’re less concerned with ‘how will we feed it and not let it die from our own ineptitude’, we’re much more concerned with superficial things like naming conventions.
Once we have adopted/surrogated/otherwise legally procured our children we’ve been wondering what we should encourage them to call us; it seems that calling us Dad and Dad or Daddy and Daddy would be confusing. It feels that we should each ‘own’ a term. I’m vetoing Pops, Popa and Papa. And of course we’re vetoing ‘mum’.
So, answer me this: if you had two dads, what would you call them to differentiate between one and the other?
I call both my parents ‘Sir’, of course. That’s de rigueur where I come from.
Readers, do you have – or are you one half of – a pair of paters? Please go to the comments to tell us how your own nomenclature situation shook down.
By the way, Shaun, the choice might not even be yours in the end; children tend to be fairly imaginative in this area, so whichever tasteful or humorous titles you opt for may be passed over in favour of a truly horrific bundle of infantile phonemes. But you’ll learn to love it. Or at least your defences will be so broken by the daily exertions of childcare that you won’t be able to correct it until it’s too late. Either way, you’ll be stuck with it forever, so you might as well not worry about it now.
Deploy the Glade Plug-Ins for this question from Max:
I was recently acting as an examiner for medical student exams, with an actor pretending to be the patient.
One of the candidates was really quite smelly and the actor marked him down as she was supposed to be marking his communication skills, and as she pointed out it was rather off-putting having to hold her breath.
I didn’t mark him down for his pong. Should I have done?
It’s highly subjective. If there was a section where you were marking the candidate’s personal presentation, then certainly you should have given him a D-. If there wasn’t, but there was room to comment on pastoral rather than academic qualities, then that would be an apt place to address the issue.
But if neither option was available, should one’s BO affect one’s professional standing? Particularly in a job which involves, on the one hand, considerable interpersonal contact, but on the other, potentially critical actions which transcend ponginess? Readers, weigh in:
Don’t forget, this person has spent seven or more years of their life and god knows how much money to get to this point. I can’t predict in which direction this might propel your judgement.
Team AMT! Please line up at the assembly points and let us check you’re all present and correct. Everyone OK? Nobody hurt? Good. Here’s Answer Me This! Episode 187, which as it happens was recorded before our home country irreparably damaged its international reputation for decorous manners.
This classic episode is available to BUY NOW for just 79p at the Answer Me This! Store, through a secure server, without DRM restriction. CLICK HERE to find out more and support our podcast. (This helps keep our most recent episodes free)
Today we talk of:
fruit machines
the holy iPad
moneysupermarket.com vs. Swingers
the distinctive Requiem for a Dream soundtrack Edo in Crystal Palace
David Beckham’s pants
buttery John Lydon
Paddy McGuinness’s penile pain
scaring The Hoosiers Girl From Rio
the King James Bible
skip-diving
whale fellatio the Edinburgh festival
and
the biggest testicles in the world.
Plus: Olly finds that his musical tastes have not matured at all when it comes to classic New Kids on the Block; Helen’s love of a) free food and b) sushi is severely tested; and Martin the Sound Man will be multitasking at the Green Man Festival next weekend. Watch him transform from a nerdy scientist to a nerdy musician in the blink of an eye! We’ll also be there too, reading extracts from the AMT Book, so please come to see us all at the Solar Stage in Einstein’s Garden, if you can make time between the folk bands and the crumpet-eating.
Make more time for this week’s Bonus Bit of Crap on the App (available on iPhone and iPad, or Android), which is a question from Chrissie from Cheltenham about whether can-can dancers cover their nether regions properly. Additionally, please make time to ask us some QUESTIONS as well: leave voicemails on the Question Line (dial 0208 123 5877 or Skype answermethis), or send emails answermethispodcast@googlemail.com.
See you next week, assuming civilisation still exists by then,
Under no circumstances make a bet with Nic from Chester:
A friend of mine once got a tattoo of a My Little Pony on his shoulder for a £5 bet. Admittedly £5 was a princely sum at the time and it wouldn’t have been so bad, had the masterpiece not cost him £25 to get done! So my question is this, what ridiculous stunts have you performed for cash?
THIS. But in its course, Jodie Marsh regaled us with a far more amped up version of Nic’s story above: she won a bet with a friend over the length of the world’s longest tiger, and his penalty for failing at this trivia question was having ‘Meat is murder’ tattooed in massive script down the full length of his arm.
Listen to me, children: tattoos are NOT an appropriate bet penalty, nor anything that will cause permanent damage to your body. If Jodie Marsh told you to cut off your finger because you didn’t guess the maximum circumference of a puffer fish, would you? Don’t answer that. But do answer Nic’s question in the comments, because we know that you have a reckless silly streak and you’ll do anything for the price of a tin of peas.
We’d also recommend seeing AMTfriends Isy Suttie and Bridget Christie, and…heck, there are too many great shows to list here, but go to the comments to tell us about your top picks of the fringe offerings.
And please, if you’re in Edinburgh at 1pm on 25th August, pop into Word Power Books to see us reading from our book as part of the book fringe festival! As added bait, Martin the Sound Man will be wheeled out to serenade the audience; and it’s FREE. It would be delightful to see you there, and maybe we can all go for some deep-fried Irn Bru afterwards.
Keep your knees together, balance a book on your head and invoke the ghost of Lucie Clayton, because we’re going to tackle a couple of etiquette questions. Read, assimilate, then offer your advice in the comments, firstly to Stan from Leeds:
Last weekend I celebrated my 20th birthday. I didn’t see my girlfriend on the day because she was at a festival, but we made plans to meet up in the week and make up for it.
However, we ended up breaking up before I saw her. It was moderately amicable, yet obviously things are going to be awkward for some time.
So answer me this: does she still owe me any presents she bought me, as we were still going out on my birthday, we just couldn’t see each other?
On top of this, her birthday is less than a week after mine and I spent a decent amount of money on gifts for her, which I don’t think I can return anymore. So what should I do with those?
If you’re absolutely sure you can’t return any, then think about who else might be a suitable recipient for them. Of course this won’t work out too well if you bought her a load of rude underwear with her pet name embroidered onto it, but at least there’s a place for everything on eBay.
As for her presents for you: sure, you’re technically owed them, but think carefully about whether you really want them. If they’re really great presents, showing how much she truly understood you, you’ll never be able to enjoy them thanks to the bittersweet tang of a love that died. Whereas if they’re shit presents, they’re shit presents, and nobody wants shit presents.
And let’s not discount the possibility of her breaking up with you to avoid having to get you a present at all.
Onwards, to this question from Sebastian from Ascot:
I was at my uncle’s last weekend and he had had a few drinks and just before I was going to bed he said if I needed his pornography it was under the stairs and this was in front of my mum and she goes, “He wouldn’t need that, he’s only 16…” So answer me this: what the hell should I have said?
Errr – you think I have access to official guidelines for how to act in this scenario?
There has already been far too much bad news this week, and it’s still only Tuesday. We could all do with some proper cheering up, so let’s address this question from James from Telford:
What do you think is the best laugh-out-loud film of all time?
Go to the comments, readers, and tell us which films will give us the dose of jollity we need amid all the grimness, which we can temporarily forget whilst we have a chuckle-filled viewing party on electrical equipment we obtained through the proper, legal means.
Oh, last week’s episode, dispatch from a more innocent time, a time when our greatest problem was what to do with the space under a cabin bed… Let’s return to that carefree world for just a moment, with this response from Hannah:
I had a Cabin bed for a while from IKEA. It barely fit in the room.
I was 11 at the time so used the space as a stage for plays my friends and I put on or little musical performances.
I also had some shelves under this bed which were laden with videos. I had also just discovered the joy of spreadsheets and Excel (yes, I know I’m strange) so I spent an afternoon labelling all the videos with special codes and then running a video rental store for my family and friends. I would use a spreadsheet to document when videos were out and in. I still have some little special membership cards and seem to remember that I made quite a few quid from running this little bedroom store.
Awww, young Hannah was almost as nerdy as this kid! Readers, were any of the rest of you running small businesses out of your childhood bedrooms? I’m prepared to bet that some of you could even have given Olly ‘Dragon’s Den Junior’ Mann a run for his money.
We love you, you big diverse bunch. We love the fact that, in the space of Answer Me This! Episode 186, we go from a wannabe Olympian to a sexual Olympian (with a gold medal in Making Shit Up). With a meat-loving Aussie, an excitable pair in Harrods, and a crispy Dave from Smethwick in between:
This classic episode is available to BUY NOW for just 79p at the Answer Me This! Store, through a secure server, without DRM restriction. CLICK HERE to find out more and support our podcast. (This helps keep our most recent episodes free)
Plus: Olly admits to having watched Eurosport without his eyes throwing up, but only because it reminded him of Jake Gyllenhaal films; young Helen was dazzled by Wingdings; and Martin the Sound Man is a pioneer of the Banjo Slap Bass Afrobeat genre – if you want to know what the hell that sounds like, click here to listen to the latest episode of his musical podcast. This week’s Bonus Bit of Crap on the App (available on iPhone and iPad, or Android) is a question from 16-year-old Joe from London. Despite his tender age, he has a very adult romantic problem: he can’t remember his new girlfriend’s birthday, but he knows it’s approaching fast, along with a ton of trouble if he forgets it. Pray for him.
We’re fully aware that the rest of you have problems of your own, so please send them to us and we’ll try to make light entertainment out of your pain. Leave voicemails on the Question Line (dial 0208 123 5877 or Skype answermethis), or send emails answermethispodcast@googlemail.com.
Non-British readers might not understand this next question from Paul from Reading, because we’ve noticed that in, for instance, the USA, anywhere with two sheds and a 7-11 can call itself a city. Over in Grand Britain it’s not that simple. It used to be as easy as throwing up a cathedral (ahem, ‘city’ of St David’s in Pembrokeshire), but not any more; as Paul demonstrates, it’s now more of a lottery presided over by an octogenarian:
Next year, as part of the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee celebrations she has the awesome power to award a town full city status. Reading, where I live, has applied for the third time and is desperate to win. The buses to the station even say “City Centre” on the front as the final destination.
Answer me this – who is Reading up against in the city status competition and do they stand a chance of winning?
If not, what can they do to increase their chances?
These are the towns vying with Reading for the title: Bolton, Bournemouth, Chelmsford, Colchester, Coleraine, Corby, Craigavon, Croydon, Doncaster, Dorchester, Dudley, Dumfries, Gateshead, Goole, Luton, Medway, Middlesbrough, Milton Keynes, Perth, Southend, St Asaph, St Austell, Stockport, Tower Hamlets and Wrexham.
Come ON, towns. What the hell are you smoking? Tower Hamlets, you’re already IN a city, don’t be greedy! Dudley…seriously, dream on. Goole, you’ve got an amusing name, but you have fewer inhabitants than the average tube station in London.
I don’t see why Reading can’t see off all these small fry – it even seems to be the gamblers’ favourite, although if I were Reading, I would watch out for Milton Keynes because MK’s had its eyes on that prize for aaaages and it’s willing to fight dirty.
If any of you readers have an In with the Queen, put in a good word for Paul’s beloved home town. Or just go to the comments and tell Reading what it needs to do to win. Install multi-storey herbaceous borders? Institute a weekly fancy dress parade? Get a bit more character?
Ok, so a chicken, a donkey and a bear walk into a bar. No, wait a minute, a duck, not a chicken. And the bear orders a pint of – no, hang on, the donkey orders a bag of dry-roasted peanuts, and the barman says…hang on, it’ll come back to me, wait a minute…no, it’s gone. OK, Derek from Kettering, you tell us one:
Years ago I was told a visual joke. On a piece of paper you draw a large upside-down ‘U’ shape which represents a hill. On top of the hill you draw a square which represents a brothel. Next you draw a stick-man running up the hill towards the brothel and a stick-man walking down the hill away from the brothel. Finally draw a stick-man in the brothel. Now ask: what are the nationalities of the 3 men?
The man running up the hill is RUSSIAN to get there.
The man walking down the hill is FINNISH.
But I can’t remember the man in the brothel’s nationality.
I’ve retold the joke many times, but no one’s got the answer.
It’s driving me mad… so, now, put me out of my misery and answer me this: what is the nationality of the man in the brothel?
Erm, is he a British man who’s got separated from the rest of the stag party in Amsterdam and went into the nearest premises for directions? No? Alright then, readers, step in and finish off Derek’s joke. Although something tells me the eventual payoff won’t be worth it.
I’m not a fan of either figs or wasps, but even if I were, this email from Andy from Birkenhead would make me consider changing my alliance to prunes and hornets:
I’ve just listened to Episode 185 and the bit about Martin having a vegan friend who wouldn’t eat figs. You mentioned that it seemed daft not eating figs just because a wasp may have laid its eggs in it.
But according to my friend Lindsey, wasps and figs have a symbiotic co-evolutionary relationship – a particular type of wasp (the fig wasp) burrows its way inside a young fig, pollinates it, lays loads of eggs then dies inside the fig. The fig then consumes the nutrients from the dead wasp. Later on the eggs hatch and lots of the baby wasps die, but a few burrow out to go on and live happy waspy lives. See here for a fig giving birth to wasps:
The fig gets pollinated and a juicy waspy snack, and in return the wasp gets somewhere safe to lay her eggs.
But this means that the characteristic crunchiness of figs is partly due to seeds, and partly due to the crunchy decomposing corpses of wasps.
And I guess if you munch your merry way into a fig just before it’s due to ‘give birth’, you’re in for quite a surprise as your mouth fills with scores of baby wasps.
Needless to say, I no longer buy fig rolls.
You might buy them if they were advertised as ‘Fig rolls – fortified with wasp protein! FREE WASPS in every pack!’ It’s really just a matter of marketing.
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