MonkeyBroth’s own life-style guru, agony aunt and part time goat hunter, Simon Thrombosis helps you with those tricky life decisions and problems. And with no formal training too!
Darby Dale of Flab Corner writes: Dear Si, I’ve recently started having panic attacks when presented with mushrooms and other fungi. For most, this wouldn’t be a problem, but my work with the Forestry Commission means that these things are part and parcel of my day. It’s become so bad that during the scoping of a fire break project in Ashdown forest, I came face to face with a plate fungus and ran for over 4 hours to get away from it, eventually taking up a hiding place under the table of the Red Lion pub in Chelwood Gate. I laughed it off as a prank to my colleagues, but I’m not sure they bought in to my explanation. Please help!
Si writes: Hey Darby, irrational fears are so named because they are both fears and irrational. That’s a fact! But, we have to trace the fear back to its nucleus. I suspect that you had an occurrence such as a break in by burglars disguised as Toad from Super Mario or some such. Without that centre, it’s difficult to help, but can I suggest that you tell your colleagues? You may run the risk of being forever ridiculed, losing your job and the respect of your peers, but needs must eh? You’re welcome.
Dekin Dumpvalve from Leaky Grange writes: Since I was a boy, I always feared that my thumbs are plotting with my spleen to take over my cognitive functions and cause carnage. I swear that I can hear them whispering to one another just before I fall asleep. Does this happen to other people or am I special? I’d love to be special.
Si writes: OK Leaky, this may sound a little strange to you, but usually in these occasions, it’s your bladder that is the puppet master and the thumbs and spleens are just henchmen doing its bidding. I’d say go with it. The bladder is actually quite an astute character and I know number of high-profile celebrities that gave over control and never looked back. They do tend to spend quite a lot of time in the lavatory, but you have to take the rough with the smooth. Happy to help.
Jervis Practicalmouse from Skive writes: Last month, I lost my entire collection of Roy Hattersley signed prints in a house fire caused by a faulty cheese grater. Somewhat understandably, I’m distraught as the collection was both irreplaceable and implausible. Last week, I physically harmed a man who was loudly talking derogatively about Roy’s time working under Dennis Healey whilst shopping in Budgens. I feel it’s now somewhat out of my control. Stop my grief. Make the pain go away…
SI writes: I’m very sorry for your loss Jervis. I’m afraid that the grieving process has to be carried through before you can feel better. But in the meantime, can I suggest you avoid situations that are likely to present Roy as a subject of everyday conversation? Your trip to Budgens was particularly risky when viewed from that perspective. I’d also avoid steelworks. Glad to have been of assistance.
Well, that was concise and well advised as usual. Si will return mainly because we believe he’s found somewhere to live in the heating system and maintenance has been unable to flush him out.
You celestial thing you – by Jenny Hatswitch
Oh moon why is it that,
At evening time you make me swoon,
When you are gibbous it sends me a flutter,
Your colour akin to some slightly off butter.
Your evening display quintessentially lunar,
After which I feel like having a bhuna,
I know that this sounds so strange to you moon,
But that you’re a rock to me is a boon.
So Moon, never leave me here all alone,
I wish for your heavenly body to be shown,
While I’m not quite sure that I’d be suicidal,
I do feel my mood swings are massively tidal.
Bodily terrors – by Gloria Headtorch
There are noses in my dreams,
Snorting and snuffling and tooting and bubbling,
There are noses in my dreams,
The sort of thing that makes sleep so troubling
Knees feature quite prominently too,
Clicking and clacking and knobbly and retching,
Although I’d wish for something new,
It’s knees and not even ones that are fetching
Don’t get me started on the kidneys,
They frighten me most and make waking a pleasure,
They make me sleep-punch my Sidney,
He says that it’s fine and to punch at my leisure
The lobes! The lobes! Oh Christ yes the lobes,
Most often lobes scare me half blind,
And while I’m worrying about them in droves,
Stalking eyelashes sneak from behind
So while my night terrors are full to the brim,
With feelings of dread and foreboding,
Body parts full of most murderous vim,
With arms on the side-lines still goading.
Hubbida hubbida, wik, wik, wikki, wha, full on BOOOOM! Ya, da pig return for moar mayhem init!
Disco pig been away on one of dem foreign exchange programmes. Big up to ma main Frenchies Monsour et Madam Porc who bin puttin’ up wiv me for six months while Disco Pig been improving meself. Da ladies love da French talk init! C’est combien mon pretty pretty? Guaranteed pullin’ powwa!
Anyway, me still bin keepin’ up with all da latest choons so here’s ma chart throw down…. Frappant Mélodie!
Peter Fry up and the Desk Clocks – I got that feeling of goat in me
PoorlyR4t – Mocha latta chatter flatter platter
Captain Spoonwright – What’s good for the moose is good for the Flanders
Hurdy-Schmurdy-Glockenspiel – The fox obviously says ‘AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH’
The Dickinson – Tan come, Tan go
Massive Economic Landslide Panda Car Collective – You can’t crack nuts with celebrity butts
The Focaccias – Honestly Betty, I thought it was going to stain the wilton.
Blink One One Eight – Repetitive, irritating, meaningless and moustached
Tiresome – They appear not to be at home Samual
Goodwood Illness – Throwin’ up in a Yaris
The Rubbish Bodgers – A colander does not a good boat maketh…
Literal Steve – This is a song that I wrote about some emotions that I once experienced
Data Moth – Light bulb binary
Often overlooked due to their dour markings, the Pocket Snake is surely one of our most fascinating indigenous Biffordshire creatures.
The uninteresting skin of the Pocket snake is, in fact, one of its greatest defences. In the 1920s, the dandy Biffordshire blades around town would use the quality of their belts as a mark of their aristocratic social status. Only a lowly social climber would ever stoop to a belt made from the pelt of the dowdy Pocket Snake meaning their numbers remained high.
Due to their commonality, and their unusual preferred habitat, they are regarded as a pest by many. The Pocket Snake is attracted by the strong odour of ammonia and thus tend to take up residence in men’s toilets. Indeed, I’m sure you’ll agree that it is almost impossible to use the lavatories at a public house with seeing a Pocket Snake or two.
Because of their unusual choice of residence, the Pocket Snake has developed an extraordinary diet, feasting as they do on urinal cakes. This has caused the species to become the focus of a number of studies headed by the Biffordshire Polytechnic College.
Bryan Flocculation – Assistant Technician explains – “When we first heard reports of the Pocket Snake’s evolving eating habits, we couldn’t understand how the creature had adapted its biological makeup to safely digest urinal cakes. What’s more interesting is that we still don’t. Possibly never will. That’s why we’re studying it I suppose.
“We’ve currently setting up test centres within over 10 local pub toilets so that we can study Pocket Snakes more closely.”
Due to their docility, Pocket Snakes are becoming the pet of choice for trendy youngsters. Many clubs have sprung up to cater for this latest fad and are fast becoming a favourite hangout for the Biffordshire youth.
Dylan O’Ermatron of the Cleft Pocket Snake Handlers explains the attraction – “We get together as often as possible to show off our Snakes. They are such affectionate creatures and love to be stroked and played with.
“They are the perfect pets as they generally don’t grow too big to manage, although our treasurer Clifford has a fully grown adult that is over 12 inches long! That is quite a size for a Pocket Snake!
“They are addictive and difficult to put down as they are lovely to handle – so smooth and sleek. Although I do have to put ‘Little Dylan’ away at dinner time as my Mother won’t let me have him on the table.
“A word of warning to anyone thinking about owning a Pocket Snake though, is to not buy one off the street. I was offered one by a man in a long coat who was hanging around the park the other day. I’m not sure what it was that he showed me, but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t a Pocket Snake. It certainly wasn’t any species that I’ve ever seen before as it only had one eye.”