Dear Hillary,
I’ve been here for about 10 years already and it beats me how all these blokes get themselves into so much trouble with the local girls, and end up writing in to you for advice (but you can’t help these people). Surely they know that their most important feeture (sic) lies in their trousers, and it’s not in the crutch, but in the pockets. Don’t they know it after all this time? Who would go out with these sad sacks if they weren’t being paid? Somebody called them the “living dead” and I reckon that’s about the best they would be. The local girls will soon finnish (sic) them off, or at least their bank accounts.
Pool table Pete
Dear Pool table Pete,
You sound like you’re speaking from experience. Been ripped off too? But aren’t you the high and mighty one now? So what if these “living dead” as you and your friends call them are getting a little fun and excitement in their lives, even if it is towards the end. At last count there were no pockets in shrouds, so they can’t take it with them. Why not have a little fun, even if they are paying for it? In their own countries, they can’t even pay for some fun, as all the moralists come down on such an idea. When you look at it all, without putting some sort of judgment on it, it is a win-win situation all round. He gets looked after, while she gets money to send home to mother who will be looking after the baby left to her by the boyfriend who ran away as soon as he knew she was pregnant. It may not be the ideal situation, Pete, but we live in an imperfect world. Just like your spelling. Learn to live and let live, Petal.
