Preternatural Postbag
Dr
E.mann’s
Dear Dr E. Mann, I need your help. My batty old aunt appears to have gotten herself in a bit of a situation with the neighbours. Let’s just say that she is in a position of authority within the community, but despite her most strong and stable intentions, she’s had a shocker of a month. Firstly, she found out that not as many people like her as she thought, which upset her as everyone kept telling her how lovely she was to her face. Secondly, she met these Irish fellas who she thought would be just the ticket to help with maintenance, only it turns out that they have had a bit of a chequered history and may have somewhat old fashioned views when it comes to women. And men, actually. Basically, they’re not particularly nice in general. Can you sue your impressive psychic abilities to look into the future and tell me the best way to get everyone to love Aunty T again? whatsthetorymorningglory69, Trowse
Dear Whats, Te problem here is that the usual methods of prediction can be very unreliable in these situations. Sometimes, when something looks like a sure thing, it can turn out to be a very different result. Consequently, I’ll just give you some reality: your aunt has proper dropped a bollock, and should resign from her position forthwith. It won’t make people
love her again, but it will stop her from ballsing things up any further. Maybe she could make way for that nice gentleman that runs the allotments.
Dear Dr E. Mann, Firstly, love your work. I want some answers about the future and you’re just the “mann” to help. My brother reckons that the future is all about to turn to shit, and that the best thing to do is to start storing food, water, etc. in the cellar under the house. I think he’s mental, but then you watch the news... I had a dream the other night that I was bartering with the neighbours for petrol, and Sue from number 30 was so desperate for food that she offered to nosh me off for a Pot Noodle. On the one hand, if anyone’s getting noshed off in an apocalypse I want to be on the fun end; on the other hand, I had just watched Mad Max and it could all just be a load of over reactionary bollocks. Tell me - are we looking at Road Warriors within our lifetime? thelastofthev8interjectors, address withheld
Dear Te, As much fun as all that sounds – what with fellatio for snack foods and bombing about in pimped golf-carts – I’m afraid it’s a future of relative mundanity for you according to my runes. Having said that, it’s probably a good idea to stock up on Pot Noodles. Maybe throw in a Pepperami.
Astrology, tea leaves, tarot… I am the professor of prediction,
the doctor of destiny. If you require guidance into a difficult situation, or simply want to know what the future holds, then look no further. Want proof? You’ve suffered a great loss, haven’t you. It made you very upset, didn’t it. Was it an elderly relative? Of course it was. Avada Kedavra!
Dear Dr E. Mann, I need to get beach ready by the summer, and I’ve not exactly lived up to my plan which was to start exercising after Christmas. I say “not exactly”, but I mean “at all”. As such, I was watching the TV late at night and I saw an advert for one of those electric pad doodahs that you strap onto yourself and – hey presto – it tones your muscles without you even needing to get off the couch. As you can imagine, this does apparently present the answer to all my problems. My only question is will it work? I’m willing to cut down to chips twice a week, beer at the weekends only, and then it’s simply a matter of sitting on the sofa getting fitter by the volt. Dr, please can you look into the future and tell me how my six pack looks? bellyshopper69, Moulton
Dear Belly, I used my Ouija board to bring forth the spirit of Jim Fixx, the 80’s health guru who died at age 52 while running. He rattled and clanked about a bit going “oooh”, and then told me you shouldn’t bother. He said to do as much drinking, eating, shagging, smoking, and hard drugs as you can while you’re still alive. He may not have been the best person to ask, though. I initially tried to get that Joe Wicks, but he’s not dead yet.
Dear Dr E Mann, I am a serial masturbator. Wank wank wank. Wanky
wanky wank wank all the live long day. I just can’t stop spilling my seed on stony ground, if you get my drift. Frap frap frappity frap. Tug tug blap. I don’t need any advice, I just thought I’d share it with you. Having said that, my bellend looks like Rudolph’s nose some mornings. Or like Matt Lucas’s head after a hatless holiday in Mexico. Arriba! Anonymouse, address withheld
Dear Anon, No name, no question, just a base confession about your predilection for fast ’n’ furious self-abuse. Are we scraping the bottom of the barrel this soon? Maybe we should go back to writing horoscopes, then I could just tell you all what’s happening in your lives in a less specific - and more importantly, a more distanced - kind of way. How did this even come through anyway? Honestly, it’s like my email box is just making shit up. Just in case you are a real person – put your dick down!
Running out of space, so just enough room to tell Gery of Unthank Road – give it three days, and if it still hurts, it’s too big; Lucy of Spixworth – deny it, and if they don’t believe you, fake a heart attack; darkhorse69 of Brampton – It can be as much as 500 ml, so wear a hat; and Grindrdaddy of NR3 – If it’s not illegal, it probably should be. Either way, you’ll have to put down some newspaper.
-Mail DrEMann@outlineo
nline.co.uk for psychic advice- 8 / JULY 2017 /
OUTLINEONLINE.CO.UK
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