Dear Bee-Dubya-Ell,

I have it on good authority that Jane went commando most of the time, but wore undies on Sundays.

- Chongo

Dear Rapparee,

Stop showin' off, okay? We all know that you know almost as much about guns and ammo as Madonna does about rare sexual practices and positions, and we ain't impressed. Not by you, I mean. By Madonna? Well....maybe.

- Chongo

Dear Will Fly,

Go bugger yer aunt's walrus.

Got a problem with that?

- Chongo

Dear Dave Hanson,

I useta get paid in peanuts a long time ago on the streets of New York, back in the "Dirty Thirties". Now I get paid in cash, by check, and sometimes in fresh fruit, and occasionally even in booze. Whatever gets ya by, right?

- Chongo

Dear Hot Girlz,

You ask how you can "find a rich western man, that's willing to spend lots of $ on me, would welcome my huge extended family into his home, and not place any icky sexual demands on me?"

Well...Ook! Ook! ;-D You have made my day askin' this question, Hot Girlz. The fact is, it would probably be a lot easier to find Jimmy Hoffa. Or the Fountain of Youth. Or the True Cross. Or water in the Sahara. Or an honest politician. But, hey, that's not sayin' it's completely impossible, right? Just very, very unlikely. I hafta admire yer optimism!

Then you go on to say you "only got stale air from old folkiez-fartz with ponyz tailz and long earz and nasal hairz".

You been hearin' from Bobertz, aintcha? Lissen up good here, Hot Girlz. You would be makin' the hugest mistake of yer life to get tangled up with Bobertz...or any of these other burnt-out old folkie characters you mighta been hearin' from. They are mostly real crabby, cos whatever dreams they once had in their youth have pretty well dried up, see? And they gotta take it out on someone. Most days they just take it out on each other by fightin' about politics, hurlin' insults and scorn, makin' snide remarks, and carryin' on their little feuds here in the daily snake pit. But what if YOU was to move in with one of 'em? What then?

Well, I'm predictin' that it would be all wine and roses for a short while...till reality set in. Soon you would find yerself bein' blamed for everything that was goin' wrong in their miserable lives. You would become a doormat, a scratchin' post, a dog to be kicked when things ain't goin' just right. On top of that, you would have to put up with all them creepy sexual demands. They'd be askin' you to do mudwrestlin' with other Ukrainian Girlz and sleazy stuff like that while they watched and tuned up their damn banjos and beat on their bodhrans. It makes me sick just thinkin' about it.

Here is the thing, Hot Girlz. You been advertisin' in the wrong place, see? Fire whoever is doin' yer ads up and get somebody who has a clue what he's doing. Besides which, ain't there any nice men left in the Ukraine, fer Chrissake?

- Chongo

Dear Sugarfoot Jack,

What you need to do, Jack, is petition the government to dig a canal or estuary from the sea directly to your local moorlands. Soon you will have plenty of whelks right at your doorstep. Have you got any dirt on yer local or national politicians? That could be quite helpful.

- Chongo