Dear Agony Aunts
My husband has long been an avid fan of motor racing & spends hours watching a procession of garishly coloured machines parade round a tarmac circuit on TV. Frankly this works fine for me as it allows me to get on with my life & play a little golf.
This weekend, after a Grand Prix, as they are called, he asked me to dress up in his old scout uniform & beat him with the woggle. I told him that there was no way I would fit into his scout uniform & that he needed to get out more! He was very disappointed & has suggested that we buy a larger, new scout uniform & perhaps I could oblige him after next weekend.
This is all getting very strange, what should I do?
Men & their machines!
We’d suggest that you get him to drop the idea of the scout uniform (too worrying that one & scarcely tailored to bring-out your best features) & settle for something a little simpler & a lot more feminine & expensive; you should then humour him by thrashing him to within an inch of his life, ideally with something flexible & containing metal spikes. When he recovers consciousness use an electric cattle prod on him until he passes out for the remainder of the weekend.
After one session we think you’ll find that he’s lost interest in the whole S&M thing (& probably motorsports also).