All your personal matters dealt with, mostly anonymously and occassionally with care and respect, by our husband and wife team Errol and Agnes Hitchens.



Dear Errol and Agnes, my husband has recently taken to wearing a stag's head during sex and making loud feral animal noises during what he calls his 'rutting'. He is also filming proceedings and after coming reverts to commentating on everything  like David  bloody Attenborough.

What should I do?

I should add I quite enjoy the rutting but the post-coital safari suit and breathy commentary are ruining the mood.

Yours Sincerely,

Concerned Houswife (68)


Errol Says:                                        

Agnes Says:                                  

Good on your husband for livening up proceedings with a bit of imagination in the bedroom !! Many women would love sex to be more primal and closer to the wild and unfettered method used by animals.
 
I agree the post coital commentary may be somewhat offputting however. Could you suggest a slightly less offputting role model, say a bearded Oddie or a lisping Bellamy?

And watch out for goring from those antlers, keep a file handy to smooth the rough edges. Other than that happy rutting.

Incidentally, is the film commercially available ?


Pardon my husband for being a complete fucking ignoramus. He might think that women love a bit of 'primal loving', that's why he goes at proceedings squealing and wheezing like a ruptured donkey.

And 'somewhat offputting' is what he calls the idiotic Attenborough stuff.

Christ.

Typical of him that is, the 'man' that turns over, scratches himself and switches on the football highlights after our very occassional one night a week of passion. Arsehole.

Give your husband a good slap and tell him he's old enough to know better. Burn the safari suit and smash the camera up with his stupid antlers.

And ignore that film availibility question, he won't be seeing it.



 

 ANAL  LOVE WEEK
  September 14th - September 21st 


Don't forget to wear your brown ribbon ring with pride                                                                             


 Howdy Agnes and Errol, following an incident brought on by a power cut and a game of sardines, I accidentally made love to one of my grandson's friends.

Given the darkness and the quantity of pile ointment I was using, I am unaware if he was aware it was me. I think I may be in love.

What should I do?

Yours uncertainly,

Confused Great Grandmother (93)


Errol says:                                            Agnes Says :                                              

Fair play to you at your age, still playing sardines!!

Given the circumstances of the unusual situation, and the potential for causing a family dispute involving you and your grandson, I would remain quiet about the matter for now.

Your letter suggests the gentleman concerned is somewhat younger and , although it pains me to tell you this, any lengthy relationship is unlikely.

Enjoy the time you had together but perhaps look for a companion closer to your own age and enjoy your time with him. I know you think you're in love, but this raw emotion will fade in time and save from pain and potential embarassment in the future.

Put the whole matter down to a mistake and just remember the memory fondly.

                                               
 Mistake? I'll tell you what's a mistake, marrying you, you miserable bloody wet weekend.

First up congratulations on getting your hole dear. And not only at 93 too, but up the wrong 'un?

Result.

Ignore old Heartbreak Hotel over there, you want a repeat performance, and time is of the essence, if you don't mind me saying so.

You don't a relationship anyways dear, you just want to concentrate on stocking up on more of the same for yourself, whenever you can get it.

My advice is to stock up on the pile cream, take out some fuses and drop some heavy hints about more games of sardines with m'laddo.

Who knows, if my experience of men is anything to go by, he might be happy enough squeezing into a tight space with you all over again, if you get my drift.

Any port in a storm for those dirty animals love, it really is.