Dear Dreary.
I have been suffering from a heavy cold recently and my girlfriend realised yesterday morning that she had a tampon missing. I remember sniffing up a lot the previous evening whilst performing oral sex on her. Could this cause any lasting damage to me? I have coughed up a little blood since. Could this be from the tampon? By the way, this is not the first time that my flared nostrils
have created problems for me. A fly once flew up there and i swallowed it. I don't know why i swallowed the fly,but a small bird followed it and before i knew what the hell was going on i swallowed a cat to catch the bird and then a dog to catch the cat that caught the bird that ate the fly that then wriggled and tickled inside me. I am now thinking of taking advantage of these strange events by marketing this idea as the latest fad diet. It's kinda like the Atkins in that it's mostly protein, but it is made up entirely of small livestock. It kills your appetite as it takes so long to digest, and I've been spitting feathers (and bones!) ever since. My breath smells something rotten, I am horrendously constipated, my teeth are falling out, and i've started sneaking out at night to bring presents back for my wife such as live mice and insects. I've lost half a stone in two weeks. Do you think it might catch on? i'm also thinking of writing a song about it.
Burl Ives, Dallas.

My dear Burl.
It sounds alot more sensible than some if the diets I've read about that are out there.
In Australia one woman ate a crocodile that ate an aborigine that ate skippy that ate a banana out of the aborigines' tucker box down by the billabong.
In the USA Godzilla ate king kong who ate that bird he was fiddling with up the tower who ate a dodgy curry that soiled king kongs finger which made him really cross.
Then of course in Blackpool there was Darren who ate Simon who ate Rubin who ate Tarquin who ate Barry who ate Sacha and Julian, oh they lapped it up.
Your's is quite boring in comparison.
Yawn, NEXT!!!
Dreary. x
Sorry if i've bored you. You have tho reminded me of an old Abo i bumped into once in the sixties, on a lonely dirt track just outside Gundaguy in the Northern Territories. He taught me this poem:
'It was'nt that the track was wet,or that my throat was dry. But my dog shat in my tuckerbox,on the road to Gundaguy.'