Dear Dreary.
Every time i lick a stamp to put on an envelope my wife has an orgasm.
It's not too bad when we're at home although Christmas can be quite challenging. Birthday cards, spot the ball coupons and the Freemans catalogue always end up in an accident on the breakfast room carpet.
It's obviously most embarrassing down at the post office. The whole area in front of the glass screens had to be evacuated last Tuesday when my wife lost control as we weighed a second class parcel bound for Australia. It took three cleaners armed with a Vileda and bucket to pronounce the area safe. I dread to think what she'd have been like had we sent it first class.
Have you any idea when a new communication system might be developed to spare my wife and I from this constant shaming?
Please be quick, the vicar's just popped round and I need to post my Blue Peter competition.
Harry Paddley,
Puddleton On The Piss

Dear Harry.
Good god man. 1). Go to living room cupboard. 2). Take out big yellow book that postie Pat brings once a year. 3). Under 'C', locate nearest branch of shop named Currys. 4). Drive to said shop 5).Purchase either item A. computer or B. laptop. 6). Join rest of planet on remarkable development named internet. 7). Forget letters and cards : fucking email people. Alternatively, do nothing and just enjoy the fringe benefits. Save all necessary stamp licking until the two of you are tucked up in bed and hey presto : a satisfying little quickie every time! Start a stamp collection and see how she responds to a penny black. Spoil her a little and make a fus of her every now and then. As all us women know, a little philately gets you everywhere!
Dreary.xx