Dear Dreary.
Every time i travel by public transport i develop a stiffy. Nothing to do with the movement or vibrations, its the conductresses. Ugly, fat, and unfriendly, they do things to me when they root around for change in their bumbags and struggle to tear off my ticket. I always make sure that i present a twenty pound note, just to see the sexy expression of annoyance on their flabby faces. I once got talking to a particularly bad looking specimin on the last tram one friday night. I asked her if she fancied a nightcap, but when she said that she had to guide the tram into its shed for the night i swear i very nearly creamed myself.
I am currently in Blackpool for the weekend for the annual tram drivers convention, and boy am i worn out! I never realised there were so many female tram drivers. I now realise i have been blind all these years. Why have i been messing around with the second in command when i could have been ogling the main girl? I now always sit right behind the driver and lick my travel pass suggestively as i watch her nimble fingers twiddle nobs and flick switches.
How i would love to be a tram! My life is coming off the rails somewhat with all the frustration. Whats the point? I've lived a very sheltered life, and need to get back on track. I am lacking some electricity in my life, and have now resorted to tramadol.
What can i do?
Yours, Dick Nerd, Starr Gate.

Dear Dick.
My auntie Betty is a tram driver. Proper brute she is, looks like a bloke who's had a sex change.
If you like, I could pass on your details to her and she could 'sh e-mail' you directly.
She could give you a tour around the back of the old tram sheds before punching your ticket.
She might give you a free ride before taking you off to the changing rooms to help her shave her back before she goes home.
Ok with you?
Fondest,
Dreary. x

Does she wear a peaked cap?

Fez, smokes a pipe!