Dear Surly....
...I sprayed my wife's parrot with deodorant to make him ill just so I could get her back home.
I'm 32 and my wife is 30. She left me two months ago, taking my nine-year-old son with her. I'd been drinking too much. I treated her like dirt and forgot her 30th birthday. I didn't desire her sexually either. But I hated the house being empty. I tried flowers and an "I love you" sign at the end of her road but realised the only way to get her home was through her beloved parrots.
So I sprayed one with deodorant. A few days later it became ill so I took it to the vets and paid the bill. It was simple. I became her hero and she came home.
Do I admit what I've done or live with the guilt? I can't cope with an empty house again.
Martin, Slough.
Dear Martin,
Um, excuse me? You did what? What sort of a person goes from flowers and "I love you" to attacking a parrot with anti-perspirant? And now you want to tell your wife? Jesus.
My advice to you, Martin, is to say nothing. Nothing At All. Although you might want to invest in a little therapy on the side to try and understand not only what made you formulate this frankly ridiculous plan but also why you are the sort of person who, not content with randomly squirting household pets with deodorant, needs to write to a national newspaper to find out if you ought to fess up.
Oh, and one more thing. Buy roll-on from now on. You know it makes sense.
UPDATE: For the sake of clarity I feel I should point out that this letter appeared on the Saturday problem pages of a national newspaper. People do not email their problems to me. I am not that sane/popular. Please do not email your problems to me - I have enough of my own, thank you.
I'm 32 and my wife is 30. She left me two months ago, taking my nine-year-old son with her. I'd been drinking too much. I treated her like dirt and forgot her 30th birthday. I didn't desire her sexually either. But I hated the house being empty. I tried flowers and an "I love you" sign at the end of her road but realised the only way to get her home was through her beloved parrots.
So I sprayed one with deodorant. A few days later it became ill so I took it to the vets and paid the bill. It was simple. I became her hero and she came home.
Do I admit what I've done or live with the guilt? I can't cope with an empty house again.
Martin, Slough.
Dear Martin,
Um, excuse me? You did what? What sort of a person goes from flowers and "I love you" to attacking a parrot with anti-perspirant? And now you want to tell your wife? Jesus.
My advice to you, Martin, is to say nothing. Nothing At All. Although you might want to invest in a little therapy on the side to try and understand not only what made you formulate this frankly ridiculous plan but also why you are the sort of person who, not content with randomly squirting household pets with deodorant, needs to write to a national newspaper to find out if you ought to fess up.
Oh, and one more thing. Buy roll-on from now on. You know it makes sense.
UPDATE: For the sake of clarity I feel I should point out that this letter appeared on the Saturday problem pages of a national newspaper. People do not email their problems to me. I am not that sane/popular. Please do not email your problems to me - I have enough of my own, thank you.
posted by surly girl at 5:21 pm
13 Comments:
Excellent advice, Surly Girl. You might feel sorry for the parrot, but I assure you that it would have behaved just as ruthlessly had the boot been on the other foot. Parrots are the worst sneaks in the jungle, so I'd advise him to tape its beak for the next month or so.
Is he Sure?
I'd keep Mum if I were him.
This must be real. Viz wouldn't make something up this sick.
Ah, fond memories of John Cleese :-)
This was genuinely in the Sun's 'Dear Deidre' coloumn on Saturday. You do have to question how many of those letters are actually from real people and not just made up by staff to see if they can get the most ridiculous one published !
Phew .. thanks for clarifying. I thought it was sent direct. I couldn't fathom why someone reading a blog would get all confessional and out of context .. writing a letter like that to the Sun however, makes perfect sense!
I'm a bit disappointed that it wasn't acually an e-mail sent to Surly. At least it would've proved that someone was getting even weirder e-mails than some of the ones I receive!
Why would you do something so bizarre (and presmably expensive in term sof vet's bills) to win back someone you don't even want to shag anymore? Was she that efficient a Hooverer?
Perhaps he was jealous because she was getting a Cockatoo...?
Hey! That's amazing. A very similar, yet subtly different thing happened to me just the other day: that forgetting of my significant birthday, not being desired sexually and me walking out on H.
But my parrot really was sick and H was an utter hero in noticing, so I have moved back in.
Also my husband is not called Martin (heaven forbid, I can put up with most things but "Martin" would stretch the band beyond its elastic limit)
BTW my hoovering is rubbish, but my cooking's not bad.
ohgodpleasebejoking...
Don't worry Surly, my money's on Betty!!
There's no better way to say I love you than to rescue a pet you have brought to the brink of death.
Err, right.
I like it here. Can I visit again?
Post a Comment
<< Home