Dear mr McLaren Field I have recently had some painting done in my new house and being a gentleman bore warning to my mrs under no circumstances touch the upstairs bannister as it was still wet. Lo and behold I venture upstairs only to find the paintwork besmirched. What should I have done different?

The woman to whom I am apparently legally associated has a similar problem in that she will "test" drying paint by rubbing a finger in it, thus proving that its still not dry - as a method it works in the same way that setting fire to your house would alleviate the "who does the washing up" problem.

The only proven method to nip this in the bud is to get the little woman herself to do the decorating, I know that it appears to be beyond their life skills and its far removed from knitting, preparing your tea and gossiping over the garden gate, but with perseverance it can be achieved - your dog may learn to decorate before she does but she will eventually capitulate, throw down her "HELLO!" magazine one night and in exasperation storm upstairs with a paint pot and brush calling you all the euphemisms for "lazy buggah" in the world and set about painting the bannisters for herself.

Only then can you be sure that she will not criticize your painting skills, rub her finger along the bannister to test it, or even spray it with Pledge and start dusting it minutes after you have finished, it will take stoicism on your part, you will spend months, sometimes years of sitting on the sofa and repeating the refrain "I'll do it next weekend" but eventually your patience will be rewarded with that rarest of events - a woman who decorates.

And just for the record, The Lifelong Rules of Thumb again...

If a female does not offer to share the bill on a first date, then that should also be the last date, for mark my words, your poor dead wallet will henceforth forever lie in a foreign field called her handbag.

Do not ever drink in a pub with a flat roof.

Do not ever drink in a pub that needs "security" on the door.

Housework is the devils work, if you volunteer to do any of it she will expect you to do that deed. for ever, that is, for the rest of your life - and often from beyond the grave too.

Shopping for anything but cake is simply unacceptable and a vexation to the spirit.

Joint bank accounts are natures way of telling you that you have just been castrated and are now officially classed as female, have you ever noticed how many women work in banks, they rule the nations finances and reached this position of power by inventing joint bank accounts.

Do not ever accept an invitation to go and live in Whitley Bay, ever.

Thanks McF!

I went to Whitley Bay last year on a Stag night.

Very scary place. I thought Magalluff and Faliraki were bad....but Whitley Bay makes those places look like Morecambe!!

Whitley Bay was established as a bail hostel for those on home parole from Alcatraz.

There's a lighthouse near Whitley Bay which is one of the most beautiful places I've been to

You just haven't been far enough thats all.

This is a true story - I once shared workmens digs with a lad from Barnsley who was working to extend the sewage outfall pipe beyond the lighthouse, until then it spewed the whole of North Tynesides sewage out into the sea twenty yards away from that most beautiful place you've ever been to, you can see the pipe when you stand on the lighthouse rock at low tide.

He smelled lovely when he came back to the digs every night and didn't clean under his fingernails before tea either.

Poor lad

He once sat at the table one night and told us how he had seen the biggest turd in his life float past him when he was knee deep in sewage, he stopped it and measured it with a brick, one and a half bricks he said it was and just after that a flat cap floated past, he reckoned the bloke either wiped his [iar[/ise on the cap or died while laying the turd.

Our tea-times were very sophisticated affairs as you can probably tell.

Im off up there in a few weeks time, not sure i'll go turd searching

It's my birthday today Mr Field, I'm 24 now. I celebrated by losing money at Kinsley dog track on Saturday night.

Question is, is it acceptable to celebrate again tonight?

As with all things its important to get the ground rules established before going forward in life, even for millionaires living in rough areas, its still important.

For instance, many years ago I established precedence by taking my birthday off as holiday and I still do to this day, the fact that its also my wedding anniversary has become an irrelevance as its now known globally as "My Birthday Holiday", nothing else is allowed to eclipse this, why even on our 25th wedding anniversary I took her out for "My birthday meal" and I bought myself a present of a nice watch while we were out.

None of this would have been possible had I not had to endure years of anguish, toil and grief from herself when I repeatedly ignored our wedding anniversary in favour of my birthday and I sense from the very fact of you having to ask the question that it is "Her" who is questioning the need for you to celebrate your birthday twice, you need to nip this quickly in the bud and inform her that its always been the custom for you to celebrate your birthday for a whole week of going out to the pub with your mates and you have no intention of letting your mates down, who even now are waiting to recommence the birthday celebrations.

Before she has the time to construct a half decent argument tell her to "Chop chop and get your coat on, you're driving", giving her an approximate time to return and pick you up.

It will be much easier next year, believe me.

Good day Mr Field!

I have been invited to a jazz night at the end of this month. Other than the [url=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KHy7DGLTt8gEpic Sax Guy[/url, I don’t like Jazz music at all. How do I decline the invitation?

This is a difficult one young Damo.

Under normal circumstances and for anyone else I would simply say "Tell them that you have another appointment on your calendar for that date" but of course everyone knows that your calendar is as empty as the Chancellor of the Exchequers Fund for Absolutely Necessary Public Services, if you said that you had another appointment on that night, or even in that month then we'd hear the laughter from here in sunny LS16.

I think what you need to do is to start to p1ss off your hosts right now, I'd suggest that you take up the wearing of a black beret at a jaunty angle, grow a goatee beard and bushy eyebrows, wear a black turtle neck pullover at all times with black trousers and reply to every question with "Yeah, man", smoke a cigarette theatrically and with the use of a long cigarette holder, draw deeply on it and then hold it at face level but away from your face while easing out a "Thats jazz, man" in a dreamy, smoky voice - even when queueing at the supermarket.

Refuse to drink beer and insist on a tall glass of absynth or pernod and a carafe of water, start to utter random phrases to strangers such as "Now you has jazz" or "Mmmmmmm, that Coltrane makes his stick, lick", call your mother "chick" and call your pretend girlfriend "momma" and if all else fails lay down in a gutter outside your local pub at closing time and scat in the style of Roy Castle.

If you work hard you'll find that your host will be ringing you within a couple of days to tell you that unfortunately the event has been cancelled even when it hasn't really and that he doesn't know when the next one is even though he does really.

Wheels, you should have given me a shout on Saturday night, I was a Kinsley dogs too, and managed to pick 5 winners out of 13. I was quite proud of myself, although the last few races were a blur as I think I had spent my winnings by that time on booze !

Why is it when you win at the dogs, you insist on buying the people you are with a drink, just because you back a winner ? "Oh don't worry, I'll get these with my winnings"............"oh well in that case it's tequila shots all around".

I'm never doing it again !

The secret to this is to visit a racing establishment where Honest Maurice the Flambouyant Flying Bookie of Wigan plys his trade, I recommend Doncaster Nags as one place that he frequents, others might suggest a more public and convenient place but we are straying away from the point in question.

You need to place a bet with Honest Mo and retain the slip, to be produced at a future time and date at a venue where your nag or dog has just brought home the spoils and when your mates all turn to you with the gambling mans refrain of "Your winnings, your round, double shots..." you simply wave the slip in the air, keep a long face and declare, "fraid not lads, for I placed my wager with Honest Mo..." and they will all instantly understand, in fact so deep will be their understanding that they may even buy you a drink whilst growling in the direction of Honest Mo.

I feel that I have now gained a much more insightful insight into this world that we live in.

....into this world in which we live.
HTH

Ah, I see that you adhere to the view that a preposition is something you shouldn't end a sentence with.




Churchill said that ending a sentence with a preposition was something up with which he would not put.

Personally, I see no harm in it.

Indeed, or Damo could have saved himself by putting "..into this world we inhabit."
I just wanted it to be a change from "being" etc.

Dear McF. How did you rise through the ranks to mod overlord?

I bribed my way and used false ID, I have found this to be an excellent way to conduct oneself in most awkward and/or professional situations.

Look out for The Rex Loz-lad.

And the infamous [url=http://jerrychicken.wordpress.com/2010/03/08/grab-a-granny-night/grab a granny night[/url