Usual disclaimers apply.
Hello there, my favourite Scumbags!
YES, it's true : Bors is starting a career as columnist and general agony uncle, here in 'the Fort Camlann Gazette'. Dispensing advice, common sense and an ear for listening to all o' yer troubles, great an' small. Problems with the ladies? Need help raisin' the kids? Disputes between friends? Practical solutions? Legal questions when settling debt after a game o' dice? Or just plain feelin' down on your luck?
Bors answers all (ALL!) questions, and he's here to listen to all o' you! Let's kick off wi' a few o' the letters which I've received as a reaction to the adverts down the mess.
Hello Bors.
I, er... I mean, a FRIEND of mine would like to know how you get in contact with the ladies, and make them like you. Do you have any advice?
Sincerely,
Galah... Tristan.
Why hello, Galahad.
First off, don't be shy about askin' yer uncle Bors. It's always possible to be anonymous, or sign with a pseudonym.
Speaking of which, even though I know Tristran doesn' read, I think 'ed appreciate it if ye spelled 'is name right.
So. Wanting to know abou' the ladies, eh, Gal? I am surprised with as much time as you spend hangin' about with Gawain. What with 'im callin' 'imself 'Big G.' an' all, I'd 'ave hoped he'd 'ave taught you a trick or two.
But then, he always was a sod. Actually, would you do yer uncle Bors a huge favour an' be so kind as to tell 'im he still owes me 5 sestertiae? An' so help me if he doesn' pay 'em back by next new moon I'll 'ave to bash 'is head in.
Have a good one,
Bors.
Dear Bors.
One of our acquaintances recently can't find his piquante french lingerie. He is a fellow of somewhat unstable temperament so we'd like to resolve the situation as quickly as possible. We're both in a bit of a hurry. Do you have any advice?
sincerely,
Brad and Janet.
Hello there, ye two lovebirds.
Fancy undergarments aren't me regular area of expertise (to be honest, I find undergarments in general to be suspicious. Also, they send you itchin').
However, ye might try and search for yer friend's clothing at my friend Lance's place. He collects all sorts of odd things.
If ye 'ave no luck, try confrontin' 'im with yer predicament. If he won't spill the beans, hit 'im with a hammer an' take off 'is armor.
The rest should be as easy as doin' the Time Warp.
Good Luck,
Your uncle Bors
Dear Bors,
Every time my son meets a new child, boy or girl, he promptly hits them over the head with his fist. How can I break him of this habit?
Sincerely,
Distraught mother.
Bors is afraid he doesn' understand what the problem is.
Please be advised that this is a serious column for folks wi' REAL trouble on their mind, an' stop wastin' my time.
B.
P.S. : Give me luv to da as well. xx
Dear Bors,
I'm writing you to ask for a bit of marital guidance, as I understand you yourself are a spouse and father of 12.
I am a King by profession, which is a busy career, and sometimes I worry that my wife somehow feels unappreciated. She has taken to some rather peculiar habits lately. I do not usually write to newspaper columns, in fact, I must stress that the thought had never, ever crossed my mind before. However, the situation is starting to make me feel somewhat insecure, and I thought it better to seek out counsel rather than let my marriage suffer.
The long and short of it is that she's lately taken to wearing underwear of a sort usually worn by males. Furthermore, I somehow felt sure I'd seen the garments in question somewhere, probably in the male partition of the thermal baths. Yes, I have to admit it. I couldn't help but suspect that she, shall we say, were less than faithful.
However, when I confronted her, quite understandably she became very distraught. I realise that somehow I must be the problem, and would like to know whether you know of any good self-help groups for husbands suffering from unwarranted jealousy?
Best regards,
A.P.
Dear A.
My buddy Dag 'ere told me to tell you that if you want to be anonymous, in this case it might not be the best choice to put your profession. The King-sector is small, and everyone knows each other.
So much for the counsel from Dag. As for meself, I have only this to say :
You're being had, mate. Take it from me. You really are.
Bors.
Hey Bors,
One o' me friends 'as been losin' face cos' of one o' one o' the Fort Scouts. It's tha creepy one with the bird, ye know, the one nobody likes. He din' show proper respect an' seemed to think all the legionnaires o' the 2nd cohorte are a bunch o' sissies. He din' really SAY it, bu' my friend said he could see thas' wha' he thought.
Now, we've decided to teach 'im a lesson, if you catch my drift, we reckon since no-one likes 'im, no-one'll miss 'im.
By our reckoning, the two of us'll be enough to take 'im down. What d'ye reckon?
Claudius, 2nd cohorte
Claudius,
Go ahead.
Really, do it.
:-D
Bors.
Yes, all you Ladies and Legionnaires, Centurions and Cataphracts, scoundrels and Sarmatians, Brits and Bretons, Romans and Redheads – this was the first edition of 'ASK BORS', the column to watch out for!
Now, in order to return next week, we need YOU to write to Bors! Ask 'im anything. Nuthin's too big, and nuthin's too small. Uncle Bors dispenses 'is wisdom without hassle. He knows there's no problem in this world that can't be solved. If nothin' else, then by puttin' it on an ice floe an' hittin' it with a hammer.
In the meantime, Bors wishes all o' you a good week. May your beer not go stale an' your wall-duty be without rain-showers.
Ta,
Bors.
The call has gone out.
Do not write reviews. Write to Bors!