There’s always that one person you go to for advice. A friend, a sister, a team-mate, that homeless man who lives under Putney Bridge. There’s always someone.
Sometimes that someone is me. I’d like to think that I can be counted on to give good advice. And sometimes, evidently, my friends think the same. Granted, I may be a “say what I think” kind of agony aunt rather than a “it’ll all be ok in the end” one, but I think there’s probably room for all sorts in the agony aunt world.
For me, that “one person” is actually about 4 people. There’s Model of a Modern Major General, of course. Fursty Ferret, naturally. Sometimes Grace Kelly. Mostly, thought, it’s Bad Influence.
Bad Influence. This is the woman who gets me into more scrapes than I care to think about.
Flashes of our times together – men hiding in cupboards, stripping in order to sell more beer at the pub we both worked at, licking men’s stomachs on her behest, drinking a pint of beer through a straw, trying to get up from a table and somersaulting onto the floor instead, a table full of mini shot bottles (and attempting to get those shot bottles into the nearby club), drunken shopping for cushions with dogs on them, Easter Sunday spent in bed drinking wine, eating cheese and watching House.
But, for all her madness and madcap tomfoolery, the woman is a goddess when it comes to giving advice. It doesn’t matter what the problem, how strange, mundane, dirty, embarrassing, simple or complicated. She gets to the root of the problem and makes it all make sense again.
In a fit of magnanimity (she must have been drunk), Bad Influence decided to open up her wisdom to the world. She wants to help you with your problems. No matter what, when, or where, she’ll come up with a solution.
You can contact her at dearbadinfluence@gmail.com – all emails will be treated in the greatest confidence, of course.
Updates once a month or so.
Go.
