Colonel Qadaffi's problem page

Colonel Qadaffi's problem page

Hi! I'm Colonel Mu'ammar Qadaffi, leader of the Libyan Revolution, and it has come to my attention that my years of experience running a nation and putting those accursed Yankee infidels (now our excellent friends of course) to the sword can now be focussed for the good of humanity.

Instead of having my masked minions shooting innocent police women out of Embassy windows, I thought it time to pay back my nation's debt to humanity in the best and only way I can. 1. By employing an all-girl bodyguard corps and 2. Answering your questions on matter of the heart. I'm a listening dictator. Tell me your troubles.

"Dear Colonel Qadaffi,

I've been a happily married housewife for twenty-seven years, but recently my husband Maurice has developed an unhealthy interest in the Salvation Army.

I wouldn't mind so much, but as a life-long accountant at Thornaby's on the High Street, he's not even religious; but these days he hardly ever misses an episode of Songs of Praise in the hope of some red-hot Sally Ann action. Recently I discovered a pile of War Cry magazines in his sock draw with many of the pages stuck together, and I suspect he might be taking illicit trumpet lessons behind my back.

Yesterday, I saw on old Salvation Army uniform in a second hand shop, and I seriously considered buying it in an attempt to spice up our frankly non-existent sex life with the aid of a ten-inch strap-on collecting tin. Help me Uncle Mu'ammar, how have I sunk this low?

Yours desperately

Mrs Brenda Rubbish

My dear Brenda,

Fear not! Your husband will soon get over his yearning for this infidel organisation once he realises that only true salvation from his life of wanton Yankee debauchery lies with the Women's Institute. Perhaps you might try to turn him in this direction with demonstrations of jam making, and perhaps posing naked for a calendar (but do, please copy any photographs to me for my ...err... research purposes).

If this should fail, you may wish to resort to planting a bomb in a German discotheque to attract attention to and punish his Zionist Imperialist ways by smiting a few infidels, or you may consider my last resort for times when diplomacy turns sour and fart in his face.

Love, Uncle Mu'ammar


Dear Colonel Qadaffi,

Is it true you've banned cartoons from Libyan TV?

Regards,

Greg Flanges

Dear Greg,

This is clearly a lie spread by the Western Capitalist-Zionist-Imperialist Military-Industrial Complex as a slight against the Great Socialist Libyan Arab Jamahiriya.

Of course it is untrue. I have personally supervised the broadcast of THREE HOURS of my favourite TV animation each and every day to the glorious Libyan masses. Qadaffi Duck.

Best, Uncle Mu'ammar


And a vote-o, too

After yesterday's F5-tastic race to the million mark (and why stop now when the two million mark's just four years away?), we're keeping the pressure up with another Thursday voye-o. Because it's Thursday, and there's a vote-o to be had.

Choose, then, from the following Tales of Mirth and Woe, as they might appear in the Daily Express

* Take a Break: "Revealed: The sordid hidden messages in Balamory"
* Venice: "Romanian Migrants to replace Royal Family by 2010"
* Still Ill: "Blair's plan to slice up Princess Diana and serve her at No. 10 barbecue"
* The Drugs Do Work: "It's true - everything gives you cancer"
* A Terrible Cult: "AAAAAARGH! We're doomed! AAAAAAAAAAARGH!"

I slaughtered an Ox earlier tonight, and the entrails say that you must vote for "Venice", or woe will rend this proud nation asunder. And the entrails never lie. Vote, or if you must, ask Colonel Qadaffi a question. He will - Amazonian Guard training sessions notwithstanding - reply to the best next week.