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Greetings and all that bollocks.

Here is where you can address your questions to Dr. Clive Owen, surly therapist and author of Bugger Off, You Neurotic Wanker
Dear Dr. Clive,

нуу всё с натяжкой это у вас както

Signed,

onobelaq

Dear onobelaq,

No, I don't know what Amanda Palmer is thinking either.

Confusedly,

Dr. Clive

Sep. 15th, 2008

Bastards.

Bastards, the lot of you. Especially the women. Women are right bastards.




Dear Dr. Clive,

I've been thinking [the remainder has been censored for wankery]

Hopefully,

Stephenie

Dear Stephenie,

Swallow it.

Fondly,

Dr. Clive

Jun. 20th, 2008

Dear Dr. Clive,

Where'd you go?

Worried,

Concerned Fangirl



Dear Fangirl,

On holiday.

Fucking needy cow.

Not well-rested enough,

Dr. Clive



Got a question? Need some advice? Comment here. Do not use this entry's comments to ask a new question, you wanky tosser.

Response #28

Dear Dr. Clive,

How can I tell if those around me are lying? I'm starting to think my girlfriend, my auxiliary girlfriend, my emergency backup girlfriend and even you are not telling me all of the truth anymore (it was their "No, really, Porkers the Dog has gone to a better place, and that better place is Sedona" that made me suspicious; I mean, wouldn't Tempe be a better choice?).

Discombobulated,

Tertiary in Tucson



Dear Tert,

Everyone lies except me. I can't be arsed to lie and then make up cover stories to bolster the lying. So if you are dealing with someone who is not, in fact, me, he or she is a right fucking fibber and will steal all your money and ejaculate all over your prized possessions.

Actually, I'll do that too, but I'll be honest about having done it.

Candidly,

Dr. Clive



Got a question? Need some advice? Comment here. Do not use this entry's comments to ask a new question, you gullible sod.

Response #27

Dear Dr Clive,

This extraordinarily charming older man I seduced is now head-over-heels for a young blonde rich aristocratic violent asshole who's really just using him as a catspaw in a game of chicken with his old ugly rich aristocratic violent asshole dad. The way my friend carries on about Al's "slim gilt soul," I'm afraid he'll wind up in gaol. What do I do?

Beseechingly,

R Ross

PS You can really work a white suit, man.



Dear R,

Take photographs of Mr. Blonde Poof Aristo getting buggered by some brainless rent boy and deliver said photographs to Mr. Arsehole Aristo Sr. If you can, get photographs of Mr. Arsehole Aristo Sr.'s reaction and deliver them to your friend. Make LOLMarquess macros out of them and — Wait, I forgot you haven't got the Internet yet. So fuck that bit.

Advise your friend to stay well shut of this ponce, he's toxic and a rubbish poet to boot. 'Slim gilt soul' my hairy arse.

Cordially,

Dr. Clive

PS: Obviously.



Got a question? Need some advice? Comment here. Do not use this entry's comments to ask a new question, you whinging prat.

Response #26

Dear Dr. Clive,

My three friends and I recently went on a canoeing trip in the South; en route, we had an unfortunate altercation with some locals. For future reference, is there any successful medical treatment for an arrow to the throat/upper chest area?

-L.



Dear L.,

Yes. Don't fucking well get yourself shot with an arrow in the throat/upper chest area.

Tosser.

Clinically,

Dr. Clive



Got a question? Need some advice? Comment here. Do not use this entry's comments to ask a new question or I will indeed make you squeal like a pig.

Fucking hell. Literally.

Who left the fucking oven on?

8:14pm here and still 82 bloody degrees. Piss it. I'm fucking off to the pub for the rest of the night. I'll get to your naff little questions tomorrow. If you're lucky.

Response #25

Dear Dr. Clive,

I've just been assigned by a Major Magazine to go to Las Vegas and write about an off-road motorcycle race. This fat Samoan guy, at least I think he's Samoan, wants to tag along. But I've started having Visions of the Apocalypse, and I've seen the American Dream drop her Panties like a $10 whore. Should I go to Vegas or just stay home?

- Dr. Gonzo



Dear Gonzo,

Nah. Stay home, take lots of drugs, make the whole thing up, and sell it to gullible millions as a savage journey to the heart of the American dream.

Fondly,

Dr. Clive



Got a question? Need some advice? Comment here. Do not use this entry's comments to ask a new question, you pigfucker.