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Dear Aunty Raine,

I recently had a good win on a lottery scratch card. £100,000 in fact. I couldn’t wait for my husband to get in from work so I could tell him about it.

But, much to my horror, instead of paying off the balance of our mortgage and perhaps buying a holiday caravan for us in Cornwall, he went straight out the following day and bought an expensive sports car, blowing the whole lot on it!

He told me that I ought to be happy as he had haggled and actually got something knocked off the price.

This car has also sent him into some kind of mid life crisis. He is 56 and has had his hair braided with beads, has bought some leather trousers, which make a hideous whoopee cushion noise whenever he sits down and he is telling everyone to call him ‘RB’ instead of his proper name Reg Biggleswade.

I’ve asked him to sell the car but he said ‘No can do Baby’

What am I going to do?

We could have retired early with the mortgage paid off. I am so upset.

Yours, still bastard broke, Anita, Salford

Aunty Raine says:

Dear bastard Anita,

I’m sorry but why the eff did you tell him about the win at all?

I wouldn’t have!

Get yourself off to the doctors, tell him you’re stressed, get some tranquilizers, knock your husband out for the weekend and flog the car behind his back.

Then pay the mortgage off and get your breasts orgmunt………ourgourmet…………..origamited………………..lifted.

The boob job will be a compensation to him for losing the car.

I tell my husband Vincent as little as possible. It’s what’s made our marriage such a success.

Hope that helps! Aunty Raine

Remember! A twat in a sports car is still just a twat!

 

 

 

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