Agony Lad – Summer Special


I used to be an avid follower of this column, particularly for your advice on bedroom matters. But having read Fifty Shades of Grey, Christian Grey’s sexual exploits rather put yours in the shade. Please restore my faith in your sexual prowess!

Look, I’m a liberal guy. Of course I’ve tried mixing pleasure and pain in the boudoir. But trying to negotiate the world of nipple clamps, jiggle balls etc etc after a few beers is a bloody nightmare. Call me old-fashioned if you will; I maintain that bringing surgical equipment into foreplay still doesn’t make it acceptable for real lads. The only time you’ll find Agony Lad with a riding crop is for depraved Rugby Third’s initiations down at the Red Changing Room of Pain and Humiliation (left after Iffley).

I’m half way through 6 week internship and it’s rubbish; my supervisor  is a dick and everyone still refers to me as ‘work experience guy’; “hey work experience guy, pick up my pen” etc. How do I stand out in the office jungle?

At times like this, I like to think of an inspiration of mine, a proto-lad known only as ‘Maximus’. He came back from the wilderness to overthrow the evil emperor (a bit like your supervisor.) So put your foot down, and repeat after me; “I am Agony Lad – father to a reasonable 2:2 essay, husband to a fit third year geographer and I will have my full one-hour lunch break, in this life or the next!” If they continue to ignore you, follow with the phrase “Are you not entertained?” Alternately you can just shag the boss. We’ve all got to climb the greasy pole somehow!

I’m supposed to start at Oxford this autumn. To be honest, I was a bit of a lad at school and I think your geeky university is going to stifle my innate ladness. In fact, I should be the one writing this column! So what should I do to prepare myself for coming up?

Grow a pair of balls, for a start. You think we haven’t dealt with cocky freshers like you before? You’re nothing; not even the speck of shit on Agony Lad’s K-Swiss. Oxford is all about stepping up your game; drinking two litres of strongbow before heading off to your friend’s house party just isn’t going to cut it anymore. Try dominating the Park End cheese floor until 2 a.m (3 on a big night) after Agony Lad’s annual Cocktails and Chaucer night.  Make no mistake mister; Agony Lad is the big dog in this town.

I’ve just graduated. Can I still suckle at the teat of Agony Lad’s eternal wisdom?

Like a dog is not just for Christmas, Agony Lad’s advice is not just for three years of pimms-fuelled posho idiocy. You’re about to enter a whole new world of longing glances in the dole queue and barely-contained sexual tension by the photocopiers. However please remember this is a ‘lad’ column; I shall not be dealing with the following later-in-life issues; tracker mortgages, bigamy, or erectile dysfunction (excluding that from overuse). Have a great life!


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