Agony Aunts: Speed Round

Image description: newspaper clippings with the words ‘agony aunt’ written in block letters. 

For many, 8th week is a period where work slows down and they can piss away their time going on Wikipedia deep-dives about the supercontinent Pangea, or in non-pandemic days, getting thoroughly shit-faced at every beer garden situated within the OX postcode. Alas, there is no such rest for the Agony Aunts. Before we hang up our thinking caps and ring in the end of HT21 with everyone else, we still have to deal with the leftover problems in our inbox. To tackle this as best we can, we’re running through them all in a frantic, possibly-drunken, speed-round edition of Agony Aunt that will no doubt make the quality of advice even worse than usual. Don’t say we didn’t warn you. 

I am VERY leftwing. Insufferably leftwing. However. I hate everyone else who is even a tiny bit leftwing. After two pints I can’t stop myself from calling them soyboy beta cucks. How do I stop myself from making all my lefty friends hate me? – A History Finalist

S: Well, you could start by just not doing that. If you can’t tame the urge, maybe spend time with more Christ Church students. I’ve heard they love that kind of banter and will gladly join along. Maybe all that self-effacement will fix you right up and you’ll learn to embrace the soyboy beta cucks in your life. Soyboy beta cucks deserve love too. 

I sent a photo of my homemade cannoli, which I spent an entire day of lockdown making, (no less!) to my Tinder match, who was very rude about their appearance! It has really struck a nerve, as I was very proud of them! We have been talking for ages, but I don’t know if I have it in me to forgive…should I rise above? Sincerely, offended pâtissier

E: No, you should not rise above. This is the exact sort of petty argument you ought to be taking to your grave. Besides, all that is left for the culinarily ambitious during lockdown is large-scale baking projects. Be rageful, young patissier, and hone your skills, awaiting the day where you will be able to gloat in this near-stranger’s face about the time you almost made it to the preliminary auditions for The Great British Bake Off (i.e. submitted an application and got rejected). Bon courage

Dear agony aunts, I’ve been vibing at home for so long I’ve learnt 3 languages, got 3 michelin stars, fixed my parents’ marriage and started my own podcast – I’m all out of ideas, what should I do next? – Anonymous

S: Something tells me you’re making fun of all of us bed dwellers right now and for that you will be reprimanded. I encourage you to try taking a dip in the River Thames when it’s especially cold and muggy out. If you come out with leeches, name them and keep them as pets on your skin until you feel ill enough to be bed ridden like the rest of us.

Dear Aunts, I have such an enormous crush on Timothée Chalamet that quite frankly all other human men have now been ruined for me. How do I get over this obsession? – Anonymous 

E: This problem can be solved with two words that I think the world’s populace should always keep in mind during periods of infatuation: everyone shits. We all have to spend long groaning hours on the toilet at some point. Just thinking about this horrible image instantly shatters the romantic illusion of celebrity crushes, and indeed crushes of all kinds. Yeah, it’s gross, but is it good advice? Also yes. You asked for it. 

i’m pregnant – Anonymous

S: Okay. Thanks for trusting the aunts. I won’t tell your parents, if you make me godmother. 

My flatmate and I keep getting into angry debates about the merits of Tesco versus Aldi. My friend insists that Aldi is better because it’s cheaper, but I staunchly believe that the discounts offered by the Clubcard and the convenience of the Oxford branch’s location mean Tesco is superior . This issue has become such a point of contention that our relationship is genuinely deteriorating as a result – what should I do? – 2nd year Geography

E: Aldi has The Middle Aisle, and I think that fact alone destroys your entire argument. However, if you’d rather die with your Clubcard pinned to your chest than bury the hatchet for the sake of friendship, I’m not one to judge. Or, you could compromise: agree to leave differences aside and go to Sainsbury’s together, a supermarket that as far as I’m aware provokes absolutely no strong brand loyalty and is probably a better representative for bland centrism than anything Nick Clegg has ever done. The Lib Dem revival starts now!

How does one tinder? AKA: how do I improve the male species as a whole? – Anonymous 1st year

S: Only swipe right on men who picture their pets. Ask to visit. Lead pet into man’s bedroom and just when man thinks he’s gotten lucky, lock the door and cuddle with pet. Through the door, ask for an apology. When he asks why, reply “For everything.” If we can get every male to do this, we win. 

On that note, it has been a pleasure answering your queries this term, and we hope our legacy of absurd themes and (slightly) patronising attempts at actual advice will endure for columns to come. Remember that the solution to all of your worries is a deep breath and a Google form away. And, if all else fails, there’s always next term’s agony aunts. Or pets.

Yours in agony,

Elsie & Sonia 

Art by Iona Shen