Agony Uncles

Q: Should I tell someone at uni that I like them before the holidays?

Jack: Of course. You should definitely do this. I have never heard a better idea in my life ever. Do this now! It won’t be weird or awkward. The only thing that might be a stumbling block between them being ignorant of your love and a wonderful relationship is how you tell them. I would go with the biggest, brashest and brightest declaration of your undying love. Maybe hire a plane to etch your love in sky writing. Possibly serenade them with a band. Or maybe even just go into one of their lectures and interrupt matters by screeching your love for them as loudly as possible. They don’t even have to be in the lecture. News of it will reach them soon enough, don’t you worry. Or, maybe, it could just be tremendously awkward and you should possibly leave it to mull over for three months. Up to you really.

Nicholas: Summer loving is like a box of chocolates: prolonged sunshine means it melts into a horrendous, congealed mess that no one can enjoy. Extended imagery aside, I’m not entirely sure you’ve thought this one through. Unless you live under a rock or you’re a politics student you’ve probably got friends this summer or, if you’re really adventurous, you might even be going for a jolly good knees-up abroad. Shouldn’t you be screaming “YOLO” at strangers whilst drinking out of a shoe instead of worrying about the boyfriend at home? When you and your “bst gurrllies head off 2 MALIGA 2K12” shouldn’t you just enjoy yourself? And when you look back at photos, wouldn’t you rather label the men in them as “snake-hips” and “behind the bins at the hotel” then think of the fun you could have had?

Q: I am going on holiday with a housemate that I hate. What should I do?

Jack: Why not use this holiday as an opportunity? Not an opportunity to wipe the slate clean and rekindle your lost friendship, but as a chance to fully realise your hatred and exact suitable revenge. Tell him the wrong flight time. Bribe the airline to lose his suitcase. When he finally gets his suitcase back get really drunk and vomit in it. Lend him sun cream that is actually just particularly viscous milk and watch him literally burn. And then the night before your return journey phone border patrol and tell them he is an infamous drug smuggler and they should get the latex gloves and lubricants ready. Nothing confirms the death of a friendship like a violated housemate languishing in a foreign prison.

Nicholas: You’ve spent the year drinking and backswilling their milk, having to wear earphones to cover the comical sound of their singing and you’ve even have had an hour long shower once to irritate them. All of these for one good reason – because they are one terrible excuse for a human being. Now, I know the only reason you agree to go on holiday with your entire house is because of a large dose of Stockholme syndrome, but I’m not willing to let you suffer in silence. Let them know that even though you’re in another country, hate knows no boundaries. Put a towel on every single deck chair. If they ever fall asleep whilst dosing in the sun, spray them with lemon juice and watch the insects swing by. And if you really want to enjoy your holiday, empty their suitcase into the pool on opening night screaming “WHEN IN ROME, RUIN YOUR FRIENDSHIP”. You might well be a sociopath, but you’ll be a tanned sociopath.

Q: How do you cope with the awkwardness of going home for the summer?

Jack: I don’t as I never go home for the summer. This is a rookie error that only morons and idiots make. Never return to the scene of the crime. Instead I spend July on the French Rivera, August on safari in Kenya and my September is mainly centred on living the high life in some world class city. Or instead, just doing what I did last summer – working in York and living in a half-empty house. But if you really must return to your hometown the only real way to cope is gin. Gin in all its wonderful juniper-flavoured forms. A sneaky gin and tonic at 11.30am. A refreshing dry martini with lunch. A decadent Long Island Ice Tea for afternoon tea. Have it with Dubonet for dinner. And maybe a simple shot of the stuff as a bedtime snack. Sorted.

Nicholas: Summer brings many things: most of them venereal diseases and sunburn, but occasionally you even have to go home back to civilised society. Now the awkwardness you feel about having to see your siblings or see the kind people who had a quickie to conceive you shouldn’t be limited to you. I propose a personality transplant; not in the same way Britney Spears went psycho on us, but something strange enough to ruffle feathers. Whilst I can’t recommend taking up drugs and getting a Japanese girlfriend ala John Lennon, try your best to be the exact opposite of what you were before. Used to love your parents? Convince your mum she’s having memory problems by putting her handbag in the freezer and moving her car onto a different part of the street each night. With any luck your parents might just give you enough to live in York this summer. You’re welcome.