People quite often come to me for advice which is flattering.
They see me for the wise person that I am, with all those years of experience behind me.
Bertie used to phone me on a regular basis, but I didn’t like the bollix so I used to give him advice that would guarantee that he would end up in a tribunal sooner or later.
He must have given my number to Biffo, because the latter phoned me the other night.
He was a little hot under the collar about the painting business and asked me what I thought he should do.
I told him that there were two courses of action open to him. I said that the best thing would be to have a laugh and then forget about it. He asked what the other course would be, and I said that the worst thing he could do would be to get RTE to retract the news and to set the Guardaí on the artist.
Of course the fucking idiot got my two answers mixed up, but that’s not my fault.
I have had quite a few people phone me in the past. I advised Saddam Hussein on the best hiding place. I advised the Americans on where to find him. Dubya never consulted me and look at the appalling mess he made of the world.
It has been suggested that I broaden my scope a little.
I’m sure there are some of you that have problems? Is there something preying on your mind that you can’t ask your partner/religious adviser/doctor/psychiatrist/STD specialist? Help is at hand.
Just Ask Grandad.
I have added a page to the site where you can write in the strictest of confidence. There is a link at the top menu of this site, though I have to do some further work on the page yet. No personal details will be publicised apart from your name and address. No information will be used against you, unless I am running short of cash.
I expect there will be thousands of replies, so I can’t promise to answer them all, but I’ll have a shot at some.
I have to go now.
God is pestering me on the Red Phone again.