Hey there Foster! How’s it hangin’?

I’ve been married back home, got divorced, and now I’m married here. You have to wonder what is wrong with me, eh? But I did it, so now I have to live with it.

Despite all this experience, I’m still puzzled by the things women do. For instance, why does my wife wash the clothes every single day? There’s only her and me. Where does she get all those clothes to wash? Does she wait until I’m out the door in the morning and then run up to the cupboard and try on all my clothes?

Then there’s the TV. I have one upstairs so she can watch her boring Thai soaps any time she likes, and the one downstairs hooked up to the satellite is for me to watch footie. But will she go up and watch her TV? No way. She’ll sit and sulk while I try to watch a game and then gleefully grab the remote when I can’t stand it any longer.

Have you ever tried going shopping with a woman? She’ll wander all over the bloody shop. She’ll pick something up, think about it for a while, put it back on the shelf, and then pick it up again before finally putting it in the shopping cart. What’s she thinking about? It’s just a bar of soap, or something. I just grab the cheapest one that smells good.

Then she will lock some doors in the house, even though there’s nothing worth stealing in them anyway. Can I find the damn keys? She hides them! Why does she do this?

And will she shut the screen door when she comes into the house? Even though she complains about the bloody mozzies all the time, it never seems to enter her head that they might find an easy entry through the door she has left open. Women! What do you think Foster?

Your old mate,

Union Hill

They’re hangin’ pretty well these days thanks mate, especially since me missus has washed me bloody underpants so much the elastic is useless.

Don’t think you’re the only bloke with these problems. There’s no accountin’ for what women will do. I daresay wives all over the world do these puzzlin’ things without ever thinkin’ about it. It’s what
women do, mate.

But I’d take firm action about the TV thing if I were you. It’s decidedly unfair that she usurps your place in front of the boob tube to watch a bunch of Thai boobies bobbin’ and sobbin’ all over the bloody screen. There’s
only one thing ter do. Move yer TV and the sofa upstairs and move her TV downstairs. Yer in her inner sanctum downstairs, although I bet that’s not the only inner sanctum you was in eh? Maybe yer should turn orf the TV and try a bit of
inner sanctum exploration, eh?

I’ll take bets on this though. After yer move upstairs, she’ll be up there sulkin’ until yer let ‘er watch the soaps up there instead. Who knows why?

My advice? When that happens, pull on yer best blue singlet, don yer cocky hat, hitch up yer stubby shorts, and head fer the pub. I’ll be the bloke sittin’ in front of the TV watchin’ the game. Yer can buy me a beer if yer like and
we can commiserate together.

Dear Mr Foster, am I paranoid? Please help me!

It all started when I came to Thailand. At first, I didn’t really notice that I was being watched all the time. When I go out at night and walk into a bar, all the girls are watching me. You don’t believe me? Get up and walk into another bar and play with another girl. The other girls will soon be whispering among themselves that you are a butterfly.

Or if I go shopping, I will get a call from my wife asking me what I am buying, even though I haven’t told her where I am! How does she do that?

I went onto one of those online video chat rooms one day, just to see what was happening. You might know it, ‘Camfrog’? (http://www.camfrog.com). I’m surfing away, looking at all the pretty girls on their videos, when all of a sudden I’m paged by my own wife asking what I am doing!

Since you are a married man now too, (best wishes to Mrs Foskin), have you ever felt you are being watched? Do you ever feel paranoid like I do?

Sincerely,

Casanundra

G’day there Casa. Nice ter hear from yer mate. But first, let me say that I think youse’re pullin’ me leg, since we all know youse are back in the UK now, so I dunno how yer can still be feeling paranoid. Worse, yer won’t let
any of yer good mates look after yer missus while youse are away. What a spoilsport!

Are yer a true paranoid? Yer know what one of them is, right? That’s the bloke who says, “I know I’m paranoid,” then ‘e looks around furtively and says, “but am I paranoid enough?”

But ter answer yer question, yeah, I have experienced the same thing meself a few times too. Just before I got married I was workin’ at home in me house in Nonthaburi. That’s a good 15 kilometers from Sukhumvit road, mind yer.

Anyway, I get a call on me mobile phone and me future wife is askin’ why I’m walkin’ around Robinson Sukhumvit with a shiela on me arm. I protested that I wasn’t, but she didn’t believe me. So I told ‘er ter hang
up and call me back on the landline.

Back comes the call and a very embarrassed fiancée is apologizing for doubtin’ me word. Well, I took advantage of this and made her promise not ter do anythin’ like it again. That worked. Maybe yer should try the same thing if yer get
the opportunity.

How does she know where youse are? Have yer checked yer mobile fer a possible bugging program? There is such a thing, yer know? It’s real easy ter install. Yer call a number, enter yer credit card number, and download a small piece of software
onto the phone. After that, yer can monitor calls, see where the phone is in the city, and all sorts of stuff. Very scary. But I don’t reckon your wife would be that sneaky, would she? Maybe she just has a lot of friend who see yer all
over the place. But then again, maybe….?

The big question is, what was yer wifey doin’ in one of them video chat rooms anyway? Her ID wouldn’t be ‘casachaser’ would it? I’m pretty sure I met someone like her online the other night.
Whooee! That black negligee was somethin’ else.

Stickman's thoughts:

If you don't like Miss Udon, there is always Foster!