No. 1276: The winners

Jaspistos reports: Competitors were asked for useless advice to recently reformed alcholics from a magazine 'psychiatrist' about how to fill with harmless activity a rainy Sunday spent indoors.

I spent a pleasant Sunday afternoon with a bottle and your entries, amusing myself by trying to guess which category each con- tributor belonged to — teetotaller from the start, moderate drinker, alcoholic, reform- ed alcoholic, or spouse of reformed alcoholic. It would have been a mistake to try to deduce anything from the quality of the typing, but I thought I detected the ring of genuine painful experience in several pieces. Several of you recommended 'raindrop-racing', an old childhood pastime of mine, drunk or sober; others proposed various therapeutic games and crafts with bottle-tops. Charles Mosley's headshrinker, coping with his rain-besieged correspondent's 'Noah syndrome', advised: 'It can be beneficial to simulate the original "ark" situation. Buy up the entire stock of your local pet shop and gather them round you in your "den". Breathe deeply.'

The winners receive £10 each, and the bonus bottle of Pimm's No. I goes to Richard Parlour (bad luck, Nell L. Wregi- ble, who worked the same ingenious idea almost as well). May his Sunday afternoons be sunny.

Dear Brian, on top of everything else you say you've just been given the sack, and it's as if someone had walloped you a punch on the jaw: your hopes are all scotched, your career's on the rocks, you're in hock up to your unfortunate eyebrows. But it's no use being bitter. Life is a rum affair, and if you start worrying about it

think this is what they call a companion volume.' youll only make yourself groggy. So don't mull over what's past: it's absolutely pointless whin- ing about it. Try to be stout-hearted. In short, be sure to keep your spirits up, and then, I hope most cordially, you'll be restored to health in no time. But don't even let yourself think about you-know-what!

(Richard Parlour) Now is the time for 'dead men' to come to your aid. All those empty bottles which litter your home can be put to good use in constructing a musical instrument. No skill is needed. Here's how you make an 'aquaphone': Hang up a dozen bottles on a broomstick plac- ed horizontally between two pieces of furniture of equal height (wardrobes, chests-of-drawers, etc). Into each bottle pour varying quantities of water. When struck with a wooden corkscrew, the bottles will produce very pleasant sounds the more water you put in, the lower the note. To add to the therapy, try singing 'I've said goodbye to booze' to the tune of 'God Save the Queen'.

Forget Handel — make your own Water Music!

(Roger Woddis) Six ways to make Sunday Funday for the Man Who Was Thirsty: 1. Telephone all your acquaintances to let them know that you still live at the same address.

2. Sew leather patches on your old pyjama jackets.

3. Go through old photograph albums and count the number of people you fail to recognise.

4. Try filling a kettle without using your hands.

5. Clean the insides of the kitchen and bathroom taps.

6. Arrange your bills neatly in reverse order of urgency of payment.

7. Dial TIM and see how long it takes before you catch the voice beginning at the beginning of the announcement.

(Stuart Crain) With the new enthusiasm for all things Victorian, fern-pressing is coming into its own again. For this you need at least two stout Bibles and, of course, a fern. But never fear, an aspidistra or even a cabbage will do at a pinch. The most suc- cessful fernouette I ever witnessed was a red cab- bage! Wipe clean with a dry cloth, lay on a sheet of mulberry or hand-made paper, place between sheets of brown paper inside a Bible and sit on it (personally or by proxy through a spouse) in the even-kneed posture assumed by judges in the Egyptian Book of the Dead. Never be tempted to view prematurely. With practice you will be able to attempt multi-compositions. The framed results are hypnotising, and you will soon be the centre of a neighbourhood, even county, fer- nouette circle!

(George Moor) Sad Sabbatarian, of Hounslow, asks what he can do on a wet Sunday and my advice to you, Sad Sabb, is to be positive and think positive.

Consider; just by getting to Sunday you have already triumphed over Saturday, a most dangerous day, and you are more than half way through the weekend.

So, firstly, stay late in bed with the papers and rejoice in the fact that you have no hangover. Enjoy not having to get up, and dress, and turn out for opening time. Think of all the poor fellows who have to struggle through the rain to a pub or club. Think how lucky you are.

Apply the same principles to the rest of the day and you will be surprised how soon Monday ' comes.

(John Sweetman)