My windows are big, and birds keep flying into them. I love the view and I don’t want to put sheers over it.

Maybe you have a nice view and understand why, with such gorgeous scenery, I had to make sure I can see it, even when I’m facing away from the window. We have this lovely great mirror on the inner wall, so we have two views in one. What would you suggest, about the pesky birds? 

Yours truly,

Mirror Image

Dear Mirror:

Yes. You are a true inhabitant of Planet Stupid. Have you ever tried a bird’s eye view of your lovely picture window, with your inner mirror that cons that poor bird into believing that the same geography as he’s flying in, exists on the far side of the invisible window glass? If you were a bird, wouldn’t you try flying through your lovely window to get to the lovely country reflected in your lovely great mirror? Really!!!!!!!!!!

Dear Gabby:

I am elderly and I am one of those old farts that just wants to live out the rest of my days peacefully without anyone fussing over me or making my decisions for me or otherwise minding my business instead of their own.

What would you suggest? 

Sincerely,

Old Coot and Proud Of It.

Dear Coot:

In old Iceland, the tradition was that when others began to mind your business and you weren’t strong enough to fend them off any more, you waited until a really, really cold winter’s night, and silently walked (or crawled, depending on your physical state) off into the blizzard. They say that once you get over shivering, it’s quite a peaceful way to get rid of the neighbours.

However, unfortunately, it takes serious planning or lack of it to die of hypothermia in this climate. So unless you are rich enough to make people let you live your own life without interference, even until you draw your last breath (you know, by paying lawyers and stuff to make sure they do what you want until you’re gone) you’re kind of stuck with the occasionally dim-witted ministrations of neighbours and family.

So all I can offer you is the inner joys of wishing all the do-gooders unto Hell.

Relax, and think of it as your last gift to humanity – they get to feel ever so wonderful and warm about their kindness to you, and you get to go to Heaven because you have already endured a fate worse than death – receiving charity.

Or you could organise an Elder’s Co-op, with the purpose of protecting one another against the kindness of strangers.

Dear Gabby:

I love your mind. Will you marry me?

All my love,

Admirer

Dear Admirer: 

Careful, sweetie, for all you know I could be the Black Widow of the Net. 

For obvious reasons The Flying Shingle tries never to disagree with our Dear Gabby, but unfortunately sometimes we do.