Welcome to Cheeky Slapheads Problem Page
Your favourite Internet Agony Chimp/Darren freak monster is now on-line to answer your anxieties, worries and concerns. Handled in the strictest of confidence and sensitivity, Cheeky will respond to any messages posted to the Guestbook labelled RE: Cheeky, and replies posted here on the internet for everyone to enjoy. Cheeky can also be hired out for a nominal £500 fee, as an after dinner guest speaker for all you social functions. Weddings, Christenings and Bahmitzvahs.

Cheeky 4 Russell Grant 4 ever
Dear Cheeky I'm 47 and very shy with girls, recently I noticed a rash around my doodah - but that's not the problem. The problem is that since joining the Beat*ones I've become addicted to Resolve. My habit is costing me a quid a month. Last week I put some in a girl's drink in the hope that it would make her feel sexy - but somehow she twigged and I got arrested. Please help this vile fizzy drug is ruining my life. PSW

Dear PSW
Yer avin a larf int yer. You're the one that's teetotal mate, not me, I dunno! some people. You think you've got problems, I'm the one that's got the body and sexual hangups of a chimp. tsch! and a drinking problem to boot. I suggest you try joining another 4 piece rock combo, one that isn't trying to cash in on the fab fours fame and fortune. And I'd just like to add that it was definately Stronks that knocked your milk bottles over not Nicholas. He's totally innocent.

Dear Cheeky. Please help, you're my last hope. I've got a big dildo stuck up my arse. I only put it there for a bit of a laugh and now I can't get it out. Please can you recommend a clinic that sorts this sort of problem discretley. If my mates find out I shall never live it down. Keith E

Dear Keith E
What the hell do you think I am, an Arse doctor? I'm a head shrink, not a sphinctermeister. You could always try the Five day non-stop heavy drinking binge. With the emphasis on Dark Ruby Ales. That should shift the bugger. The world should fall out of you bottom rather than the bottom falling out of you world. Arrr! PS: does it feel real nice, feeling FULL all the time? Did you accidently fall onto it whilst in the shower. An all to common household accident.

Dear Cheeky, can you help me you baboon. I just CANNOT talk to girls. It's not that I don't like them, I do. I just find it difficult to approach them - what is your advice?

Dear Mr Bottmoan
I'm damned if I know, women are an alien race as far as I'm concerned, and the universal translators bust. And don't call me a baboon. I am also led to believe that they have different "Parts" if you know what I mean. This frankly terrifies me and I would urge you to steer clear of this unknown quantity. Does there appear to be a problem gentlemen. I am Ellen of Borg, Prepare to be assimilated, resistance is futile.

Dear Mr C Slaphead, I keep attracting buxom young females that delight in enslaving me and using me as there sexual plaything. This may sound fun but I tell you its not. As I am a wearer of glasses i have a rather delicate disposition and prefer to make love in the old fashioned way. These big breasted maniacs just don't understand my needs. Apart from celibacy I see homosexuality as the only other way out. What should I do oh knowledgeable one?

Dear Cupples: That's a tricky one. Living under the intimidation of a huge bosom is no laughing matter I can tell you. You have my sympathies. Do you have any photo's to back up you claim by any chance (preferably nude). I see uphill gardening as your only avenue of escape frankly. That or contact lenses. If you lie back and think of David Seaman, your glasses should soon steam up, and thus sparing you the horror of smothering. Hope this helps. C

Cheeky, as you're aware I've always had problems downstairs but recently it just seems to have got worse. The bleeding is incessant and Frank at work seems to think that Bailey knows - and I don't need to tell you what that means. Anyway, I'm still going round Bagnal's tonight as he's far more gentle than he who must be obeyed. Any advice would be greatly appreicated.

Dear Ronald, I mean Derek: As I've already explained I'm not an Arse Quack. Have you been showing off again, eating broken glass in that fetish club. I've warned you about that before. Maybe the razor you had shoved up your urethra has come loose and worked it's way into your lower intestines. Either way go private. The nurses give better relief. PS try not to faint in the toilets again.

Dear Funny Monkey. I got so frustrated at my inability to pull women so I turned queer. However, I'm such an ugly bastard that I can't pull blokes either. My question is - Can humans mate with animals and if so how much does it cost? KJE

Dear KJE, It's the most natural thing in the world, after all my father was a successful London PR executive and my mother a chimpanzee pyjama case. As for the matter of cost, it depends. You could have a very reasonable night out at the local Dog Pound or go up market and make it with some of the rarer breeds at London Zoo. Best done in the early hours of the morning as the howler monkeys won't be awake by then. Yours C. Slaphead.

I am suffering from morbid obiestity. I've had it for years but can't shake it off, I just like food. Get it down your neck, that's what I say. Anyway, people at work are starting to point and talk and I'm not as young as I used to be. What can i do, i don't want to give up the grub but could do with losing a few stone. Have you got a view on liposuction Cheeky? Nick W

Dear Dad! Is that you John? I thought so. What's morbid obesity, Sleeping with dead fat people? I would have thought that would put anyone off their chips. Just chips. If you want to loose a few stone, get some landscape gardeners to take a look at your rockery. Mmmmm Cellulite, chunky asses, big muck spreader round back, thumb up bum, all business. Nice

Dear Cheeky. I followed you home last night and watched you undress. Later I stole your underwear from the clothes line. Is this normal?

Dear Stalker: Following me home, or stealing my underwear? As Peter would say, Normal is as normal does! Life is like a box of chocolates, and it looks like someone has pinched your selection guide. You f**kin wacko. Trolleys aren't that cheap any more you know. You could try wearing them inside out if they offend you. Cheeky

I used to live with this bloke, charge him rent, drink with his friends, smell his clothes - you know the score. Anyway he's gone and I'm so alone without my soul mate. I now drink in Derby and discuss philosophy with a bunch of ape's (no offence). How can I get him back?

Dear Mr P: I pity the fool that don't drink in Derby. The only way I can think of is to make him feel so insecure at home on his own, that he'll come running back into your arms. Start of by making anonimous threats on the phone, and follow it up with things through the letterbox... the usual stuff - dead rats, excrement, naan bread, free sachets of shampoo. You could always cut the brake cables on his girlfriends car...that's a nice touch. Here's to a happy new start. C.S.

Dear Cheeky, Last year I poisoned my sister's coffee and since then I've shared my bed with her mummified corpse. This has been great, but now I think I've met "Miss Right". Laura is 26, very attractive and has a brilliant sense of humour and I get on great with her. I've decided that I want to spend the rest of my life with her. However there is only one problem which is that I can never get her to drink the bloody coffee. Any ideas?

Dear Keith: Stop messing about and go back to Guy, you know how much he misses you. It's you he wants, offer him yourself. And anyway..Guy'll drink the bloody coffee, or was that herbal tea. Well anyway he'll smell your medicine.

I need to get this off me chest. I've read the comments from Bollox and find myself bewildered and confused. Yes, we did share a flat and yes there was a chemistry between us - but never did he make his true emotions clear. I feel like an idiot. If only I'd picked up the vibes I wouldn't be in this mess now. I just cannot face his Derby friends and there cruelty. He treats me like a slut when he's with them and has had a few. He knows I'm a bedroom man and not a public toilet bendover merchant.

Dear Sleepless in Coleshill: It only takes one of you to pick up the phone, but as you're both to tight to cough up 10p for a local call, it seems like destiny is conspiring to keep you apart. Hold on, my Indian spirit guide "Little Big Mouth" is talking to me again. He say "Keith him go Silver Slipper", "Him meet many fine Gentlemen of night", "Him have no need 'Guy no hot running water'! AAH SO!...SORTED.

It seems that again I am the brunt of humour - how can I stop this? I've tried following in the footsteps of the smoe of the greats....Norris, Eastwood, Bronson...but still am persecuted. Doesn't a pair of glasses and a smile cut it these days? Bloody arabs and their hareems...imagine me, Di, Stronks and Vicky.....

Cheeky says:- I'm trying to imagine... I really am. No, hold on... wait... something's coming... yes I can see it now. Oooaahhhaarrarar! Ooh lovely. That's sorted me oggens for the next week or so. Rather than follow TV hard men, try taking example from the likes of Stan Laural, Mel Brookes and Norman Wisdon. Laugh 'em into bed...that's what I say. Failing that just show 'em your dick.

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