Your Problems Solved, With Holly Harper

Dear Holly,
Until recently, my husband and I had a peaceful and happy existence in a quiet corner of upmarket suburbia, but ever since our new neighbours moved in we’ve had nothing but bother. We merely raised our eyebrows when we discovered they were cohabiting out of wedlock and that she was ‘with child’. But what sane individual would not start to have doubts upon noticing that they fail to use net curtains to hide the vulgar interior of their house, insist on cheapening the terrace with a satellite dish, and regularly shop in places like Asda when there is a perfectly good Marks and Spencer down the road. The final straw came when they threw a tacky birthday party for one of their brats, inviting a range of  obese, uncivilised and riotous children to create havoc in their back garden until at least 7pm on a Sunday evening. Midsomer Murders was ruined. How do I go about imprisoning these bastards  before my husband has a coronary?

Dear Miranda,
You sound suspiciously like many of the teachers at my school. For some bizarre reason, none of them seem to like people having a bit of fun now and again either. I think maybe when you train as a teacher, they do an operation to remove your sense of humour so that you’re better at doing arithmetic or something. What normal individual would not be amused by a small boy making farting noises with his armpit during silent reading, or not hazard a giggle when confronted by the sight of a bare bottom peaking out from the back of the school bus? Only teachers appear to react to these hilarious incidents with the same sour-faced expression as someone who’s just been diagnosed with leprosy. If you don’t want to spend the rest of your life as a miserable sod, I suggest you start trying to grow back your funny bone and stop punishing the rest of us for pinning a note to your back that says ‘fanny licker’ on it?
Hope that helps!