Trust Me, I’m Dr. Ozzy

their farts in a jar and sniff them if they felt unwell. Have you ever attempted to do this? How would one go about storing an outbreak of gas in an enclosed space?

Ellen, Beijing

It always blows my mind, the things people used to do to themselves before modern medicine. Could you imagine, sitting on the sofa with a cup of tea and the newspaper, going, “Darling, pass the jam jar, I’ve got a bit of a headache.” Then again, if you didn’t have aspirin, what were you supposed to do? And no, I’ve never tried this myself—I might be crazy, but I ain’t that crazy. When an ill wind blows in my house, I’m more worried about opening the windows before Sharon gets home than trying to save it for later.

Flies & Other Insects (Swallowed)

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

I recently swallowed a fly while horse riding. Now I’m in a panic: will give me an awful disease?

Nicola, East Finchley, London

I know how you feel: I was riding a motorcycle once with the visor up, and a bumblebee went down my throat. Not that it felt like a bumblebee, mind you—at the speed I was going, I thought I’d swallowed a fucking pigeon. People think that eating a bat is bad, but, believe me, inhaling a bee at 70mph is worse. The next day my epiglottis swelled up to three times it’s normal size and I had to get an injection. Now, that wouldn’t happen with a fly. But the big problem with a fly is, you know it hasn’t being doing anything pleasant lately: it certainly ain’t been down the local spa, drinking honeysuckle tea. Flies eat turdburgers and bathe in their own throw-up. But don’t freak out too much. Remember, cats eat flies all the time, and it never seems to do them any harm. So give it a few days, and if you feel okay, you’ve probably got the all-clear.

G.

Germs (Public Loos)

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

What’s the point in washing your hands in a public loo if you have to open the door on the way out using a handle that’s been touched by hundreds or thousands of other people who didn’t wash their hands? I’ve tried getting around the problem by pulling my sleeve over my hand when I touch the door, but that’s disgusting, too.

Chris, Newcastle

At last—I’ve found someone else who gets as freaked out about this as I do. I can’t fucking stand it: there you are, scrubbing your hands at the sink, but then to get out of the bog you have to grab a handle that the guy in front of you who didn’t bother to scrub up has already used. I mean, let’s face it, the average door knob in a public toilet has seen more dick than a Turkish knocking shop. Like you, I’ve also tried using my sleeve—but all you’re doing is putting the germs somewhere else. I get so wound-up about it, I’ve been known to rip the entire roll of paper towel off the wall and use that. But the point is, you shouldn’t have to— they should make the doors in public toilets swing OUT, so you can open them with your foot. It ain’t fucking rocket science. That way, you go in there, wash your hands, do your business, wash your hands again, then you’re on your way, germ-free. If I were Prime Minister, this would be my first law.

Dear Dr. Ozzy,

Regarding unhygienic door handles: I’ve come up with a design (patent pending) for a new kind of germ-free knob—when squeezed, it releases a dab of antiseptic liquid into your palm. Might this solve the problem?[4]

Tranquility, Oxford

As long as I didn’t end up with a hand like a snail’s arse for the rest of the day, then yes. (Maybe the antiseptic stuff could be a spirit, so it evaporates?)

DR. OZZY’S SURGERY NOTICEBOARD

The Trouble with Dirty Knobs

¦ Judging by the number of e-mails I keep getting about germ-covered door handles, I obviously ain’t the only one who has a serious bee up my arse on this issue. James in Aberdeen says the solution is “mind-numbingly obvious: automatic doors. They should be law.” (I 1,000 per cent agree). Meanwhile, Mike in Glasgow says doors aren’t even necessary: “You just need an L-shaped entrance, so passing perverts can’t peek.” Pete in Merseyside has more practical advice—“Always use your pinkie to open lav doors: you’re unlikely to ever put your smallest finger in your mouth.” (Unless your name happens to be Dr. Evil, Pete). Alternatively, Marion from Aberystwyth says the trick is to “grab a few sheets of toilet roll to protect your hands when opening the door, then dispose of them when you’re done.” She also suggests: “Disposable gloves should be provided in vending machines as you enter the bathroom.” Special thanks go to Gill in Cornwall, who did a Miss Marple and counted every single bloke who entered and exited the public bog at Cartgate picnic area in Somerset, England, over the course of the weekend, then e- mailed me the results (it was a long e-mail). “Judging by the length of time they took inside, none of them washed and dried their hands—because using the apparatus to do that takes about five minutes!” she concluded. This is the reason why people like me, who actually use the sink, get so pissed off: what’s the point of washing and drying if you’ve then got to touch something that’s got the germs of a thousand dicks on it? Finally, John from Bristol got in touch to argue (as I’ve also done) that building regulations need to be re-written, making it law that public toilet doors are hung the other way around. That way, our feet can do all the dirty work. David Cameron, are you listening…

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

What do you make of this craze for using hand-sanitizers obsessively throughout the day? I mention it because I had to shake someone’s hand at the beginning of a business meeting recently and they hadn’t got rid of all the lotion, so I was left with a sticky palm. I found the whole thing quite offensive, to be honest with you.

Eamon, Limerick, Ireland

Funnily enough, a similar thing happened to me the other day with Joan Collins in the lift of my apartment building in Los Angeles. I went to shake her hand, and she said, “Oh no, Ozzy, I can’t get sick.” Mind you, I can understand the worry: I’m a singer, so if I get a cold on the road, shows can get cancelled and livelihoods are at stake. That’s why I use cleanser myself every so often when I’m doing promo. Having said that, I’ve never given anyone a slimer, and if anyone gave one to me, they wouldn’t forget about it in a hurry. I mean, how did you even know it was lotion on the guy’s hand? For all you know he might have just knocked one out under his desk. Personally, I would have said to him, “What’s the f***’s this?”—then wiped it off on his tie.

Gilberts (Proper Disposal Of)

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

When I clear my throat, is it ever okay to spit? I hate swallowing, even though I know it’s harmless.