Trust Me, I’m Dr. Ozzy

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

Is a marriage automatically dead if the two parties start using separate bedrooms? I ask because my wife has developed a snore loud enough to wake the mummies in Egypt, and I can’t sleep next to her without large and unwise doses of medication.

Viv, Hull

No, relax, your marriage ain’t over. I know quite a few people with very healthy relationships who sleep in different rooms, ’cos they don’t want to listen to a human chainsaw next to them when they’re trying to get some shut-eye. I mean, if you’re the first one to drop off, it ain’t a problem—and it’s easy to get offended when your other half starts complaining—but for the poor sod who’s still awake, it’s excruciating. Having said all that, you might want to look into some anti-snoring gizmos before taking the separate-bedroom option. If you get on the internet you can find all kinds of things, from mouthpieces to clothes pegs and special pillows. Why not give one of ’em a try?

T.

Transvestism

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

For years I’ve fantasised about what it would be like to be a woman—to the extent where I’ve started to shop for girls’ clothing and wear my wife’s underwear when she’s away on business. How can I explain this to her, or is that a terrible idea?

David, Watford

Okay, so you’ve got two choices, David: pluck up the courage to tell her now, or get caught later. It’s really that simple. As much as you think you can hide this forever, it’s obviously such a big part of who you are, I guarantee that one day you’ll have a couple of drinks, put a frock on, and the missus will come home early and hit the roof. That’s gonna be a much harder conversation than if you bring it up gently at your own pace. And—who knows?—your wife might not even care. I mean, here in Los Angeles, there’s a whole society for cross-dressers. They’re all builders and postmen and delivery boys or whatever. They get dressed up in their fishnets, go out clubbing, come home, then go back to work the next day in their overalls like nothing happened.

Tubs (Hot Ones)

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

My husband has bought a “hot tub” and put it in our back garden, but I refuse to get in it, because I’ve heard horror stories about the water becoming a breeding-ground for germs. He says I’m worrying too much, and spends half of the weekend in there. What’s your opinion?

Betty, Portsmouth

You’re both right. There’s nothing better than being outdoors in a hot tub on a crisp October evening, drinking a nice glass of something cold. At the same time, if you don’t maintain a hot tub properly, it can turn into a swamp, with algae and frogs and fuck-knows-what-else floating around in there. I mean, even though it’s shiny and blue, with pressure jets and mood lighting, a hot tub is still basically just a big boiling cauldron of chemicals. The worst is when you have a party and a bunch of hairy blokes climb in there, all burping and farting and blowing their noses. That grosses me out, that does. Another thing with hot tubs: you’ve gotta watch the heat. I used to get blasted on cocaine, feel my heart begin to pound, then try to calm down by jumping into 900-degree water. One time, I swear my head almost exploded. But if your husband cleans his new toy regularly—tell him to sign up for a weekly maintenance service—there’s no reason not to take a dip. You never know, it might improve your love life.

U.

Urination (Nervous Pisser Syndrome)

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

If I’m standing next to another man at a public urinal, I can’t pee. Even if I’m desperate to go —not a drop. I once queued up for 20 minutes at a rock concert to use the loo, and then had to walk away, because I was wedged between two big blokes. I’ve never known any of my friends to have the same problem. What’s wrong with me?

Terry, Essex

Let me ask you a question, Terry: when this happens, are you absolutely sure you need to pee? I mean, when I need to relieve myself, there ain’t no choice about it. I don’t care if the Coldstream Guards are standing next to me, whatever’s inside is coming out. So my advice is to wait until you’re more desperate to go. Or see a shrink: it might be anxiety.

DR. OZZY’S SURGERY NOTICEBOARD

“Performance” Anxiety

¦ Important news from Ray in Suffolk: “According to a study of public urinal usage in America, ‘flow start’ was delayed by an average of 20 seconds when two blokes were standing right next to each other—as opposed to a solo effort.” So poor old Terry in Essex obviously ain’t suffering alone.

V.

Vaginas (Fishy)

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

I’ve been told that the best way to prevent unpleasant odour in your private areas is to avoid using soap, only water. This sounds a bit counterintuitive to me. Could it be true?

Tyler (no address given)

It would help to know if you were a guy or a girl. Assuming you own a pair of testicles, whoever gave you this advice obviously wasn’t planning on sitting next to you in a hot car any time soon. In general, avoiding soap is never gonna prevent unpleasant odours. The only thing it’s gonna prevent is you making any friends—unless you’re using a power hose (which I obviously don’t recommend). If you’re a member of the more complicated sex, on the other hand, my wife tells me that you do actually need to be very careful when it comes to soap and your sensitive areas, especially if you like lathering yourself up with the heavily scented grandma-type stuff. Bear in mind, though: the Prince of Darkness ain’t exactly a world-authority on female anatomy. If you’re really concerned about it, get yourself an appointment with a gynaecologist.

Vertigo

Dear Dr. Ozzy: