We would "Ask Noel", but he's fucked
off somewhere...
They seek him here, they seek him there, in Regent Street and Leicester Square. He’s a dedicated follower of fashion the Scarlet Pimpernel a man on the run. Although, to be fair, he’s also a pretty natty dresser, and there are indeed some years of his life in the late 1700s still shrouded in mystery, so who knows? However, that’s all in the past; nowadays he’s Snipe’s Agony Aunt, known only as Noel. Inspired by those other great fashion icons Madonna and Prince, he eschews the use of a last name.
Some things don’t change, though, and he is still being actively sought by various people, not least the Snipe Editor who, having continued to pay his salary over the last few weeks, is understandably anxious to actually get a column in return. There’s also the small matter of the now rather heavily pregnant skank he once met in a seedy Berkshire fleapit (we won’t dignify it with the name of nightclub) who now claims he’s got her up the duff. Her name is Billie Jean, so we understand why he have wanted a DNA test, if it he weren’t so scared what it might reveal about his midichlorian levels.
Noel has moved on from his South American location, leaving no forwarding address. Locals claimed he’d said he was heading north “to meet up with his spiritual kindred”. We tried calling him, but his phone was answered by an oddly angry man called Charlie, who seemed strangely accustomed to giving interviews. Rather than have an empty page on the site this week, we decided to ask him the questions sent in for Noel and see what happened.
Some things don’t change, though, and he is still being actively sought by various people, not least the Snipe Editor who, having continued to pay his salary over the last few weeks, is understandably anxious to actually get a column in return. There’s also the small matter of the now rather heavily pregnant skank he once met in a seedy Berkshire fleapit (we won’t dignify it with the name of nightclub) who now claims he’s got her up the duff. Her name is Billie Jean, so we understand why he have wanted a DNA test, if it he weren’t so scared what it might reveal about his midichlorian levels.
Noel has moved on from his South American location, leaving no forwarding address. Locals claimed he’d said he was heading north “to meet up with his spiritual kindred”. We tried calling him, but his phone was answered by an oddly angry man called Charlie, who seemed strangely accustomed to giving interviews. Rather than have an empty page on the site this week, we decided to ask him the questions sent in for Noel and see what happened.
Dear Noel,
You are a fashion god; I beseech you to bestow on me your divine wisdom. Is it indeed true, as claimed in the Snipe Guy code, that skinny jeans do not make you look gay?
Yours,
Concerned of Aberystwyth
Dear Concerned,
When you have the blood of a tiger and are as epically well hung as I am, anything looks fucking amazing on you. If you’re a pansy without the required self confidence, your only hope of looking better than a day-old turd in them is to have a bear-like hairy chest.
Tell anyone who challenges your masculinity to go stick their own cock up their own arse. I did!
Now bugger off,
Charlie
Dear Noel,
I think I’ve fallen in love with my boss. He’s so cool and so sexy and so fashionable and he has awesome hair. He even writes poetry. How can I carry on working with him without him realising how I feel?
Yours,
Snipe Reporter. No wait... ummm… I mean…. Anonymous of Somewhere far from Snipe Towers. Yeah.
Dear Anon,
All bosses are the scum of the earth who steal your soul and ruin your life. Get over him. Quit your job. I did!
Power to the comrades!
Charlie
Dear Noel,
I’ve been told there is no God and the world was started by some kind of Big Bang. That sounds like it makes a lot of sense. Does this mean I don’t have to go to church and pretend like I give a shit about it anymore, and can I now boff anyone I like without going to hell? Even if I want to boff other boys?
Yours,
Heretic of Canterbury
Dear Heretic,
I’m a secret Vatican assassin. A high priest Vatican warlock. I’m going to come and kill you if you don’t repent your ways. I did.
Die in Flames!
Charlie
Dear Noel,
I have a problem. Two incredibly hot women are both madly in love with me. One of them’s a porn star and the other can cook a mean bacon sandwich. Which do I choose?
Yours,
Deluded of Reading
Dear Deluded,
Move them both in with you. I did! Also stock up on the little blue pills. I did!
Rock on,
Charlie
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SNIPE Magazine wishes to inform its readership that all characters appearing in this article are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Furthermore, all opinions and advice contained therein are purely the opinions of the persons stating them and do not represent the official view of SNIPE in any way, nor does SNIPE accept any responsibility for what may happen to you should you choose to follow the advice in question. Hopefully that covers our ass now. Suckers.
