Dear Uncle Mart

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Life getting on top of you? Feeling down in the dumps? Don't worry, Uncle Mart is here to help with all your problems. If you need a shoulder to cry on, or just some friendly advice, I'm always here when you need me, at

Dear Uncle Mart MRCGP,

Can you help me with an important question regarding UBMSRFC. I'll leave Schwing and his 'little tablets that make his muscles "grow big" for another occasion! Having had occasion to read your great psychosexual therapy web-page, i have become extremely worried about the state of the afore mentioned rugby club. Timmay is gay, obviously; we have members (quite literally) down under who are
trying to spread the word of the round-headed one, and the club is generally a shambles.

Is this club, in your esteemed opinion a rugby club that likes a few beers every night of thier lives, or a bunch of pissed up students that likes a game of rugby to discuss in the bar of a saturday evening.

I would hope that the former is the case.

Yours sincerely,

Dear Anon,
Many thanks for drawing attention to this problem, and many thanks for regaling us with that marvellous naked story recently - my, you do know how to tell a good tale!
The club is much like the economy, it has its ups and it has its downs. We could sit here like a bunch business studies students and waste countless hours tossing up numbers (and ourselves) and try to uncover the exact whys and wherefores of the current situation. But we won't. Why? Because we prefer to spend our time saving lives, a much better use of time I think you'll agree.
During one of the quieter moments of my busy day, I happened to catch up with a chairman of years past, tall ginger fellow with a penchant for silver taps, or is that golden showers? It seems as though these peaks and troughs are quite characteristic of the Club and doubts about its future have been raised ever since it was founded.
With the male-to-female intake ratio dropping, and any fresher with a Y chromosomes joining Gaystick-soc, the future does certainly seems bleak. But the key, I feel, is to focus on rugby. We should be a Club who plays rugby and enjoys a drink, not a Club who drinks and enjoys rugby - a subtle but very important difference. One way to do this is to crack down on the fair-weather social players - the ones who, despite being injury-free, never turn up regularly on Staurday mornings, yet wear their High-Viz jackets and Club ties with such pride - false pride!
As for the Roundhead down-under and Timmy's gender and sexuality issues, I feel that along with Schwings little pills, they are a topic for another day!
Yours recruitingly
Uncle Mart MRCRugby

Dear Uncle Mart,

I have a confession.....

As a recent graduate of the fine institute of UBMS, i
was understandably devestated at the prospect of
having to leave its warm, mothering bosom and be
thrust out to a new city to learn new and strange
things. This grief became all to much over the lonely
summer months, and soon the grave situation began to
take its toll.....

In the time when i wasn't sweating over a pipette, or
cultivating some facinating cells, i gorged myself on
a combination of Ginsters pasties, lasagne and
toblerone bars (the large ones). By the end of the
summer my physical apperance had swollen to serious
anaphylactic proportions. To be honest, it looked like
i'd swallowed Dawn French. 'With this cunning physical
transformation' i thought out loud (a bit like the
Claw from Inspector Gadget), 'i can infiltrate back
into the Clooob and no-one will ever be the wiser'
followed by a long, loud cackling laugh.
However, due to insider information, it looks like i
have been rumbled, so i bid adiure, and slink back to
leicester with my tail between my fat little legs to
say 15 hail-mary's.

(Fat) Paro (the original) BMedSc (hons)

p.s - Medicine is Shit.
p.p.s - kind of miss you c*nts!
Dear Fat Para (The Original)
It's good to hear from you.  Having wasted a good few years of your life on general tomfoolery, it's nice to know you've wised up and joined us at the higher ranks. Well done.
How is Leciester?  I trust you put your senior years and wisdom to good use during freshers (though with the demographic of Leicester being what it is, i can't imagine that being a blast! - No pun intended!)
Right, to the issue in hand.  Once word had got round about there being a fat Para in our midst, in their haste to hunt out this fledgling, some members of the club went a litle mental and accused a number of freshers of bring "Fat Para" - most notably Fresher John.  I have seen the actual "fatty", but only once, in the drunken, dimly lit haziness that is Medbar.  There is a passing resemblance but I wouldn't like to comment until I see "the portly one" in the cold light of day.  I have to say that as yet I'm unconvinced of your recincarnated presence.  Let's analyse the evidence...
He hasn't turned up to any games yet, he has a receding hairline, when I met him he bleated about injury and on trials day he rounded up the 3rd team and tries to collect match subs for the last three matches! Fuck me it's true, he really is you!
As yet this young 'un has not made his (skid) mark on the med school nor the club, and so I look forward to the coming weeks, or failing that...INITIATIONS! I'll keep you posted.
So, keep up the good work, at least on this proper course you know that any work you do has a real purpose!
Uncle Mart MAChO

Gday Uncle Mart,
So disgusted I was by the lack of bleating last year, and the fact that stoke is the biggest fistula in the world, I have left the Garden of Eden to seek my fortunes down under.
Here I have encountered many roundheads, our force is strong here.
This has encouraged me to open an australian branch of the roundheads and I hope to establish a touring side soon sponsored by
I am also chuffed by Beaman's  - Martin can be an anatomy demonstrator - inability to 'let go' but it begs the question is he the new nookie?
Good luck for the new season - if Charlie is paying have the preseason tour here!
Birds love it up them here!
The Red Sea Pedestrian
Chairman of the Australian Association of Roundheads
Gday Shafar
Seems that all clubs members once qualifed go to the land down-under. Sounds good to me!
As for Beamon being the new Nookie, I actually think we have already found a successor - Juggers! Seems that he spends more of his time with the club than with patients! No doubt trials day on Saturday will force the ageing clubber to appear once again.
Tour in Oz sounds like a good laugh. Although we barely make it past the Aston Expressway every week, how will we manage to go across the world? Mart organising it!
Hope you're not flashing that hoodless chipolata in front of too many Aussie fitties!
Keep it up my good man.
Uncle Mart

Dear Uncle Mart
Recently I, along with several others members of the cloooooooob,
have expressed concern over one of our fledglings. This youngster
turned up at freshers bright eyed, bushy tailed and eager to
please. However week by week his behaviour began to change,
almost 'mimicing' that of the outrageously well-off Crispy.
This previously well-behaved chap has even recently
been spotted eating eating money, claiming how rich he is (although
I have it on authority he has been seen buying fake Gucci from
George at Asda) and even going so far as to move in and share a
bed with the afore-mentioned portly millionaire when Singhy had
to return to the mines for Eid. This thankfully hasn't yet been
spotted by the other housemate, on account
that he cant open his eyes properly. Two theories have been put
forward for this bizarre transformation
1) The young sapling is obviously so impressed by Charlie's
wit, charm and charisma, especially the way he manages to make
friends with anybody and everybody, in particular those studying
BA Geography (Hons-Colouring in) that he desperately wants to
emulate his ways. Upon statistical analysis of this theory, it
was proved to be highly unlikely, and so the second theory
was put forward:
2) Being a third year BMedWhy, and recently finishing a module
titled 'Cells and stuff', I firmly believe Charlie is genetically
cultivating a successor to take over the Crispy Estates when he
has passed. By taking scapings fron inside his rectum, Charlie
can then inject his cells directly into the brain stem of the
young one. Here, a recently discovered molecule known only as
"DNA" can incorporate itself into his victims "DNA", thus over
time producing a Charlie clone. These dramatic effects are
already present in the young lad's behaviour, so how long will
it be until we see physical changes? I'm sure I've already noticed
his forehead disappearing and reappearing in his mandible, and a
redistribution of bodyfat with a gradual accumulation in the
gluteal region.
Surely it is our duty to put a stop to this and save Ian, I
mean the fresher, from a life of snobbery and terrible hair?
Trying to put a name to this email and am at a bit of a loss.
You don't happen to look a bit like Mr Bean do you? Anyway on
to the disturbing mater at hand.
I'm a bit stuck as to how to advise you on this matter. The last
time I spoke to this young fresher he seemed reasonably personable,
so I assume that he is not that far gone - hopefully we've caught
this early enough. What you need to do is assess how he has
changed since being back at home over Christmas. Two things
could have happened:
1) The lack of exposure to the "corrupter" and an abundance of
maternal love, may have gone some way to reverse the effects
that you've seen.
2) The incubation period is over and the "disease" has taken
full effect, comsuming every element of his being. He will
return being a foot shorter, a few stones heavier and will
live on a diet of tens and twenties - fifties if he is
feeling good.
Whilst it is our duty to help him, the best thing we can do
is kill him now, show no mercy and ensure his DNA line is ended.
We cannot let these genetically-carried characteristics survive.
we owe it to our children, and our children's children. Oh sorry.
Went a bit off-on-one there. What I meant to say was, just be
there for him and offer him support when he needs it. If that
doesn't work perhaps offering him an exploding cigar, touting
it as so expensive that the riff-raff can't even afford to look
at it. That should entice him!
Uncle Mart BMedSc PhD (law)
Dear uncle mart,
I was once a member of your club until ascending the ranks of med
school prized me away to earn my fortunes as a scivy for consultants.
You may remember me as a parter of waves, a pedestrian of the red sea!
Sat hear on my first of many nights i have marveled at the beauty
of your website especially the kenny logan league table. However
it saddens me as the founder member of a unique society that
exercised their right for free inscecent speech, that the bleatometer
has been shunned into the history books. Has suggers lost the faith?
Has it been cast away forever like such great institutions as going for gold?
Another query dearest mart is, as i am now working who leads the
fight for the roundheads? Men in stoke obviously dont clean their
cavaliers as most of them are stuck onto their penis - juggers!
I hope that you can give me some answers.
Help me please
Dr B.Shaffar
President Circumsoc
Hello there doctor.
To old and grown-up to come and play a few games for your old
club, hey? Bad boy!
Yes plans are in place to create a new bleat-o-meter, and by
the tone of your letter it seems that you are currently top of
the league! With the club loss of Juggs,Lambleato and Anal
Banger (formerly top of the bleat-o-meter) I'll have to keep
my ears open for more culprits, though I suspect that no-one
will quite match up to those three. And no, Suggs has not
lost the faith, in fact the way things are going I don't think
buying shares in Prozac would be an altogether bad financial move.
As for the roundheads vs hooded warriors battle, I think this
is an important issue and will notify the Chairman immediately.
Thank you for notifying me of this.
Have a happy Hannukah
Uncle Mart Ret. (Major)
My Dearest Uncle Martin,
I've rung nite line, seen a psychiatrist and even had a heart-to-heart
with a priest, but to no avail -you are my last hope in my state of 
turmoil. Please help me.
Let me begin. To cut a long story short, I finished clinics early on
 a cold frosty November afternoon and on returning home, caught 
my housemate in our living room, spanking
                           his monkey over a 
                           video. Thankfully, I didn't actually see the heinous act - but
 all the evidence was there:
* On placing the key in the lock, I heard a panciked frenzy of
movement from inside

* My housemate's head apeared at the window with an
 expression I can only describe as "a rabbit in the headlights"

* On opening the door, a musky aroma hit me in the face
The room was strangely vacent, like a  western ghost-town after
 a brutal gun fight
* A slightly tachypnoeic
                           voice called from the kitchen: "Cup of Tea?"
* The masturbating
                           fiend appeared with my beverage, unknown
 to him-with in flies wide
                           open and a clearly visible gland still half mast
* Suddenly,
                           an excuse was presented for conveniently 
changing the contents
                           of the VCR: "oh, we haven't watched
 this video for a while". To
                           which he swiftly switched cassettes.
* The bashful sweaty wankaholic
                           eventually retired to his humble
 abode upstairs to finish himself
                           off, whilst I sat in his 
afternoon-beating-parlour and enjoyed
                           the pleasures of Countdown.
So, my dear Uncle, shall I confront him with this matter, or
shall I sweep in under the carpet (along with his half-used
 tattered jizz-rag)? 

Once again, please keep Timmays identity anonymous,
for the sake of both of us, and
                           our two oblivious female housemates.
All my love,
Mr. B. Deal xx

Hello young B. Deal
You are still coming over
                           for Christmas dinner with your aunt
 and me, aren't you? Anyway
                           before we discuss any festivities,
 lets deal with the sordid matter
                           at hand.
First off I'm a little offended that you didn't come to
                           me with 
this problem first. Surely you know that ringing late night
 dating, I mean "help" lines and going cheek-to-cheek, I
 mean heart-to-heart with a priest would be of no use. But

                           at least you're here now. While we all enjoyed a little quality

                           time with the "Old Persuader" on a cold November afternoon, 
I think
                           in these circumstances it needs to be frowned upon. In 
my day one
                           used to take their time, showing the necessary love
 and attention.
                           More importantly it was a sacred act performed 
in a sacred haven
                           - or at least your own bedroom! Nowadays
 you youngsters seemed
                           to have reduced the act to a 30-second 
affair and with this increased
                           speed are able to bash one forth
 anywhere - public toilets, the
                           ATH, behind the speakers in 
Frenzy and in the toilets of a Jumbo
                           jet (though some of us are 
not able to awake the beast at 30,000
                           ft, but that's an issue for
 you housemate to raise in another letter
                           to me!)
In this situation I think we should focus less on the act
and more on the motive of performing it in your living room. 
 And that is power, though I'm sure repressed sexual aggression
 toward his mother features somewhere. Yes power, plain and 
simple. Whilst everyone was out, he was king of the castle, man 
of the house, lord of the manor. As such he will do as he sees fit.
 And off with his head anyone that says otherwise.
                           second issue this raises (much like the way his right hand
                           "issues" on that fateful afternoon) is what else does he
 do whilst
                           you are all out of the house? I'll let you figure that one out!
                           let's wrap this up. Confront the heinous little onanist with 
                           evidence and let him know that his "card is marked." I leave 
                           with the thought that whilst watching Countdown you were
                           tea made with "contaminated" fingers - lovely!
Uncle Martin PhD

Dear Uncle Mart,

I am writing as a concerned housemate about a previously concerned

housemate. The housemate in question has been in recent correspondence

with you about my sexuality, which I and many lucky, lucky ladies

can confirm is totally straight. I feel that this certain fat, old, wannabe

young and youthful, Welshman has certain issues which need to be

addressed. I think he has realised that he is well past his sell by date

and is more than a little bit jealous of those with traits he has long lost.

He must realise that his pulling power is at a minimum, and it seems

that he has taken to stalking young freshers, who I add are young

enough to be his daughters, in an attempt to salvage some youth.

Due to the inevitable disaster of this, I have noticed rather a lot of stray cats leaving our house with a look of what can only be described as sheer terror. I feel that he has rather confused the term 'pussy' and is going for a 10 point tally.

Please help!!!!! Anon


UM: Dear Anon

With regards to your sexuality I think the jury's still out (as are you!) on

that one, especially since you did yourself no favours with those rainbow

braces on Um-Pa night! We won't draw a line under that yet, but Ill mark

it with a definite question mark. Now on to the real issues at hand.

I'm not sure we've caught this in time, even my powers have their limits.

What we can do though, is look at the evidence objectively. Yes he

certainly is older than most of us, but with regards to the fat comment,

he is making an effort so we should not be too harsh (more on this later).

And even the age thing, we'd all like to salvage some youth, but in his

case I'm sure the phrase "ravage some youth" is much more appropriate

(on a Dublin trip perhaps, on a ferry where the little teasers cant escape

ha ha...ha ha ha ha ha ha...cough, choke, cough).

His position on medsoc seemed to hold little weight with the fillies, so

he tried his hand as a thespian (he only wishes he could try his hand on

the other one) dedicating himself to the school play. In a bid to show

off his sensitive side ("Wasn't Schindlers List a great film") he took to

the stage to show off a range of deep and tortured emotions. Sadly

though, he resembled a piece of 2" by 4" much more than a frustrated

gang member.

Now the truth really comes out. With the performance in mind, he

signed up to the gym, and began a rigorous exercise routine of

callisthenics and aerobics, the goal being to look buff for the beater. Now

the said beater was/is atrocious, worn by most only in jest, but can be

seen modelled in all seriousness by the Asian badboys on a Friday night

at Star City. But it was part of the costume, so we'll let him off. But when

you find out that he religiously performed 20 press up before the

performance each night, to get "the pump" I'm sure you'll cut him a lot

less slack. Coupled with the eye liner, I don't know what to think.

As for the cats, I'd let it go if he were to go for a Mrs Bigglesworth,

but we all know he'll settle for the strays. I think my only advice can

go to the owners. Much like on Bonfire night, "Make sure your pets

are safely locked away at home!"


Uncle Mart M.B.E.



Dear Uncle Mart

Please help me in my time of need. I have an inherited error of metabolism that has been depositing lead over my feet for the past 4 years or so. I am extremely embarssed about my condition and have found that it has been impeding my performance at the line out. Recently, the boys have been saying that I have "lead boots"- do they know? What am I to do?


The Salmon

(ps. I also have problems catching kickoffs but I think this is related to my lilly liveredness) 


UM : My dearest Salmon,

Don't worry, together we'll sort your plight out. This is what you have to do...First of all park your car illegally on Dawlish Road. Next get it towed away. After paying an extortinate amount of money to get it back, get exceptionally pissed at the Umpa night at TC's Exclusive Members Only establishment. Next venture into the Chamon, abuse everyone, pass out, vomit in the cab on the way home and then piss yourself on your mate's sofa. Don't forget to lose your glasses.

Follow these simple guidelines and you'll wake up on Sunday morning feeling a new man.


Uncle Mart F.R.C.S.


Dear Uncle Mart

You might remember me from last year, when I was in despair regarding the sexual orientation of my house mate. Once again I'd like to remain anonymous.

To cut a long story short, I caught him spanking his monkey in a public telephone box in Harborne. On confrontation, he claimed he was "adjusting himself." But the fact he was wearing only a cravatte and a monocle, perplexed me somewhat. On taking the phone from his clammy hands, I heard the coarse voice of an excited man.

So Uncle Mart, is Timay gay?



UM : Yes


Uncle Mart M.D.