The Dilemma of the Unhappy Adventurer

Dear reader,

I find myself in a peculiar personal situation which is so far out of my realm of experience that I'm using this channel to ask for advice as I feel there must be other people around in my position. I truly don't know what to do and would appreciate any advice anybody out there has to offer. Here's the problem.

I am a person of independent means, which means that I can do as I like with my time and this, until a year ago, suited me to perfection. I traveled, I indulged; indeed I did not shy away from any experience life had to offer and I wanted for nothing. Then, on a whim, I suddenly married twelve months ago and that’s when the trouble started.

At first I enjoyed being a husband, the simplicity of domestic bliss had briefly enslaved me but eventually, three months later, the novelty wore off and I found myself craving freedom. Once again I yearned to expect the unexpected, to embrace life’s pleasures unfettered and so, in keeping with my newly found zest, I began an affair with a woman. The excitement I felt every time I presented my wife and my mistress with yet another lie to account for my whereabouts is hard to put to words. To put it simply I felt alive and if it wasn’t for my falling in love, I would be feeling it still.

It's only recently that I've come to understand that love hurts. It's certainly turned my world upside down, I can tell you. I used to be so carefree, so beautifully callous in my romantic pursuits, which were numerous. Those were wonderful times, when visions of exhilarating adventures, piles of them, delightfully uncomplicated and brief, galloped through my head, just after lunch when I’d sit back nursing a cognac; for hours I was lost in reflection and the planning of my next affair. I had the best time of my life, I admit, when I was about to make a new conquest, all without feeling the least bit of guilt.

Alas, those days have now sadly come to an end. Since I fell in love I only mope and furrow my brow as I sit contemplating life without my angel because divorce, due to an iron-clad prenup is out of the question. Not only would my wife fleece me of every last cent but, to add insult to injury, she's concerned over my well-being. Of course, I take into account that the stupid woman is blissfully unaware about my situation but when she plies me with her never-ending inquiries as to why I seem so forlorn, I feel like putting my head in a bucket. I can't bear to look at her, and not just because she's frightfully ugly. It's all that and more. I am in a pretty pickle, I realize as I gaze at her long ovine face which her worried expression makes only longer and more ovine, and I wish I had not gotten that rotten drunk that night at the casino when I woke up in that cheap motel with her by my side waving the marriage certificate at me in that triumphant manner. We're married, darling! She bleated and she had my signature to prove it.

Well, what could I do? Tell her my heart wasn't in it? I should have but I didn't. I've been a gentleman all my life and it's been my undoing. As a result, my life today is full of regrets. Well, I try to make the best of the situation; as I juggle my two lives, heaping lies upon lies in both directions, I seem to be sinking deeper into deception and there’s no end to it.

So this is my story, dear reader, and I am hoping that you will be able to offer some insight into this peculiar situation and tell me what to do.

Yours truly
Unhappy Adventurer

The Tale of A Worthy Albeit Slightly Flatulent Young Man, and No Other Stories

The Tale of a Worthy Albeit Flatulent Young Man and No Other Stories

A fragrant account of one man's struggle to succeed against incredible odds. (Inspirational)

Cursed with a stupid name and an embarrassing condition — TMG/CEFD (Too Much Gas/Continual Excessive Flatulence Disorder) otherwise known as F.L.A.T.U.L.E.N.C.E Disorder (Fetid, Loud, Abominably Turbulent & Utterly Lethal, Extremely Noxious Current (wind) Expulsion Disorder) commonly referenced as FLATULENCE, Jesus Kryst was a thoroughly unfortunate man. Farting uncontrollably all the time, Jesus suffered ridicule, bad luck and persecution, and was about to throw in the towel when he discovered the power of the fart and turned his life around.

This fragrant and inspirational account of one man’s struggle to succeed against incredible odds is sure to bring a tear to your eye and a scented hankie to your nose. Illustrated by the author whose vivid imagination and sledgehammer wit has become legendary to her fans (4), The Tale of a Worthy Albeit Slightly Flatulent Young Man is well worth the $0.99 download fee. Enjoy!

Solicited testimonials:

Aromatic and pungent … Fan Number 1

A tour de force to be reckoned with ... Fan Number 2

The truth reeks … Fan Number 3

Deliciously putrid … Fan Number 4

A stinking tale … A randomly approached reader who is NOT a fan

Featured in the collection of amusing short stories titled The English Patient, Dr Zhivago and the Purposeful Stride, and Other Stories now available to download from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Smashwords, Apple and everywhere else on the net for a very reasonable price.

 Let me know what you thought, cheers xo

The English Patient, Dr Zhivago and the Purposeful Stride, and Other Stories

Short Fiction: The English Patient, Dr Zhivago and the Purposeful Stride, and Other Stories

A collection of amusing short stories about the human condition revealing the absurdity of our existence.

Stories appearing in this collection are:

The English Patient, Doctor Zhivago and the Purposeful Stride

The College Girl and the Older Man

I Was Young Once

The Influential Life of Speckly Jim

The Fleeting Nature of True Friendship

The Waiting Room and the Supermarket Trolley

The Dog and the Parrot

The Long Lunch

The Man of Constant Sorrow

The Remains of the Cheese

The Proposal

The Imaginary Lover

Any Man

Suffer the Little Children

The Cautionary Tale of a Young Doodler

The Tale of Desperately Boring Mike

The Tale of the Tall Lady and the Feisty Midget

The Pungent Tale of the Open-Toe Sandal

The Tale of a Worthy Albeit Slightly Flatulent Young Man


Please note: the novels 'The English Patient' and 'Dr Zhivago' are NOT included in this collection of short stories; in fact, they have nothing to do with it.

The Cautionary Tale of a Young Doodler and Other Stories

The Cautionary Tale of a Young Doodler and Other Stories

A collection of letters to Dear Ned, an Agony Aunt with an eye for the bizarre, the unfortunate, the misshapen, and the plain silly.

The Cautionary Tale of a Young Doodler:

P. Casso, an unremarkable young man in charge of phone enquiries in an art gallery, spends his working hours in a pleasant daze doodling aimlessly at his desk until a random drawing lands him in such an unexpected awkward situation, the young man is compelled to write to Dear Ned for advice.

The Tale of Desperately Boring Mike:

Dear Ned is called upon to help desperately boring Mike, a young man who, by his own admission, is desperately boring and consequently has trouble attracting the opposite sex. Will Dear Ned be able to help? He might if he can stay awake long enough to read the entire letter …

The Tale of the Tall Lady and the Feisty Midget:

Dear Ned has to arbitrate when a romance goes awry after a tall lady engaged to a feisty midget with a suspicious mind and unresolved anger management issues begins to doubt their future together.

The Pungent Tale of the Open-Toe Sandal:

When a maid of honour gets demoted to a banquet hall usher at her sister’s wedding due to her foot odour problem, the unfortunate lady turns to Dear Ned for advice, thinking he might be the only one able to help with the embarrassing situation. But could this be the straw that broke the camel’s back for Dear Ned?

To find out the answer to this and the other ‘conundrums’ Dear Ned is facing in this here volume of amusing albeit silly stories, download them NOW and let us know how you liked them. Cheers, Yours Truly

The Interview

In July 2008 Ivana Hruba appeared on the popular television show: Ned's Pearls of Wisdom The Television Show. The interview in its entirety (4.20 mins) is transcribed below. 

In the studio of the famous television show 'Ned's Greatest Reads', Ned, the host, leans seductively toward the author Ivana Hruba seated across the table from him.

Ned (squinting at the cue card in his hand): “So I’m reading here that you’re pretty, witty and very, very talented.”

Ivana: (smiling and casting demure glances like a virgin bride): “Don’t you believe everything you hear, Ned. I wouldn’t say I’m very very talented. Just talented, really.”

Ned (nodding): “I see. It says here that you write, paint, draw cartoons, decoupage, crochet clothes for your dogs and your cat, trim trees into geometrical shapes, dress garden gnomes as characters in Shakespearean plays, fluently gesture in fifty-five languages, make really tiny landscapes in really tiny glass bottles using only toothpicks and moss, organize baby wardrobes for a modest fee and … (here Ned squints closely at the print out) … make nice smelling candles to sell at your local church. That’s very impressive, Ivana.”

Ivana (looking very pleased): “It is, Ned. And I also play the guitar.”

Ned (with just a hint of irony): “Aha. You wouldn’t be a singer too, by any chance, would you?”

Ivana: (a slight blush suffusing her attractive cheeks): “Well, funnily enough, I was in a band for years.”

Ned: “Singing?”

Ivana: “Lead.”

Ned: “Naturally.”

Ivana: “Naturally.” (Here Ivana beams, winking at Ned and raising her brows just so.)

Ned (taking the hint) affords himself an indulgent smile: “And you were successful, I take it?”

Ivana (grinning expectantly at the thought of delivering a witty punch-line): “Well, we made just enough to keep me in waitressing.”

A slight pause follows during which Ned starts to look worried and Ivana eventually stops grinning.

Ivana (tossing her hair playfully): “I’d like to point out that I am no longer in that line of work.”

Ned: “Oh? What made you give it up?”

Ivana: “Popular demand, really.”

Ned: (laughs heartily): “Sorry to hear that. It must have been tough when nobody showed up.”

Ivana (looking pointedly around the empty studio): “I wouldn’t know about that. We had lots of people come to our shows. Loads, really.”

Ned: “So it was a good show then?”

Ivana: “Oh, yes. Well worth the two dollar cover charge. We had queues every night we played.”

Ned: “Really? At the door?”

Ivana: “Well … (looks undecided for a moment then decides to tell the truth) … perhaps I should explain. There were queues at the toilets every pension night because we only played every second Thursday and they wouldn’t let us use the stage so we just set up by the wall between the Ladies and the Men’s but the drummer couldn’t really fit the drum kit in that tiny narrow space so the kit basically barred the toilets on both sides and people had trouble getting in.”

Ned (after a pause during which he stared intently at Ivana sitting across from him): “Right, right. Interesting. So, why didn’t you keep going if you were that popular?”

Ivana: “I wasn’t really comfortable with that kind of exposure. It was too much. People were taking photos and everything.”

Ned (perking up): “What? You did nude photos?”

Ivana (gasping theatrically): “Me? I never!”

Ned: “Why not?”

Ivana: “Nobody asked, if you must know.”

An awkward pause follows during which Ned contemplates why it was that Ivana wasn’t asked to pose nude and Ivana contemplates why Ned would be wondering about that when there are great literary tomes to talk about. The hush is broken when Ned eventually mutters): “Sooo, let us speak about the novels. I would imagine your work is worth a lot to you.”

Ivana: “Well, Ned, I don’t think about it in monetary terms. It’s not viable, really.”

Ned: “Of course, not. You can’t really put a price on those things, can you?”

Ivana: “Oh, I could.”

Ned laughs a wee bit too loud. Leaning slightly forward, he winks at Ivana: “Tell me how much you got for the books.”

Ivana sighs, looking resigned if slightly uncomfortable because she knows she has no choice but to answer - after all, she had promised to give a ‘warts and all’ interview: “Well, I won’t go into details, dear Ned, but I can tell you that the money I’ve already received is well in line with the immense talent I possess and the high profile I enjoy.”

Ned: “Yes, I’ve heard you’re huge on social networking websites. It says here you’ve got about five hundred friends on Ned’s Greatest Reads.”

Ivana beams proudly and casts more demure glances: “Actually, it’s a bit more than that. 538 in total.”

Ned: “Right, right. Interesting. Soo … (Ned nods thoughtfully, swiveling slightly in his swivel chair) … would you say you’re close to these people?”

Ivana (hesitantly): “Well … we’re friends, you know.”

Ned: “Aha. So if you came face to face with one, you’d be okay with that?”

Ivana: “Oh, yeah. I’d be all right. I carry me Mace on me at all times.

Ned picks up a stack of loose papers he had been gathering into a pile during the interview and taps the pile into a neat stack.

Ned: “Well then, Ivana, it’s been a pleasure.” (He beams at the author, extending his hand towards her in a gesture of good-bye.)

Ivana (confusedly): “Huh? So soon? Can we talk about me books?”

Ned: “Sorry, love. We’re out of time.”