Stories from a Dublin Scientist

Month: September, 2017

Doctor Joe: Agony Uncle 27

Doctor Joe: Agony Uncle, knows how much wood a woodchuck can chuck*.

Dear Doctor Joe,

I write you a man distraught. I had been having problems in my marriage over the last few years but nothing at all that would lead me to believe that things had gone beyond hope. I figured that all I needed to do was leave work early, buy a nice steak, bottle of wine and some flowers and come home to give my wife a little TLC.

No sooner did I get home but I heard some noises coming from the bed room. I walked in and found my wife in bed with José the gardener.

I was in shock. Without letting anyone say anything, I walked out of the room, the house and back to my car. I been driving around the city for the whole evening and  have booked a cheap Motel for the evening where I am now.

Doctor Joe, I don’t know what to do. I loved my wife, but I don’t know how I feel about her now. Can you help me?

Distraught Derek.


Dear Derek,

I have to say that I had to read your letter a few times because I just could not believe what I was reading. The horrific acts described in your words brought a pause to my breath and scandalized my heart. I don’t know what to say, what I can do to help alleviate the situation but I will try my best…..


How could you. Was it a T-Bone a tenderloin? It doesn’t matter, any man who can’t take care of his meat has no business being involved with a woman. With your slapdash approach to animal products it is no wonder that your wife found solace with another man. Who could blame her?

You say you want her back, that you don’t intend to abandon her like a rib-eye in the sun. Not that I totally trust your convictions in this but there may be a way for you to prove yourself.

Look after some meat.

Maybe not a steak, not as first, that may be too much for you. Perhaps a couple of porkchops or some chicken breasts to start with. look after them, take care of them. DON’T ABANDON THEM. Don’t leave them on their own with no one to eat them. and maybe, just maybe things can turn out alright.

Good luck. I know you’re going to need it.

Doctor Joe

*Editors note: Eight.

To read more from Doctor Joe or leave a question check out here.



When the Tel’krit embassy in New York was first opened it was expected that they would, like all their interstellar compatriots, staff themselves with natives of their home planet. But it turns out, it was just too expensive for the planetary government to pay for transport of sufficient staff and instead decided to hire locals.

This was, of course, looked upon as a mild case of madness by the rest of the diplomatic community and dire warnings, hushed gossip and no small amount of currency wagered on when things were going to go balls-up.

The Tel’krit though were having none of it. They’re a stoic race and were certain that any problems caused by hiring humans could be sorted out a few days “Cultural Training” and good old fashioned “common sense”.

And they were right, at first, that was until Sandra Kulinski came into work one morning and was instructed by the ambassador’s chief aide that they would be requiring a human dish specifically an omelette for a breakfast that would be held for some human business executives that morning and that she was to check the pantry for whatever they had that could be used and to buy the rest.

She quickly found the vegetables, spices and oils for cooking but was short only one ingredient, eggs. No matter, she was about to set out to the local store to buy a dozen when she saw through an open door, a half dozen just lying there on a bed of sand. They were a little big, slightly grey in colour, but not far from the norm. They would do nicely.

What the embassy staff would later find out, after quite a deal of consternation, is that common sense didn’t always cross species boundaries, things that every Tel’krit child knew like red lines should never be crossed, or how doors left open signify something inside that owner wants to display but certainly not take.

Most importantly, however, they found that while Sandra had been learning Kritian for some weeks she still had a lot to go and, for example, did not know the prominent sign on the door she entered said “nursery”.