Ask Doctor Ovid

Taken from the pages of the Ancient Times Weekly (Ancientus Timus Weekus)

ASK DR OVID

Dating tips and relationship advice for Ancient Romans.



Dear Dr Ovid,

There's this girl I really like, and I really, really want to ask her out. But I'm not sure how I should appear to her. I'm thinking I'll either turn up as a bull, or as a swan. What do you reckon?

Passionately yours,
Jupiter

Dear Jupiter,

Thank you for your letter. You do have a very interesting problem there, and there are several things I'd like to say to you.
On the one hand, have you ever considered why you think the girls will be attracted to you if you turn up as an animal? Perhaps you need to consult a psychiatrist.
On the other hand, what girl WOULDN'T be turned on by a guy who could turn into a bull? Think about those horns! And did I ever tell you about Pasiphae and her lover? Whew - b-a-b-y! Talk about Animal House!
And on the other hand (yes, I have three hands), I say turn up to her as a swan. Definitely. Swans are so in nowadays, and all the girls love it. Plus, think of that hot feather-on-skin action! Yeah, baby, yeah!

Yours seriously,
Dr Ovid.

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Dear Dr Ovid,

What's the best way to get a girl to have sex with you? Should you rush upon her in the middle of a field, or should you turn her into a tree until she agrees to?

Yours ponderfully,
Apollo

Dear Apollo,

Good question. I say, a little from column A, and a little from column B.

Thanks for writing in.
Dr Ovid.

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Dear Dr Ovid,

And while we're on the subject, there's another chick I know. I reckon I should turn up to her as a shower of gold. She's really going to get turned on by that.
Am I right or am I right?*

*And remember, kiddo, I am the father of all the Gods, so I AM right.
Rightfully,
Jupiter.

Dear Jupiter,

Thanks for writing in again. You're so right! Those chicks dig cash! I knew another God - a minor NYC deity - who turned up at the house of the girl he loved as a gigantic zirconium diamond, and they got married, just like that! Only, the marriage didn't last, because he eventually turned into bounced cheque, and that would never have lasted.

Obsequiously yours,
Dr Ovid.

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Dear Dr Ovid,

That husband of mine! I never know where he is! Day and night, he's chasing after girls! And he just insists on turning up at their houses as a bull or a swan, I'll never know why! And then when I turn those bitches into things like pretty little fountains or useful pieces of cutlery he gets all upset and cries and asks me why did you have to do that woman? I ask you! And no thanks do I get! I make sure he is fed and clothed and he barely ever has the decency to give me satisfaction! It's gotten so bad that we only go to bed once every day! I am sooooooooo angry with him right now!

Angrily yours,
Juno

Dear Juno,

I can see your marriage is going through a rough patch at the moment. Have you considered seeing a marriage counsellor? You really need to talk your problems over with your husband. Remember, a successful marriage requires work!
Also, you are going to have to start setting boundaries. Perhaps you two could sit down and draw up a timetable for the day, setting aside four hours every day for the marriage.
It is a good thing you came to me for help. You could have just saved your relationship. Remember: today is the first day for the rest of your eternal life!

Yours pithily,
Dr Ovid.

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Dear Dr Ovid,

I am one hot babe! I am so hot and sexy that I can't bear to think of anybody else coming near me! Ew! Like, there was this one chick? I think her name was Echo or something? And (naturally) she thought I was really beautiful ('cos I am) and she came up to me, and she's all, like, 'Narcissus, you're so great! Let's have sex!'
Ugly bitch. I got rid of her. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I'll just sit here and look at my reflection for the next billion years.

Yours beautifully,
Narcissus.

PS You're ugly, man! Get out of my reflection!

Dear Narcissus,

Thank you for your thoughtful letter. And congratulations! Self-love is so twenty-first century, and it's not even the first century at the moment! You're, like, two thousand years ahead of your time!
Perhaps you could write about yourself in a memoir? I'm telling you, N, it may not sell now, but in two thousand years time, it'll be selling like hot cakes!

Uglily yours,
Dr Ovid.

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Dear Dr Ovid,

You know, I've been thinking, this habit we Gods have of rushing up to women in the middle of the field and having sex with them, maybe it's an archaic relic of an ancient, barbarous age when a privileged minority ruled over the oppressed masses? I mean, okay, sure - we are living in an ancient and barbarous age when a privileged minority rules over the oppressed masses, but don't you think we should treat women with a bit more respect?

Yours thoughtfully,
Bacchus.

Dear Bacchus,

Lay off that wine, man! It makes you say some really weird things! Stick to the waccy-baccy, I say; it never did the muses any harm.
Plus, you want to be careful with those women. Those women are evil, Bacchus, old boy. Did I ever tell you about Medea? Whew! WHAT. A. BEYATCH!

Yours dismissively,
Dr Ovid.

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Dear Dr Ovid,

One day my husband went outside to have a walk and he walked back in and she was my wife! What a to-do!

Mrs Tiresias (I think).

Dear Mrs Tiresias,

Thank you for your nice letter. Marriage and sex-changes are indeed a touchy subject nowadays, aren't they? It raises some interesting dilemmas. If your husband turns into a woman, does she become your wife? Or does she stay your husband? And if so, what does that make you? Also, are you obliged to go for a walk and turn into the husband of your wife (who used to be your husband, when you were a wife)? Or can you really be husband and husband or wife and wife (instead of husband and wife)? Just thinking about it makes my head spin. I don't know, it all depends, really, on how strongly you feel about marriage. Are you religious? Perhaps you could consider a civil union instead?

Confusedly yours,
Dr Ovid.

Dear Dr Ovid,

It's alright. She just walked out the door and turned back into my husband. Phew. (Though I'm a little bit worried that he might do it all over again tomorrow ...)

Mrs Tiresias.

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Dear Dr Ovid,

Me and my wife Philemon have lived here for all our life. All our life, young man. Yes. And we've never wanted for anything! No. We haven't been rich, but we've made do. For instance, in the winter months, a rudimentary gruel can be made from the dag from a sheep's tail and yellow snow. Yes. Oh, you may turn your nose up at it, young man, but it was considered quite the thing in its day. And Philemon's teeth may have dropped out thirty years ago, but in her day, she was considered quite the looker! So don't you turn up your nose! Yes. Then one morning we woke up and found that we had turned into trees. Imagine that. Yes!

Baucis.

Dear Mr Baucis,

What an uplifting story, old man.

Dr Ovid.

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Dear Dr Ovid,

Hast du die zeit?

Wotan.

Dear Wotan,

What crazy whacked out tongue of Indo-European derivation are you talking? Take my advice and drop it, you barbarian! Learn to speak a proper civilized tongue, like Latin, or at least Ancient Greek. Those barbarian Germanic languages will never catch on, let me tell you.

Aggrievedly yours,
Dr Ovid.

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Dear Dr Ovid,

Should I eat my own children?

Ravenously yours,
Kronos.

Dear Kronos,

Only if you use dental floss.

Dr Ovid.