> ## Content Index > Fetch the complete content index at: https://www.theoxfordreview.com/llms.txt > Use this file to discover other available public pages before exploring further. # Mrs. Agony Replies - URL: https://www.theoxfordreview.com/mrs-agony-replies/ - Published: 2026-09-25T23:19:02.000Z - Updated: 2026-09-26T19:49:38.000Z - Description: Had my readers taken you purely at your word, everyone involved would be in agreement that he had pulled off the most impressive marital psyop of all times. Surely, my male readers would have been sending him fan fair and asking for his formula to success. - Author: Bella - Tags: Mrs. Agony, Advice Column, Satire, Authors, Book Club, Best-Selling Novel, Books, CHARACTER, creative writing, dramatic writing, News, Novella News, Novella, Novella Tricks & Tips, Podcaster, Publication, Query, Querying, Short Story, substack, UK, Writers, Writing, writing group, Writing Tips and Tricks, writing workshop 0:00 /0:05 1× Dear Jackass of All Trades (Your assumed alias, not my diagnosis) I regret to inform you—based entirely on your recollection—you were not married for twenty years; you were acquired. But, think of it this way, you are like a fine Aston Martin running on Domaine Leroy Musigny Grand Cru. Had my readers taken you entirely at your word, they would agree that your husband had pulled off the most impressive marital PSYOP of all times. I imagine several of my male readers would have written fan mail asking for operating instructions. But it wasn’t entirely true, was it? *I am something of a divining rod for truth. I fear my fiduciary duty is to my readers, rather than your preferred version of events.*It is therefore my unhappy duty to report that perhaps you haven’t been entirely forthright. I should also note that, before offering my opinion (not advice), I spent a considerable amount of time with you investigating these allegations. During one of our conversations, you reluctantly disclosed—what you described as—‘a small inconsequential fact’. You explained that your husband had not, in fact, simply avoided the barber. Something else entirely had happened. Of course, I already knew the answer, as your husband’s rebuttal was pulsing in my inbox. You said, and I quote: > ‘Well, yes, it is true.’ > ‘What is true, Mrs. Jackass of All Trades.’ > ‘It is true that I demanded he never return to that barber.’ You slumped and even lowered your head in shame. It was a curious detail to omit, but, after considerable psychological digging, you admitted to, ‘flying off the handle like a bat out of hell.’ An ambitious collusion of metaphors, but I gather you were rather cross. I asked you to expatiate, and you explained that, after a lavish shopping spree in preparation for your trip to Italy, you met up with him at the barber, to show off your wares. It was all smiles until you glanced up on the wall and saw the pearly whites, red lips and cascading chocolate hair of his former girlfriend—and hair model—Adriana. Her portrait loomed directly above your husband’s head, an unnerving effigy and reminder of his romantic history. Their history was never hidden. Moreover, by your own account, said husband cheerfully placed every available credit card to your disposal and dispensed with the barber’s services. You nevertheless ended up with a Queen Alexandra’s lot of Hermes bags, a weekend at The Connaught (Kon-naught) and a brand new Bentley. I will remind my readers: these were your words not his. As for the cooking, I am torn. Both sides admit to fault. You explained that, whilst in Milan, you ate fish, against his strenuous advice, and became so ill that, let’s just say he assumed duties not mentioned in the brochure. Then, a mere two months later, you both dined at celebrated restaurant which shall remain nameless, and you both contracted noroviruses. In fact, it was so serious that hundreds of diners became ill and the restaurant temporarily closed. Although ill himself, he once again resumed nursing duties. He does however admit to being rather bad at it. > In your words, ‘Do not ever let me eat out again.’ You may have been relying on the venerable British proverb whereby a wife may say something twelve times, but the husband only hears it when said by another man. Nevertheless, I cannot quite bring myself to condemn him for the one occasion which he listened. You must ask yourself: despite his selective hearing, is he really wrong in this particular instance? One must admit that it could be confusing: > ‘Listen to me. Wait, don’t listen to me.’ Without boring our readers with long drawn-out explanations, you addressed the gardener accusation. You admitted that after ordering a Blenheim level allotment of flowers and a £20,000 luxury Summerhouse (for American’s: a potting shed) you became bored with gardening and abandoned the project. On for home education, you declared the children’s primary teacher, ‘incompetent’, and you disenrolled the children. As for the housekeeper, you neglected to mention that he has employed a housekeeper six days a week for the last fifteen years. Naturally, you find the housekeeper ‘incompetent’ too. I could address the remaining charges, but I am afraid my next letter must be devoted to your husband. I however, found something interesting, in the hours of interrogation. The both of you are incredibly crazy (long pause) over each other. You want to be heard. He wants to avoid hearing. He wants you happy so that he can be happy. You would like the trash taken out on time, without the nudge. He would like to hire a persona binmen to avoid the rubbish. He works approximately eighty hours a week and you would like more engagement. But so does he. He is oblivious to needs without a fork in the eye meanwhile his faults rarely escape your attention. You both miss travelling together—haircuts permitting—and your children are now at university. He clearly adores you. Even if he has the emotional intelligence of a bison recently struck by a meteor. And you have begrudgingly admitted that you still find him incredibly funny and charming. In my opinion—again, not advice—the two of you need more time together. So, go have a laugh together before I give him a proper dressing down of his own. He must not mistake adjournment for acquittal. Particularly as I will not be kind. It is not really in my nature. Warmly Mrs. Agony To submit your disgruntled wife, husband or dating letters, please dm Mrs. Agony on Instagram at @theoxfordreview or email us at [info@theoxfordreview.com](mailto:info@theoxfordreview.com)