Got a problem? Can't pick up a wench? Don't know how to eat a haunch of wild venison in public? Perhaps you've forgotten the formal way to address a reigning tyrant, or need to know a quick way to remove beer stains from your shoes? Got a big date on the weekend and worrying about whether to bring flowers or a tankard of ale? Throwing a party and need to know the best way to get it off to a cracking good start? Moat running dry? Dungeon not as dark as you'd like? Are you a knight whose armor needs shining? Or a damsel in distress? If so, you need to ASK GRIFT.

Grift knows almost everything. And if he doesn't know it, he'll make it up. If he was a woman he'd be an old wife. If he was a man...hang on a second he is a man. Well, you get the idea. Grift knows things you don't. To benefit from his sage advice, please click the button below and state the nature of your problem. (Anything containing the words "Medieval" or "damsel" is guaranteed to catch his eye!)



Dear Grift,
Help me! All the fine young knights are asking for the key to my chastity belt and my father has the only key! How do I steal it from him? -- Damsel in This Dress

Dear Damsel in This Dress,
Oh, lassie. Let me tell you this now: Under no circumstances must ye approach your father while he's sleeping! That would only court trouble of the worst kind. No, lass. As hard as this sounds you him of the key in broad daylight. This can be easily done as follows. Most dads are darn smitten with one of the three following women: Lonnie Anderson, Kathie Lee Gifford or Mary Tyler Moore. Now, all you have to do is find a TV program with one of them in, wait until that glazed look appears over dad's eye (a six pack of Budweiser will speed this process) and then swoop in for the big snatch. Shout loudly, "Dad! Ferret up your pants!" and while he's busy slapping his thighs and protecting his tackle, you move in with the industrial strength wire cutters. Nuff said. -- Grift

Dear Grift,
I was just wondering, I just happen to have five bunions on my left foot, and the misses and I just can't seem to get it right. What am I doing wrong? Please help, the misses really wants a little 'un running around and mucking the place up. -- In A Slump In Spokane

Dear In A Slump In Spokane,
Ye mustn't try to service your wench in such an emotional state. A professional must be called in! Dr. Scholl should be consulted! Alas, sometimes what looks to be a fair-sized bunion is nothing more than a wee blister filled with pus. Ask your good wench to lance it for ya! Nothing like the sight of pus spurting from a blister to get the juices flowing. -- Grift

Dear Grift,
I weigh 330 pounds and my boyfriend only weighs 160 pounds. But he insists that I sit on his knee. He thinks its cute and I think it makes him feel manly. But afterwards, he has difficulty walking and doing daily activities. It takes a couple of hours to get back to normal. How can I get around this without hurting his feelings as I really care for him and his ego. -- Luscious Lady

Dear Luscious Lady,
Under no circumstances must ye go on a diet! <shudder> Perish the thought of all that wenchliness draining away to nothing! A man needs a good handful just about everywhere, and it sounds as if you've got it! Well, it's obvious to me that your young man needs just one thing: support hose. Yes, I know, he'll fight you at first. But after the first few weeks you'll find he'll begin to enjoy wearing that tight, constricting nylon! I did! -- Grift

Dear Grift,
I'm a bewildered Knight of 18 years on the Lord's glorious creation. I have been courting the beautiful maiden Lady Amanda for the last year and she has recently been enchanted by the evil demon "Luther College". She thinks that we must break our bond as she prepares for her journey to the land of college. I believe that chivalry is not yet dead and have done all in my power to change her mind and destroy this awful demon. Please, I beg of you, give unto me a weapon to combat this awful demon with. My sword will be to your legience forever. -- Lost Love

Dear Lost Love,
The wench in question must be told in no uncertain terms that you're the boss and what you say goes! When said wench throws you out on your goodly butt for acting like a first class turnip-head, be sure to cry out loudly to attract the sympathy of any other wenches who might happen to be in the vicinity! Remember: just because they leave doesn't mean you have to grieve! -- Grift

Dear Grift,
How does one go about meeting a fair damsel who lives on the other side of the world? (or at least a couple of states away?). -- Good Edward

Dear Good Edward,
Under no circumstances must ye cross the country in search of a wench! They're feckless beings, wenches! And not worth the gas money! What ye must do is get the wench to come to you! This can be managed by one small feat: the stupendous lie! Tell them that you are a fabulously rich international arms dealer and also a known felon, and can not cross state lines for fear of being picked up by the Feds! The lure of money and intrigue should do it. -- Grift

Dear Grift,

Just how do you eat a haunch of venison in public? -- Meat Man

Dear Meat Man,
First of all, I think it's important to ensure the creature in question is dead. Wild stag can squeal like pigs when their butts are bitten (trust me on this one--I've tried it!). Once you've ensured the meat is dead, I'd dive straight in. Anything less than complete and utter piggery (grease on your chops, bloody juices running down your fingers, threads of meat dangling between your teeth) would be an insult to your host. -- Grift


Dear Grift,
If one were seated at the high table to the right of a ruling monarch and, having eaten a less than fresh haunch of venison, one becomes ill in the lap of said monarch, what is the best way to excuse oneself gracefully. An answer that minimized the chance of beheading would be nice. -- Winsome Loosum

Dear Winsome Loosum,
In the circles that count this is known as "doing the Bush." Of course, if you are overcome with a sudden urge to lose your vitals whilst dining with the high and mighty there are certain steps you must immediately take. First of all, under no circumstances hold it in. That would only cause grievous medical problems down the road, plus it is your duty as a guest to let your hosts know that what they are serving is rancid. Anything less than complete and utter regurgitation would be impolite. Now, if a head of state or reigning monarch happen to be in your line of outtage, this, while being unfortunate, does not necessarily mean that you will be beheaded or sent to the tower or anything else horrible like that. From personal experience, I have found that a simple warning such as "Hey, mate, wet crunchies coming your way," fulfills all your social obligations. And yes, it is considered polite to offer to pat dry the person later. -- Grift

Dear Grift,
My wife has stains on her hands. She's practically washed her hands to the bone and they won't come off. She even used SOAP! Please help! It's driving her mad. --MacB

Dear MacB,
Sadly, your problem is all too common these days, what with everyone wanting to be king, wear a kilt and party with cauldron-dancing hags. My advice may seem a little harsh at first, but in the long run it's all for the best: rid yourself of this woman. She will only bring you to ruin in the end. -- Grift

Dear Grift,
I've been havin' a little trouble with the ladies lately. I've had my share of rollickin', but I can't seem to get any wenches to come around anymore. What should I do? -- Wenchless Wonder

Dear Wenchless Wonder,
'Tis indeed a knotty problem you have there, young knight! I'm with you all the way on this one: who wants to sit around and wait for a rollickin'? Having mulled over your problem for several days now, I feel I have finally come up with a solution. What you need to do is invest in some apparatus. Yes, a long thin stick with a feather on the end (for a small fee I would be willing to pass along my own blueprints). Simply douse the feathered end in two day old pig lard (the world's most potent aphrodisiac) sit at a goodly distance from your desired wench, and when she isn't looking, dab a little on her left kneecap. (I didn't say this was going to be easy, did I?). Wait two minutes for the pig lard to do its job, then go up and introduce yourself. If she isn't flinging her arms around you and calling you "Big Stud" before the night is through them I'm a Turkish harem dancer! -- Grift

Dear Grift,
I've been having damson trouble. I just can't get enough of the plump, purple fruit. Is
this unusual for a man my age? I'm 27. -- Keith from Kentucky

Dear Keith from Kentucky,
This damson thing is just a stage you're passing through. Soon you will find yourself
moving from the succulent fruits back to the hard crunchy ones. In the meantime, always
squeeze before buying and whenever possible try not to eat them alone. Remember: the
only fruits suitable for solo consumption are cranberries. -- Grift

Dear Grift,
I'm having problems with my boyfriend. He's just not interested in the same things I am.
I want to snuggle down of an evening and watch videos. He just wants to sit at the kitchen
table and do needlepoint. I just don't know what to do anymore. -- Anguished in Arkansas

Dear Anguished in Arkansas,
Needlepoint! He couldn't come round here and put a trim on my doublet, could he?
A good male needlepointer is murder to find these days. Personal needs aside, my
suggestion to you would be to combine both your interests. There are many videos
currently available that are not only jolly good films, but also contain invaluable advice
on sewing: Judge Thread, Silence Of The Pins, Sewgirls (for advanced needlepointers
only) and The Stitches Of Eastwick. Any of these will provide hours of enjoyment and
useful instruction. -- Grift

Dear Grift,
I have a big date coming up on Friday night. I've told the girl in question I will cook her
dinner. What dish would impress her the most? -- Nervous Chef

Dear Nervous Chef,
Nothing impresses a wench more than a big steaming mess o'grits. Simply brown some
grits, make a mess, boil for seventeen hours and then turn whatever's left in the pan out
onto a serving platter. Remember: season only lightly. Too much spice in the mess and
on-stays her dress! -- Grift