You'd be surprised to discover these types have as many fears, phobias, and genital warts as the rest of us. Hence the popularity of MIND BALM for VIPS written under my Uncle Norm pen-name.
Several days ago a Russian hacker cracked the VIP's password, and stole last week's Uncle Norm letters. (I'm now told ''Mummy'' isn't very secure. Who'd have thought?)
I'm sure we were hacked by order of RasPutin, and even now, he's sharing The Uncle Norm Secrets with Julian Assange and his conspiracy dweebs at WikiLeaks. These busy-bodies will distort the juicier bits, and shop them to Fake News sites like The Times and The Washington Post.
Therefore I've taken the bull by the tail - the tiger by the horns - and presented the stolen VIP letters to Wit's End, which I know will treat them with scrupulous accuracy, and fix the spelling.
Dear Uncle Norm,
I make a damn fine pizza by pouring one 400g tin of spaghetti over a pre-made base I get from the Four Square shop. Someone recently put my Casa Bill Pizza up on Facebook, and to my amazement, this lovely dish has received nothing but ridicule. It even made the American TV networks. The talk show guy, Jimmy Kimmel, bagged my pizza, saying: ''That is so offensive, it's an act of war.'' How should I deal with this? - Bill English.
Dear Bill,
Your mistake is common to beginners. Go to your rubbish bin and check the old cans. I suspect you've used Heinz spaghetti, which is quite wrong for a gourmet pizza. I use Wattie's, and the result is my drooling friends say: ''Norm, this redefines Italian!'' I suggest that on special occasions - perhaps Government House cocktails, or the grand opening of a neighbour's sheep dip - you garnish this pizza with tasty extras.
Here again, sophisticates may count on help from the folk at Wattie's. Their chefs have invented a can of spag which also includes yummy little sausages. Tres exotique!
Dear Uncle Norm,
I'm being trolled on Twitter because during the past three years I've sacked nine caddies. People just don't get it. I'm young, for God's sake. Why should I have to put up with some grumpy old codger who's nearly 30, who can't text, and scowls each time I miss a putt? Why are caddies such awful old sourpusses? - Lydia Ko.
Dear Lydia,
I know exactly who you are, you wee scamp! The sourpuss caddy thing is cultural. If you golf in Aberdeen, your caddy will be some wizened Scot with a Masters degree in sarcasm. Toffier clubs in the US learned from this, and once insisted on black folk in overalls, because their disapproval was more silent.
My overseas friends claim you can make a caddy smile if you tip them. I know this surprises and is against all Kiwi ethics, but next time you win a million, try slipping your geezer a fiver.
Dear Uncle Norm,
I have a business problem. My job is buying cheap Chinese rubbish, stamping it with my glamorous name, and flogging it to halfwit poseurs at 20 times the price. The issue is my dipstick father. His name is almost as famous as mine, and he is stuffing up the brand by posting silly tweets, and telling the most amazing porkies. (Also, Dad's hairdo is humiliating). - Ivanka Trump.
Dear Ivanka,
You could rub him out with the new Elizabeth Arden vanishing cream? No, seriously, Gordon Gekko gave us excellent business advice with his ''Greed is Good'' slogan. You've both rolled up your sleeves, and worked hard at this. Well done! Change nothing.
Everyone has bad hair days. He's your Dad - get over it.
Dear Uncle Norm,
I'm contracted to write a cookbook titled Chic Kiwi Pizza. Frankly it's become a struggle. We've discovered Muttonbird Marinara, Hogget Neapolitan, and Possum Pepperoni, but I'm desperately short of other classy stuff. Do you know a pizza chef who can help? - Annabel Langbein.
Dear Annabel,
Boy, have you come to the right place for chic! We have a Dipton gourmet - Bill English - who's now up with the pizza play. (I've helped him a little). But pardon me if I first check your credentials. You do understand the difference between Heinz and Wattie's?
-John Lapsley is an Arrowtown writer.
