We Will Fix You

Our fixee loves to draw, but, tired of waiting for the muses to strike, they turn to us for help. To fix it, if you will. To fix them, if you’ll permit me to be so bold. Speaking of muses, have you seen Xanadu? Demented film. A word of warning: the final fix in this episode is especially spicy, so maybe don’t listen to it when the kids are around or if you suspect you’re under surveillance by the po-po or similar.

We’re back, and we’re hear to help! This time, with our fixee wants help to lose weight without stripping all of the joy from their life. Can we help? Well, it’s been a while, but we’re oiled up and we’re fixing to fix.

We’re back.

This week’s fixee has taken upon themselves the thankless task of caring for and aiming to improve the lot of a sexless chap from the internet. That’s right, it’s Incel Great Expectations here at We Will Fix You, with Incel Pip, our good-hearted fixee as Old Joe, and here’s us as Magwitch, just trying our best near some sheep.

This week’s (year’s?) fixee has demanded we shake off the dust, cram our plague masks with posies and set off into the world in search of fixes. The problem? They fancy their best friend’s ex. The solution? US.

It’s a tale as old as time - you’re doing a work because capitalism demands you sell your dignity at the market rate, when your boss starts to micromanage everything you do. Of course you’d turn to us. Because we’ll fix it. And we’ve got a chart!

It happens to us all - a slip of the pen or keyboard, and quite the wrong message is conveyed. In the case of this week’s fixee, they are locking themselves away to meditate, only to later say it was something… quite different. Can we help? Oh, but we’ve got three robust and sinewy fixes waiting to go.

Look. You don’t like it, we don’t like it, but sometimes people need help with other people and their inability to pee correctly. Just… in the right place. At all. The big porcelain bit. So yeah, here we are. Helping. With all the pee.

When we were young, we were taught that it would be the most important thing in the world to have clear, neat handwriting as we would be doing so much of that in our important adult jobs. Well now we have those and it turns out the only writing we do is cryptic graffiti about wasps on the toilet walls. But I digress, this week’s questioner wants to return to their writing stamina of old. Can we, even in these technological times, return them to the strength of the scriveners of old? You’d better fucking believe it, treacle.

This week’s listener doesn’t know when to stop clicking on Twitter’s recommended accounts, and through plenty of fault of their own is now in a race against Twitter’s algorithm and their own capacity for “erotic joy”. The Algorithm may destroy their horn, and they have turned to us, in the dying days of 2019, for help.

This week’s listener knows that particularly modern malaise that comes from having someone confuse their email address for your own. The gift cards, summonses and death threats meant for a total stranger are piling up and so they turn to us for help. And help we shall!

But every single time, every single person is going to ask them, so teeth-achingly politely, for what they’re proposing as an alternative that one of two things will happen.

Our listener is concerned about their nephew, who has recently developed a fascination with the ceaseless rows of teeth found in beloved mascot Sonic The Hedgehog. They would like us to do something about this, and we’ve come at this one from all angles, medical, spiritual, doing nothing - all bases are covered.

This week’s questioner has only gone and got themselves a bona fide nemesis - truly the dream of the dramatically-inclined podcast intro text writer. And yet, this nemesis is shit. Just really not up to the task. What are some low-key revenge-based activities one can engage in when your nemesis isn’t really up to snuff?

Where does the time go? It seems like only moments ago that we were declaring ourselves “on sabbatical” and walking into that suspiciously large gap in the trunk of that lightning-blasted tree, and now here we are, back, seemingly refreshed, and with absolutely no knowledge of the intervening months. Our questioner suffers from this too, though it seems unlikely that they too were found wandering, naked and alone in that fog bank. No, they just find that no matter what, they don’t seem to have as much time as they used to. Can we fix that? Dear listener, you’d better fucking believe that we can.

This week’s questioner hates the rash of “humourous” signs that accompany British protest culture, and they insist that we do something about it. And while we don’t make the laws - yet - there are some things we can offer to help get this infestation under control. And with 100 episodes under our belts, the powers that be have given us a few months, a handful of precious days to slip back into the forest to rejuvinate ourselves. We’ll see you soon, and keep sending those problems for us to fix.

A very special episode this week, as we fix 99 of your niggling problems LIVE, unrehearsed, rapid-fire, except when we go on a long digression about bums or something, with no notes or nothing, with too much to drink, with categorically the wrong equipment to attempt this, with severe technical issues, and more. Ladies. Gentlemen. May we present: 99 Problems. Amazingly it gets to about 25 minutes in before it all breaks down completely. At one point, there was a small fire and we styled it the fuck out, because we’re professionals. Live recording is hard at the best of times, let alone when you’re shitfaced in three different cities. As a result you may hear a loud bird, the odd bump, bang, scream, descent into madness, and, of course, the po-po.

This week’s questioner has taken on a job that perhaps they should not. It’s giving them the right proper fear - the wobbles, the yips, all that bad stuff. It might look like there’s no way out, but when have we ever let you down?

Our listeners, you may surmise, can be delicate. Oh, they put on a brave face, but they get in a tizzy over all sorts. This week’s wants to navigate the tricky and previously unknown etiquette of how to pronounce “pho”. Is it “fuh”, “fur”, or “foe“? Whatever it is, if it’s between our tender listeners and a steaming bowl of soup you’d better believe we’re on the fucking case.

Our questioner, one of the rats fleeing a sinking ship, would like to do something nice for their boss before they leave this job - they’d like to make sure their boss lands on their feet with a nice new job somewhere else. How are they - are we - to achieve this? Let’s find out, together.