Dear Mr Godfrey, My husband has rather stupidly brought home a real Christmas tree, that is too big to fit in the living room. What do you suggest we do?   Mrs Lumberjack, Penge My Sister Dolly says: I sympathise with your problem. I remember the year when the vicar had a similarly huge erection in the vestry, and it looked so tacky when the verger wrapped lights around it. I suggest getting hold of your husband's chopper and having it off... About three feet lopped off the top of the tree should suffice.

Dear Mr Godfrey, I understand your sister is a whizz in the kitchen. Please could you tell me the secret of her mince pies. Delia Smith, Norwich		My Sister Dolly says: Unfortunately my brother is the mincey one in our family. I usually nip down to Asda on Xmas Eve, throw away the box and the suckers don't know the difference.
Dear Mr Godfrey, Are you appearing in panto this year?   Widow Twankey, Fairy Land		My Sister Dolly says: My brother and I were booked to play rear and front respectively of Daisy the Cow in 'Ulysses: a panto reworking of the James Joyce classic', at the Amersham Chiropody Clinic. Sadly, due to an artistic dispute with Wayne Sleep, our parts have now gone to the Chuckle Brothers.
Dear Mr Godfrey, Can you recommend anything for this terrible nasal allergy I seem to pick up this time each year?   Rudolph, Lapland		My Sister Dolly says: Oh stay off the cheap plonk at the office party, you p*** artist! [Ooh Mr Hodges, what are you doing on the photocopier? - hic!]
Dear Mr Godfrey, This year, my business went bankrupt; my wife left me for my best friend; the rest of my family were killed in a freak macrame accident (I am still having aversion therapy with string); I turned to alcohol, drugs and lederhosen for comfort; and as if that weren't enough, I find myself quite liking Westlife. Now here I crouch, under the arches in my cardboard box, wondering what is the real spirit of Christmas?   In desperation, Bill Gates, Beneath Bow Flyover		My Sister Dolly says: Well, mine's a large vodka. Pull yourself together you sad git.   And on that Cheery Festive note: a Merry Christmas one and all! [Yes, you can be excused now dear brother. Just wash your hands before stuffing the turkey: we don't want a repeat of last year...]