Hunk Unc

Hunk Unc: For convenience, I’ve taken to shitting in the shower and forcing it down the drain. I think my flatmates are on to me but I’m so embarrassed I don’t know how to come clean. What do I do???

Hunk Unc: I keep putting buttered sausages between my cheeks because it feels so good but I’ve started to notice I’m having more and more intolerance to dairy and my dad is a dairy farmer who always sends cheese down and I’d miss it a lot, I’m conflicted, should I stop?

This week, Hunk Unc is deeply concerned. Hunk Unc also has not got any sexy advice for whatever the hell this is, so instead, I am going to match you two deeply fucked up students together in Hunk Unc’s game of love. I’ll give you both advice, and maybe you can find each other in one of the many morally questionable places in this city (Red Square), lock eyes across a sticky dancefloor, and realise you’ve finally met someone who truly understands you. Do a switch. Fall in love. Move in together. Terrify a landlord.

My advice to you, Shitting-in-the-hower, is that you try buttering sausages between your cheeks for a week. Really engage the glutes. Squeeze with purpose. Think of it as unconventional activation work. And for Buttered-Sausages, take a break from that and start shitting in the shower. With your newly developing dairy intolerance, it’ll probably go down the drain better with your body finally rejecting all that lactose you’ve been spiritually and physically absorbing. Growth requires sacrifice. Love requires compromise. Plumbing requires resilience.

But in all seriousness, Buttered-Sausages, there is a very simple solution for you: Olivani Olive Oil Spread 500g ($6.09 at New World at the time of writing this, because Hunk Unc does his fiscal research). It’s plant-based. Clean. Lean. Mediterranean bulk. There you go, you no longer have to give up your true passion for your father’s proud dairy legacy. And maybe without slow-roasting your cheeks in butter every night, your body will find it easier to break down the cheese your dad sends you. Family first. Macros second. Butt health third.

As for you, Shitting-in-the-Shower, my solution to you is this: Drain-O. Simply stick some Drain-O down the pipes after your next performance. The smell will be gone and the drain will be squeaky clean, like a well-oiled barbell. Worried about the noise? Start singing in the shower. Project from the diaphragm like you’re hitting a PR. Worried about the smell? Light a candle. Two candles. Create ambience. Make it romantic. Worried about the flatmates? I’m going to tell you this gently: some people are meant to live alone. You are one of these people.

But beneath the butter and beneath the drain crimes, I see something beautiful. Two misunderstood titans of poor decision-making who simply haven’t found their spotter yet. You don’t need shame. You need each other. Imagine it: one flat, one shower, one shared understanding—olive oil spread on the counter, Drain-O under the sink, and aggressive plumbing maintenance as your love language.