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Q: Dear Dr Neferbath, I'm an intrepid explorer, who has faced without flinching ravening hordes of screaming horsemen, rabid rampaging polar bears, any number of tax collectors and the like. However, I just can't seem to deal with water. You know, drinking water in the wrong clime. You know, the trots. Montezuma's Revenge. Any suggestions? ~~ In distress, Trottin' Trotsky.
A: The kindly Doctor Neferbath suggests that you do as he does, and merely drink whiskey. That will kill any of those unpleasant explorers of your lower GI tract. There's a reason we early Egyptians drank lots of beer, watered down as it might have oftimes been.
However, the Doctor recognizes there are times when you need to do H2O, not ethanol. He finds himself purchasing those things known as "hydration systems" which appear merely to be aqueous solutions with a few electrolytes and a rare few molecules of flavor, but most fortitiously and perhaps serendipitiously, without the over-adventurous explorative intestinal flora and fauna.
However, it appears you have already been got by the trots. The good Doctor suggests you just, ah, let it play through. Somewhere else, of course, as he makes enough messes of his own.
Q: Oh Doctor? My problem is a strange one. I'd like to go adventuring, but unfortunately I am terrified of stepping out my front door. Any suggestions? ~~ Sadie Homebody
A: Dr. Neferbath studies the agoraphobic situation, and recommends that you step out the back door. Ah, no?
For a small fee, Dr. Neferbath is willing to hire Trottin' Trotsky's ravening hordes of screaming horsemen to invade and break down your back door, and he pretty much guarantees that this will convince you to exit rapidly out the front!
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