Those among you who are still adrift on the sea of life - despite our resident Agony Aunt's best efforts to guide you to the shores of sanity - will be relieved to learn that the Moderatrix has once again opened the door of her basement boudoir to offer spiritual succour to the needy.

So, if you've ever wondered whether time is indeed an effect of gravity, or if the opposite sex can in fact be attracted by pizza and Grand Theft Auto or, critically, whether Europe's The Final Countdown goes "Da-da-da-da, da-da-da-da-daaaa..." or "Dah-duh-dahh-dumm dah-duh-dah-da-dumm...", then help is at hand.

Just post your personal angst as a comment to this piece, and the Moderatrix will tomorrow consider the most pressing. The usual caveats apply: No requests for sexual favours; no tiresome Windows versus Mac observations; and no "Where's the IT angle" quipperies. Remember: Don't mess with the Moderatrix. ®

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