Dear Barnaby,

My wife has a vibrator the size of a large cucumber. The dirty bitch uses it while Im lying beside her when she thinks Im asleep. Dont you think this is disrespectful and apart from anything else the engine on it keeps me awake at night. I robbed the batteries but last night she was at it again. I'm at my wits end.

My next door neighbour is married to what I expect you would describe as a so called Ballsman. He hits her, drinks like a fish and virtually ignores his children, who appear sullen and withdrawn. What a fine pair you would make.

Dear Barnaby,

I recently read your book and I would like to ask you this question. Are you completely fucking mad? Even if you don't mean it you simply cant write this kind of neandertal crap. The whole book is just a misogynistic rant by an obviously deranged prick. I've circulated this to all my network of friends interested in women's issues so prepare for a load of shit coming your way, you fucking twat.

Dear Barnaby,

Hey Ive got a letter for you asshole. I found out my husband was fucking his secretary. I made a big play for his business partner and now we live together and Im expecting his baby. How do you like them apples you big wankpot

My husband sniggers over your website like a kid reading a dirty magazine. He says it's not all smut, there's sport and current affairs and such. From what I've seen it's typical schoolboy humour aimed at the sort of men who don't have a serious thought in their head, like my husband.

Dear Barnaby,

I found the final chapter in the book (So how was it for you) utterly disgusting and derogatory to women. How can you encourage men to behave like that. Wouldn't you be better employed writing advice on how men can be tender and loving in the bedroom?