Dear Sandy,
° I commend to the Secretary of War and to Alexander himself Guy de Maupassant’s little warstrategy Bed No. 29 (Le Lit 29). The lovely Irma, luxurious favourite of the handsome and dickeous Captain Epivent, singlehandedly defeats the Prussians after the general vamoosement of the French battalions.
° For she purposely and singlemindedly undertakes the valourous mission of infecting every last Prussian officer with syphilis!
° "You ((Captain Epivent)) . . . with your cross of honor! I deserve more merit than you, do you understand, more than you, for I have killed more Prussians than you!"
° Annie, get your gun!
° I commend to the Secretary of War and to Alexander himself Guy de Maupassant’s little warstrategy Bed No. 29 (Le Lit 29). The lovely Irma, luxurious favourite of the handsome and dickeous Captain Epivent, singlehandedly defeats the Prussians after the general vamoosement of the French battalions.
° For she purposely and singlemindedly undertakes the valourous mission of infecting every last Prussian officer with syphilis!
° "You ((Captain Epivent)) . . . with your cross of honor! I deserve more merit than you, do you understand, more than you, for I have killed more Prussians than you!"
° Annie, get your gun!
§
° Lovely dinner Wednesday, lovely wine, house resplendent. Good to see Julja and Kenton again. Sorry about your cold.
§
° Friday morning I awoke with a slight sensation of having swallowed a trot line.
° Friday noon I sensed a slight tumescence in the left tonsil.
° Christmas Eve I spent in silence--well, I yammered and yammered as if there were no tomorrow, for I could see I was fixing to lose my voice.
° Christmas Day, I drag myself from my bed of pain, play desultory bundleball with the Cat, set out the Bavarian ornaments in the Lalique, garnish the chandelier, vacuum--for the Cat too was sneezing, and I wondered a little if we weren’t both suffering from dustbunny dustmititis--, pause for 2.33 tablespoons of French Roast coffee with Maria cookies (the scum displayed the sacrum signum Tau), establish a blogsite for our friend the poet, make 30odd posts therein, eat honeyed toast and romano omelette, take siesta, de Maupassant myself for an hour, break open some gift chai (green tortoise, very soothing), then set about my day’s work of observing the progress of the Guadalupe candle.
° Hope Coz lit his in time.
§§§§§
° Count your blessings.
° For if I hadn’t taken your cold and thus aroused my immune system, I’d surely have taken Nathan’s flu Thursday.
° And if I’d died of it, your tax burden would’ve gone up by 1/300,000,000th next year.
° For our rulers are every bit as high maintenance as a prepox Irma parading her ermines through the capitol boulevard.
° Noel, Giac.
2 commenti:
Utterly off topic, this is so much bullshit.
Poor Uncle Flabby, he's run afoul of the PRA2004 (Parents' Relief Act of 2004), which designates all public spaces, especially libraries, as untended dropoff daycare centers. Worse than that, he's in violation of the Dr. Ruth Dictum, which states that only adult females less than 5 feet high or adult males in Santaland Elf suits may utter the compound word p-n-s'n'v-g-n-.
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