College: 3 AM, 10 AM
Now: 10 PM, 6 AM
Yeehah! Ah reckon ahm as pleazed as punch.
Why, ifn its bin one time its bin a dozen where ah’ve gotten all hetted up fit to bust and had to relieve muh feelins’ by strangling’ a grizzlie with a rattlesnake. Why? For the simple ’nuff reason that many’s the time ah purposed to mosey down to the ginral store and fill up mah wagon with salt, sugar, and nucular power generation and then brought to mind that I had to set to makin’ the dadblame thing muhself.
This systemic discrimination against toffs, boulevardiers, trust fund boys, and other young men who are more ornamental than productive has roused a sleeping giant, viz, the Drones Club. We are taking to the streets to have a stiff word with the management of this bally concern. We will be heard or we will give them what-for, I dare say!
Right ho, then. Let all willing to take a stand in favor of spats, espeglierie and the culinary standards to which we have become accustomed take aforesaid stand. No gelato, no peas!
Progeny: Ooh! If I named my son Saxon, then I could call his dog, ‘hey, you dog of a Saxon!’
Progenitor: Or you could call your son Wirthla. ‘Come here, Wirthla’s dog!”
Progeny [giggling through the pain]: I don’t think you are OK, dad.
Mr. Wooster is notable for his eleemosynary impulse. He may also have felt that some recent service I had occasion to render on his behalf deserved some expression of thanks. In consequence Mr. Wooster has kindly agreed to donate his Rex Kwan-Do ensemble to the deserving poor.
His Majesty was in a rather pleasant mood this morning.
Snip. Snip. … Snip-snip.
Merry Christmas, what ho, what ho, what ho! (more…)
What with one thing and another I cannot say I have dipped much into either–the plots fail to grip, dash it, the Wooster taste literaire running rather more to clues and sprightly murders–but is the Book of Mormon really all that similar to the Lord of the Rings? Mine eyes goggle like billy-o. At 20-1 the idea is still a rank outsider.
Does this mean that Mormons really do worship a different Jesus? One’s bean is too full of airy nothings to tell. I asked Jeeves about it, but the fellow was rather shirty on the subject. Said that even a dashed tophole gentleman’s personal gentleman might cavil at explicating matters of philo-theological concern, or words to that effect.
But its not as dry as this.
