Tuesday, 10 February

Lazyfare:

You and your damned excuses! I once nearly bled to death from a fencing misfortune and still managed to fire off a few lines your way. I don’t care what Slipshod is recommending this week (he has exquisite taste in psychotropics, by the by), you should still be able to at least dictate a report on the weather in your parts. But your failure to write is behind us now. (At least it is until my next outburst when I bring up every breach of etiquette you ever dared enact -- no matter how slight.)

And speaking of breaching etiquette, what is this business with the ottomans? Didn’t we have them covered in plastic for just such an eventuality? (As I recall, Diffy Champion of the Purchasing Committee was worried about their “shamelessly erotic plumpness” when they first arrived from the shop.) In any event I prepared a paper on friend Chingwaller predicting just this sort of end. You might recall that I was sub-chairman of the Membership Committee at the time of his investiture. As part of our usual background check on prospective members, I interviewed a certain Mdm. N_____ , proprietress of a well-known Paris bordello. She confided to me (for a sum of course) that Chingwaller was a frequent visitor to her establishment. His particular kink was to pay for a woman, go to the door of her room and then asked to be “left alone with the furnishings...” The less said about that the better. In spite of this and other damning information he was still welcomed as a full member. I blame Stedgeness and his cabal for pushing the vote in Chingwaller’s favor. That bunch would, I swear it, let a sewer rat into our ranks if it could somehow afford the lifetime fee.

I was hunting the other day which led to some trouble as it seems I was at the shopping mall. Apparently there is a “no pets” policy which they used to roust me out along with my hounds. I tried to explain that the dogs weren’t pets at all but “working dogs.” When this didn’t work I made a “scene” with several mannequins paying the full price for my pique! This didn’t play well with management and they, smartly waiting until both of my barrels were empty, took me down with force. The usual payments were arranged and I, naturally, spent no time incarcerated (as those of our type shouldn’t). I don’t know what I expected to bag there in the first place. Where do I get these ideas? And why do my dogs go along with them?

Snooooze,

Van Snippy

Letter the Current