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The collected opinions of an august and aristocratic personage who, despite her body having succumbed to the ravages of time, yet retains the keen intellect, mordant wit and utter want of tact for which she was so universally lauded in her younger days. Being of a generation unequal to the mysterious demands of the computing device, Lady Bracknell relies on the good offices of her Editor for assistance with the technological aspects of her journal.

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Location: Bracknell Towers

Sunday, October 21, 2007

I've been to a marvellous party!

It has been some years since Lady Bracknell has been sufficiently robust of constitution to devote her Saturday evenings to the popular pursuit of "party-going", or, indeed, sufficiently tolerant of inane conversation to wish to do so.

Nevertheless, she has nothing - in principle, at least - against persons who choose to invite friends to visit them, and who then ply said friends with alcohol lest the lack of such artificial stimulants should result in uncomfortable longueurs in the social interaction between them.

However, Lady Bracknell's tolerance becomes more than somewhat strained when the hosts - apparently having imbibed rather freely themselves - feel the need to shout their appreciation up the street behind their departing guests at 4.15 in the morning.


Blogger Jess said...

If it's any consolation, at least the man who didn't seem to know any other swearwords apart from the f-one-- in fact it seemed to make up his entire vocabulary--ended up outside my house at 3:00 am instead. Though this was a few weeks ago.

We've got a copy of Roger's Profanisaurus somewhere around here, now I think of it. I should've got it out that night to teach the twunt a few new ones.

1:28 pm  

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