27 May 2005

A Polite Notice To Burglars

Well that's almost it. My working week is slipping to an and and my grand vacances are about to commence. Before we hit God's own Devon, there is the small matter of a wedding to attend - not my own I hasten to add...although I have attended several of those as well.
My best pal from grazed knee days is finally tying the knot and throwing quite an extravagant bash. Hangovers notwithstanding, we'll be heading west the next day to stay with our dear friends. Swimming, crabbing, and brisk walks along the beach beckon...I can't wait. The weather forecast isn't too clever though.
It occurs to me, that blogging the way I do, I could be giving information to the wrong sort of person - the criminal to be precise. Well, bad news hooded top trainer scum....the staff don't have the week off, and Mr Squibs the butler likes nothing more than torturing reprobates. He's something of a sadist...as is the second footman, whose name escapes me.
Forgive me if I don't communicate my inner most trivia for several days- I'll be too busy staring across the rainswept horizon, trying to entertain miserable infant and wife with my repertoire of impersonations of famous music hall artists of the nineteen twenties. Bon Vacances...or something.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

Ahem, you DO realise that this consitutes 'Ruffian goad-age'?

You cannot just deny someone a living for the sake of anecdotal comedy.

Pull yourself together man.

Mr Doo Goode.

8:07 PM  

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