It is a sad state of affairs nowadays that a modern gentleman is pretty much expected to seek employment, as unless you are one of those nasty commercial types in the city, one doesn't have a fortune to lean upon, or a man of business to conduct one's affairs.
To whit - I have resorted of late to working some 12 hours a day to catch up from my adventure in the Great South seas, and have been depriving you, dear reader, with my little thoughts.
The days draw out, even though snow lies chill upon nature's green shores. I shall be with you soon. Needless to say - I have much to say, and even more to expose and complain about.
I will say I was cheered to note that France applied to subject itself to Pax Brittanica in the 1950s. Incredulous, yet in so many ways - right. However, my sceptical eye sniffed spin from Nanny's office. It was timed just as Gordo the Broon waxed lyrical about how proud we should all be to be British! Bit rich coming from him - he clearly fears the ides of West Lothian.
Patriotism is always the last resort of the scoundrel.
Oh and another of beauty from The Land of The Brave.
Apparently our pictish cousin's Nanny tells them how to Wash Their Hands too.
Polite doff of fez to Mr Eugenidies. Keep holding on to that rage, old boy!