Announcement

Anybody with the resources/energy/ideas/enthusiasm to continue this blog is more than welcome to contribute. Just drop in a mail. And oh,
Hurriedly, dear Watson.

Long live the Queen

This was the time when America was trying to prove to England how much better the suave, democratic Yankees were than the snobbish, old queen's, well - snobs. So the Americans challenged the English to an inventing contest - "In one month's time, come up with the best invention you can, you pajamas!"
"Pyjamas," corrected the British, and got down to work.

After one month of sleepless nights, painstaking days, and cliched transferred epithets, the British came up with a wondrous invention - a motorbike (don't you challenge me with facts, you b*tch, it's MY blog). You'd have expected them to be ecstatic, jubilant, or at the very least, happy.

"Why aren't you pleased with yourself, Sir?" asked one inquisitive press reporter, microphone in hand.
"It's no use. We'll never win," said the honourable gentleman
"Why! Do you really think the Americans can beat our invention?"
"Hell yeah! They've Edison"

Come Over to the Dark Side

It was a time of political turmoil in the Civilized Civilized East. The king had passed away, alas, without an heir. Many considered themselves the rightful successors to the throne and expressed so in public.

The Wild Wild West thought it a great time to launch an attack, and wrest power from the Eastern losers. They summoned the armies of their allies - The Galaxy Far Far Away, and attacked.

In the East a hero emerged - Luke, predictably, a biker. ("I fear no beast nor any man. The force is with me.") He unified the armies of the East and fought valiantly. The West, in a bid to not be outdone, put up a radical leader of their own - a prostitute ("Luke, I'm your mommy")

"So here we are at the scene of the battle reporting live. The East charges ahead full force with the biker leader, and the
whore leads the west on"

The Naming of the Shrew

He was a mighty man, and he lived in a mighty house (sixth cousin of Mighty Mouse, twice separated). He earned himself much respect in the corporate world, especially amongst left-handed corkscrew vendors - for that is what he sold - left-handed corkscrews.

The ruthless Duke of Avon was much impressed when he heard about the success of our protagonist (Note how carefully the mention of the name was avoided) and beckoned on him to dine with his family.

The Duchess was a shrewd lady, and lived up to Kipling's the f of the s is more d than the m.
On the night of the dinner, she was in a particularly brutal mood, "Just so that this long blog post does not go without a single dialogue, I'm going to ask you your name"

"Earl E. Davy de Sonne"



PS: "...but my friends call me Eckles"