Gaius Octavius

For the enquiring mind: 1. Lord Bertrand Russell. 2. George Bernard Shaw. 3. English? It is always so pleasing to find such great men in concurrence with my views. Thank you,

Don Giovanni: Must I tell you everything? Here in NYC, your problem is simply addressed. Have you ever heard of Grand Arsony? Take pics of your stuff for the insurance company. Get the good stuff out. Leave the carp you've always wanted to throw away in. Introduce a match into the business and fly away on the double. Will also manage the squirrel problem. Option 'B': Preliminaries same as above. Seal windows, doors, holes in the roof, etc. Suggest to favored chipmunks that flight is in order. Open all gas jets. Flee (on the triple) to a neighboring province with plenty of items to be 'tested'. Ex-Lax yourself on a lawn chair facing the soon to be former residence. You will soon see a blue flash of lightening reaching up to the Van Allen Belt; immediately thereafter a funnel of smoke will grace the picture and then one hellacious 'BOOOM'. Not only will this amend the foul odor and settle matters with the tree rats, but it also has the advantage of eliminating those nosy, pesky neighbors. What do you care? You don't own the teepeee! It's the landlord's problem. Don Tomasso

A cogent piece of work, Ursus. Could you please explain what you mean by 'demons' in you article?

My Lord of Putney! Have you been disencarcerated? Or has Peter of Perth posited electricity in his dank, dreary donjon? It iz ghud to see dat you ave not lost your capsicum coated ctenoid tortile tounge! Was the above rendition of events a true bill? If not please supply copious details. Your etc.,etc.,etc., Ian of Innisfree

Perscriptio in manibus tabellariorum est. The check is in the mail.

Just GREAT Viggen! In the recesses of my memory, there was a thread about SPQR and such. In my second hit, I came upon 'CPQR': Colonia Populusque Aquilea. Might help someone.

Only if I have a tribune adlected to my person. He will be known worldwide as the "Herald Tribune"!

My good man, what do you think the point is if not that?

So go to Wally World or Targ

My Illustrious Readers, permit me to present a baseball problem. Currently there are two lads in this game; one named Chone (pronounced as in Sean) Figgens. And the other named Ruby Seanez (proprietarilly pronounced cee-nez). If we do a little switcheroo, we will get Ruby Figgens (no problem). This leaves Chone Seanez for the umpires. Do you comprehend the ontological problem here? Is it Cone Shawnez? Shown Ceenez? Shawn Shawnez? Or what? My mission in life is to put an end to this balderdash. Children will raise statues of my humble self. Presidents will sit at my feets.

It has devolved to the PRESENCE to relate the sad intelligence that His Grace, The Lord of the Herbs, Pertinax, :notworthy: is presently situate in the donjon of the Highland Laird, Peter of Perth. It came about in this fashion: Whilst presiding at a Perfect Patented Pertimaxus party in a popular porter pleasure parlour in the Port of Perth in Perthshire, a Pictish piper was playing some moaning and groaning on his pipes in the pronaos. When His Grace :notworthy: had had his fill of the noise, he politely put a request to the Pictish piper: "Please play something resembling an English air or a pleasant polonaise." The polluted Pictish piper paid no attention to the humble prayer of the Patron of the Party :notworthy: and went about his now parlous piping. Upon Pertinax :notworthy: repeating his petition, the plastered piping pultroon continued his skirling at his palpable peril. Pertinax' :notworthy: next entry in the book of account, was to plant a punch on the piper's puker. The potted pultroon plunged to the portico pavement comatose. The now petrified and perplexed pub proprietor summoned the Perthshire constabulary. In all the confusion, His Grace :notworthy: plucked the purse of the Pictish piper. The Perth police dragooned our Hero :notworthy: off to the precincts of the Perthshire Provincial Peregrine Propraetor. This magistrate held a prolusion at which a proces-verbal was conducted. No consideration whatsoever was given to P's :notworthy: procere in the Brigantine Boondocks. Pertinax :notworthy: was denied bail and ordered to be held in the Pokey of Peter of Perth. There Our Hero :notworthy: languishes as your indubitable, indomitable, inebriated intelligencer scribbles.

No one challenged "Therefor"? "wasn't"? Two 'hads' in a row? Anyone for three? __________________________ In a serious vein, I am sure that Viggen's mis-steps are more the result of banging away at the keyboard than a lack of knowledge. I don't think that any author gets it right the first time around nor the fourth; that is why editors make a living. I believe that when an author reads his work, he sees what is in his mind and not what is on the page. (Take a peek at some of the critiques above.) Having had a German partner and a German girl friend, it was my privledge to learn English from them. (There is a bummer in this sentence.) Then, of course, there are the contributions of native English speakers hereabouts; yours truly, at the head of the list.