Previous | Next
It's Missionary Position day in Victoria and the banks are closed. Lady Juanita's daughter, Fellatio, wins a 'Miss Nice Norks' competition and another attempt at getting a Nigerian recipe looks doomed to failure.
My Dear Dr Patrick,
Thank you for your letter yesterday. I am so very fortunate that you are so understanding.
I has been an extremely trying few weeks, what with my throat and then Lord Vader's accident. We have been feeling just a little unlucky of late!
That is where your letter and the money deal shines out as a true bright spot amid all the horrible gloom. And the size of the amount of money is only just starting to sink in!
All that money must be worth a fortune.
Regrettably tomorrow is a public holiday in Victoria (Missionary Position Day) and the Western Union office will not be open. Not surprisingly Western Union sponsors the official entry to start the Progressive Copulation Ball at the World Congress Centre. There is a lot of competition to be that official.
I looked up and found out where it's head office is though. It is in Exhibition Street. That's fitting, don't you think?
I will go down there first thing on Tuesday.
I have done a Power of Attorney and will take it to our Solicitors Office on Tuesday to fax. Our daughter works there and will fax it for me. My fax at home is on a computer and I have no way of signing the documents sent. Our family solicitors, Dunn Son & Stone, are a very discrete and trustworthy firm. They are actually are a wholly-owned subsidiary of our bank. That must tell you something.
Our health has not been our only problem of late. Our daughter, Fellatio, has been a source of anguish to us both as well. She recently won a 'wet T-shirt' competition and while in some respects we are very proud of her, it is not really something a family of our station in society should be a party to. A 'Miss Nice Norks' title looks a little common on a curriculum vitae, don't you agree?
I just had a thought. Do you know what a 'wet T-shirt' competition is? It is where the women wear nothing but a t-shirt (and briefs, of course!) a bucket of water is thrown over them and a bunch of beer-swilling, chip-munching yobbos vote for the one that they think looks the best. We are proud she won but wish she hadn't done it.
You're a father so you must understand how we feel.
How old are your children?
I know this is a little forward of me, and I hope you don't mind me asking, but could you ask your wife for a traditional Nigerian recipe? Something seductive that she would cook to please you before leading you away to a hot and sweaty night in the master bedroom. Do you know what I mean?
I do like to cook and am always on the lookout for recipes from far-away places. It is something of a hobby with me.
Tomorrow I must try to find a head stockman to help finish the work in the west paddock. These things must continue even in the event of injury. Lord Vader would worry if I didn't.
Please forgive me rabbiting on like this; I just feel like talking. Perhaps it is the wine talking. The manor is very cold and empty at the moment. None colder and emptier than my bed. I do miss my Lord's embraces. So I decided to sit up and write to you instead.
I hope you don't mind.
I trust you and your family are well.
Best wishes, Juanita.