Gentlemens Spice
How much do you take in your Gentlemen’s Spice? Asquith: Rioja. Absolutely without a doubt. You can tell from the aroma. Browne:Nonsense, it’s further south than that – La Mancha. As I said before, ignore the aromas and look at the colour, that colour screams La Mancha. Asquith: I say you are wrong old boy, this [...]
It is to be my greatest work – “The Temptation of St. Anthony”. In this space here the great Saint will be on his knees with his arms up to heaven as he is surrounded in the desert by the most foul trickery the devil can conjure. I shall be using both subtlety and the explicit to depict the temptations; this line here will be the long path that St. Anthony has walked. Over here will be a creature representing sloth and I will draw the viewer’s eyes to the blisters on the Saint’s feet – that is just one of many examples that I will create in this piece.
“Get your lips tighter around it, you’re dribbling.”
This was the third time in the space of ten minutes I had to draw attention to Miss Rotterlicks’ technique. She looked up to me with those bugged eyes of hers, blessed with all the grace of a grasshopper. As she always did in these scenarios, she began to go faster.
Stagehand: Curtain call, five minutes, ladies…
Doris: He wanted to put it where?
Ethel: Me back passage.
Doris: But, Ethel… That’s tiny.
Ethel: I know, that’s what I said, wouldn’t listen though. He gave it a good try and got covered in oil, the silly goose. Told him, to stick it round front.
All Rise…
Well, your ‘onour, I arrived on the corner of Brick Lane and White Chapel ‘igh street at approximately 3am on the morning of November 6th 1927. Across the road, lying on the ground face-down, was a body which I presumed to be that of a reveller who was slightly worse for wear.
“I say, what a marvelous cock!”
I was so pleased the Vicar had noticed on this splendid spring day. Last year he had seemed to be obsessed by Lady Watson’s tits, and if we’re being perfectly honest, we would have to admit to agreeing they were a most magnificent pair, and most worthy of the prestigious Best Birds award in the Kensington and Chelsea Annual Ornithology Show 1911. But this was 1912. A whole year had passed. A year in which I had spent a great deal of time preparing and nurturing my Spangling Green Cock.
Some more Gentlemen’s Spice Asquith: You know Georgie? Browne: Do I ? Rather! Went for a spin in that ferocious motorcar of his the other week. Asquith: We were out around Piccadilly last Friday. Browne: Bet it was a right hoot! Last time I was out with him, practically emptied the bar at the Strand. Next morning, [...]
Should I feel bad?
It will be irrelevant in a few hours, the sand will engulf both our wretched bodies. Christ!
Thompson bought it last night, though the sun had claimed his mind a lot earlier. He had spent most of his final hours on his stomach, just laying there resting his cheek against the sand, a miserable specimen of a man. He didn’t move or make a sound, and the only sign that marked his passing was when his eyes no longer blinked.