The Brigadiere Replies: Flux vs the Foible
Dear Ms. Katehopeeden,
I have pondered your question in my mind and, as luck would have it, have come to some rather startling conclusions. Your concern that your recent wound may have come from some flux state of the moon is, I believe, completely unfounded. And if there is one thing I know.. it's wounds. Back in my day in The War I spent much of my time learning the ropes, as it were, about All Things Woundish. Now far be it from me to diminish the power of the moon, which scientists nowadays have found control things like those "womanly cycles" and falling in love. I personally hold the belief that if a stout has reached it's final stage of brewing just before a full moon drinking it on summer solstice can cure things like lycanthropy and stuttering. But enough of my "wretchedly silly beliefs" as Smiggins used to call them. Now I know that in a certain fashion I have answered your question. I have informed you that I do not hold the belief that your affective aggravation was the result of lunar lacerations. But I feel that I have not yet reached the end of my journey. And far be it from myself to leave a pint half full!
Now, Ms. Katehopeeden, I am going to do my best to mind my p's and q's, but I shan't be walking on eggshells either. It is my belief that this person has found a chink in your emotional chainmail. Now whether or not they were taking potshots with their broguish bow intentionally is not something that I can determine from this standing on the battlefield. But I can tell you that you should most certainly dress this wound accordingly and shore up your defenses! Perhaps a careful application of an "ointment of discourse" with this person may help. If not you are left with the slower healing properties of Father Time. And you should see an armorsmith regarding that armor if you are unable to mend it yourself. Any old armorsmith would do. You probably have a friend that's one and you don't even know it!
Now typically this is where I would normally digress and drone on and on about my old war wound, as it's a semi-natural segue from your wound to mine, but quite frankly, I'm beginning to realize just how much people really don't want to hear about that old bit of shrapnel lodged in my most nethery of regions. I used to believe that the catatonia and drooling that normally follows my reciting this tale was due to an inability of others to hold their whiskey properly. But I now hold the suscipion that I'm actually quite a brilliant bore.
Well, I believe it's proper to end things at the, well, the ending, which is what I'm about to do.
Tally ho and chin up!
Sir Brigadiere General Grend31, Mrs.
I have pondered your question in my mind and, as luck would have it, have come to some rather startling conclusions. Your concern that your recent wound may have come from some flux state of the moon is, I believe, completely unfounded. And if there is one thing I know.. it's wounds. Back in my day in The War I spent much of my time learning the ropes, as it were, about All Things Woundish. Now far be it from me to diminish the power of the moon, which scientists nowadays have found control things like those "womanly cycles" and falling in love. I personally hold the belief that if a stout has reached it's final stage of brewing just before a full moon drinking it on summer solstice can cure things like lycanthropy and stuttering. But enough of my "wretchedly silly beliefs" as Smiggins used to call them. Now I know that in a certain fashion I have answered your question. I have informed you that I do not hold the belief that your affective aggravation was the result of lunar lacerations. But I feel that I have not yet reached the end of my journey. And far be it from myself to leave a pint half full!
Now, Ms. Katehopeeden, I am going to do my best to mind my p's and q's, but I shan't be walking on eggshells either. It is my belief that this person has found a chink in your emotional chainmail. Now whether or not they were taking potshots with their broguish bow intentionally is not something that I can determine from this standing on the battlefield. But I can tell you that you should most certainly dress this wound accordingly and shore up your defenses! Perhaps a careful application of an "ointment of discourse" with this person may help. If not you are left with the slower healing properties of Father Time. And you should see an armorsmith regarding that armor if you are unable to mend it yourself. Any old armorsmith would do. You probably have a friend that's one and you don't even know it!
Now typically this is where I would normally digress and drone on and on about my old war wound, as it's a semi-natural segue from your wound to mine, but quite frankly, I'm beginning to realize just how much people really don't want to hear about that old bit of shrapnel lodged in my most nethery of regions. I used to believe that the catatonia and drooling that normally follows my reciting this tale was due to an inability of others to hold their whiskey properly. But I now hold the suscipion that I'm actually quite a brilliant bore.
Well, I believe it's proper to end things at the, well, the ending, which is what I'm about to do.
Tally ho and chin up!
Sir Brigadiere General Grend31, Mrs.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home