That's the verst series of puns imaginable.
What on erg were you thinking?
Flesh you may have but not a drop of blood.
While inching my way towards the bar to offer a few pence for a dram
of seventy proof, I might raise a footling objection to that
depiction and be defenestrated onto the stones of the yard without
scruples. Achieving the security of my quarter acre and lit only by
candle power, I regret my drunken utterances while I fry the perch I
took on a rod this morning - not a furlong hence across the hide and
just through the virgate. But hunger eludes me and I peck at the fish
and groats, finally throw it in the chaldron for soup and bed down
on a wey of hay in a stupor, having consumed a near kilderkin of ale
and a rundlet of port.
Murkins only refuse to use metric 'cos it was invented by the French.
They should convert immediately, unless they know how many oxgangs
there are in a hide. Or tads in a smidgeon.
Andrew Fildes
afildes@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
On 15/05/2007, at 7:20 PM, Marc Lawrence wrote:
>
>> Dharma Singh wrote:
>> That's miles off what he meant
>
> ...but perhaps everyone was thrown by his Imperious manner
> and deceptively avoirdupois phrasings. It can be difficult
> to fathom meaning when he can balance a hundredweight of irony
> behind an ounce of verbosity. I suspect the pound of flesh
> for that silver tongue may have had him put his foot in it,
> up to the gills in debt, and in league, to the Dark One.
>
> He's a hard man to get the measure of.
>
> Metrically yours,
> Marc
> Sydney, Oz
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