BS: On Twillingsgate

Subject: On Twillingsgate
From: Skipjack K8
Date: 20 Sep 02 - 06:59 AM

"Subject: RE: BS: Punch the Horse Part 99 From: GUEST,Penelope Rutledge Date: 12-Aug-02 - 10:38 PM

All right, I have had just about enough of this unutterable poppycock. You people have violated all common bounds of decency and good taste in this ridiculous series of "Punch the Horse" threads, and it is becoming so tiresome that I feel I must register a strong, an absolutely vehement protest! Desist at once. This is supposed to be a folk and blues forum, an arena of serious, intelligent discussion of traditional music forms...not a public venue on which to vent puerile humour and hatred toward animals. You people should be ashamed of yourselves! "Punch the Horse" indeed! I refuse to believe that Hull or any city in the English speaking world would put up with your offensive jokes for very long. We certainly do not tolerate it in Twillingsgate. Kindly take your silliness somewhere else.

Ms. Penelope Rutledge"

Discuss

Subject: RE: BS: On Twillingsgate
From: Nigel Parsons
Date: 20 Sep 02 - 07:07 AM

I can't claim to have read the original threads, as I assumed they either concerned a breed of Sufolk draught horse, or a horse with a mis-shapen nose which had taken its name from a puppet character.
I am glad you have enlightened me. I will now avoid those threads.
Yours
Disgusted (of Cardiff)

Subject: RE: BS: On Twillingsgate
From: GUEST
Date: 20 Sep 02 - 10:55 AM

Subject: RE: Punch the Horse at Foresters Thursday From: GUEST,Winston Wellington-Jones of Twillingsgate Date: 12-Sep-02 - 09:38 PM Shop: Fit As A Fiddle Oakley...

I feel it is best that I advise you to stay strictly away from Twillingsgate AND Ms Penelope Rutledge. The lady is under my personal protection, and I will thrash you within an inch of your miserable life if you bother her in any way whatsoever.

I captained the boxing team in my senior year, and I am fit as a fiddle. You will not be the first yobbo that I have trounced, I can assure you.

It will not be the horse who gets punched my friend, but the horse's hind end, if you have the very bad judgement to show your loutish face around Twillingsgate.

You have my word upon that, sir.

Yours faithfully,

Winston Wellington-Jones

Subject: RE: BS: On Twillingsgate
From: GUEST
Date: 20 Sep 02 - 10:56 AM

Subject: RE: Punch the Horse at Foresters Thursday From: Oakley Date: 13-Sep-02 - 03:02 AM

Winston Wellington-Jones, please be advised that I am, without question, in the initial stages of a pilgrimage to Twillingsgate and when I arrive I will personally seek you out, wrestle you to the floor and smear home-made plum jam into your spats. Sir, you are a fat idiot and it would not surpise me if your fedora smells of stale yoghourt. I have met your type before. It would be an honour to pit my cheerleading skills against your ancient boxing skills; prepare for humiliation, you finch-rearing maggot.

Subject: RE: BS: On Twillingsgate
From: Nigel Parsons
Date: 20 Sep 02 - 10:58 AM

Guest: better a "fich rearing maggot" than a "Minch rearing faggot!"

Subject: RE: BS: On Twillingsgate
From: GUEST
Date: 20 Sep 02 - 10:58 AM

Subject: RE: Punch the Horse at Foresters Thursday From: GUEST,Winston Wellington-Jones of Twillingsgate Date: 13-Sep-02 - 07:25 PM

Oakley - You impertinent, mealy-mouthed swine, you are in for a nasty surprise. What do you take me for? A fool? Or some doddering septegenarian pugilist reveling in the memories of his squandered youth? I don't wear spats, I wear the best Italian shoes, and I am 27 years old and trained to perfection. By heaven, sir, I shall give you a thumping you will never forget! I now see that I am dealing not only with a ruffian and a braggart, but a man in the grip of an obsessive complex. It is a good thing that Ms Rutledge, whose hallowed name is sullied by the mere utterance of your profane lips...or the stroke of your poison pen, did well to alert me to your delusions of romantic adventure.

Come to Twillingsgate then, come. I shall be waiting... Ask for me at the Vicar's Inn, and be sure all your affairs are in order.

Winston Wellington-Jones

Subject: RE: BS: On Twillingsgate
From: GUEST
Date: 20 Sep 02 - 11:24 AM

Subject: RE: Punch the Horse at Foresters Thursday From: GUEST,Ms Penelope Rutledge Date: 17-Sep-02 - 12:56 AM

Oakley, let me make one thing perfectly clear. I am nobody's "charge"! I am an independent woman in charge of her own affairs. (Furthermore, I may appear "severe" to some, but that is only due to my deep and abiding loyalty to what I know is right, good, and true.)

In the meantime I must say that I am really becoming quite exasperated with you gentlemen, both of you! You assume too much.

Now, Winston means well in his own way, but he has simply gone overboard on this whole situation since that remark you made about his "mummy". Good lord, the man is in a proper fury! I fear he may do himself or someone else an injury. He broke a perfectly good piece of bone china the other day by slamming his fist down on the table, and I have advised him to curb his emotions on this matter and act sensibly, at least in my presence. He also apparently broke his computer keyboard, and he is certainly NOT going to use mine! Accordingly, he has not posted here in response to your last remarks of 14th September.

He does little, in fact, but sit around with his "mates" at the Vicar's Inn, consume inordinate amounts of port and stout, and mutter darkly about the pummeling he intends to give you...and they, lot of fools that they are, egg him on of course, due to the fact that they are simply bored and at loose ends.

Well, it's all getting quite silly, isn't it? I suppose I should not have taken such umbrage over what I now see is merely the name of a band, albeit a band that plays rather...common music...but I haven't actually heard it, so I shall not cast further aspersions on it. That wouldn't be fair.

I see that you have a strong romantic bent, and that is in a sense admirable, as long as it is accompanied by a measure of mature judgement and restraint.

Now if you and Winston insist on wasting your energies threatening and sparring with one another, well, that is your lookout. I would regret being the indirect cause of any injurious incident, but if you are both bound and determined to behave like jealous schoolboys on a rampage...then I will have to wash my hands of the whole matter.

I think you should either commit yourself to the life and music you are familiar and comfortable with or else consider taking a whole new look at things. In the latter case, I recommend exposure to good British literature (the classics) and chamber or orchestral music of the finer sort. You can take a man out of England, but you can't take England out of the man, not if he is born to it, and that remains the hope and strength of this nation, come what may, globalization and the Common Market notwithstanding.

I feel sometimes that I was born in the wrong century, goodness knows, but one must persevere and not become discouraged. I look forward to better days, and a renewal of what made this country great.

Ms Penelope Rutledge

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Subject: RE: Punch the Horse at Foresters Thursday From: GUEST,Oakley Date: 17-Sep-02 - 05:41 AM

I have just written "Ms Penelope Rutledge" on my pencil -case, again. I was going to cut my ear off, but ended up shaving my arse out of devotion to you, my love. Some day we will be finally together, drinking strong lager and committing petty crimes in Twillingsate. I know this, because your post reeks of love for the poor smitten, smooth-arsed, hairy farmer.

Subject: RE: BS: On Twillingsgate
From: GUEST
Date: 20 Sep 02 - 11:26 AM

Subject: RE: Punch the Horse at Foresters Thursday From: GUEST,Miss "Q" Date: 18-Sep-02 - 01:05 PM Shop: The Ship This from the gossip column of the Twillingsgate Herald on Wednesday, Sept 18, 2002, afternoon edition... DONNYBROOK AT VICAR'S INN

An altercation erupted unexpectedly last night at the Vicar's Inn, involving several well-known local gentlemen and a sheep farmer and his companions who were passing through Twillingsgate. The farmer, Mr. Arthur Jessop, is an enthusiast of wooden period ship models, and had heard that there was a fine one on display at the Inn. Accordingly, Mr. Jessop and his companions, two cousins (William Stroud and Peter Stroud), and a friend of the Jessop family, Mr."Skippy" Stanford De Vine (a machinist), stopped off at the Inn on their way through Twillingsgate and entered the main dining room.

Mr. Jessop describes what happened next.

"Well, we was (sic) lookin' around at all the fine furnishin's, what wif this was a very fine inn I might say, and right genteel it was, and I seen (sic) the ship up there on the mantle, and she was a beauty! The Justinian, she be, wot was in Nelson's fleet, and so I'm admiring the model when up steps this gentleman, wif a nasty and superior attitude, and 'e says to me' 'e says "Oak Leaf, I presume?" I fink that's wot 'e said..Oak Leaf..."

"Wot?" says I.

"I told you wot would 'appen if you showed your ugly face around 'ere," 'e says.

"Wot the bleedin' ............ are you on about?" says I.

"I'll show you what I'm on about, you stupid sod," says 'e and wif that 'e pops me one! Right in the chops. Well, I seen it comin', so 'e only 'alf caught me cheek, but down I goes anyway. I's up right quick and sees that Skippy's got 'im by the froat. Then three other toffs they jumps on Skippy and William, Peter and me we jumps on them and away she goes! It was a right nasty fight, I'm tellin' you, and I don't know where it might 'ave ended, but along comes the local constabulary and arrests the lot of us, and there it is. I do not intend to visit Twillingsgate again and I am going to sue that pretentious bugger and 'is lunatic friends for damages. 'E ought to be incarcerated!"

Well, dear readers, all of Twillingsgate is agog at the news, since the gentleman who started the brouhaha is none other than Winston Wellington-Jones, well known and eligible man about town, and a member in good standing of the boxing club, the polo club, and the golf club. Teddy Featherstone, Randolph Muggeridge, and George Clydesworth IIIrd were also involved in the scuffle, taking the side of Wellington-Jones, and they are likewise members of the aforementioned polo and golf clubs, but not the boxing club. All had been drinking and talking for several hours prior to the incident, but had not caused any disturbance until after Mr. Jessop and his companions entered the Inn.

Wellington-Jones has refused to comment on the incident except to say "There appears to have been a mistake made here. I have nothing more to say."

Now, it is well known that Mr. Wellington-Jones has been nursing a grievance against one "Oakley", a mysterious secret admirer of Twillingsgate's very own doppelganger of the young Audrey Hepburn, Ms. Penelope Rutledge. Ms. Rutledge seems to have caught the attention of this Oakley (presumably a psuedonym) while participating in an internet discussion forum.

Friends of Ms. Rutledge, who must remain nameless, claim that Oakley has fallen madly in love with her. Well, he wouldn't be the first, would he?

Miss J- "He's mad about her! He swears he is coming on a pilgrimage to Twillingsgate, and Winston has been manning the battlements, as it were, expecting his imminent arrival. It's all very exciting!"

Miss T- "I think Penelope is actually rather taken with Oakley, though she won't admit it. Of course, he is beneath her station, that is clear, but I believe she is curious at the very least!"

Miss H- "She was quite flushed after reading his last message on the computer! She says he is of no importance whatsoever to her, but I think it's quite the other way around!"

(The above initials in no way resemble the actual names of our informants, naturally...)

Our efforts to interview Ms. Rutledge have proven fruitless thus far, as she will not comment on the matter. Ms. Rutledge is of course well known to our readers as the living, breathing apotheoisis of good taste, morality, and all that is upright and proper... Yes, the very pride of Twillingsgate, needless to say. She is today hosting a meeting of local ladies in the Green Room at the library, seeking to raise funds for homeless dogs, cats, and canaries. Attendance is expected to be good, and we shall be there, dear readers, pen in hand, ready to report on any further revelations.

It looks like the autumn season in Twillingsgate just may be a little warmer than usual this year!

- Pruella Tattle, Twillingsgate Herald

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Subject: RE: Punch the Horse at Foresters Thursday From: Oakley Date: 18-Sep-02 - 01:28 PM

Miss Q, you are a star. I now feel ashamed to read about shaven-arse, botty whiffs and trousers immediately before that beautiful post.

I now need to speak to Miss T on a matter of considerable importance. Be still, my beating heart.

Subject: RE: BS: On Twillingsgate
From: Little Hawk
Date: 20 Sep 02 - 11:39 AM

LOL! Like I said, it is beginning to sound like an unpublished D.H. Lawrence manuscript..."John Oakley and Lady Pen"... or something like that. Bloody marvelous!

I have read a fair bit of the original "Punch the Horse" threads, and they are almost incomprehensible, but good-natured in tone for the most part. They appear to concern the activities of an obscure band of musicians somewhere in England.

Ms. Penelope Rutledge, on the other hand, is entirely comprehensible, and is obviously a smouldering volcano of unrealized passion underneath her very well disciplined and tasteful exterior...

- LH

Subject: RE: BS: On Twillingsgate
From: Little Hawk
Date: 20 Sep 02 - 11:57 AM

Nigel - "Minch rearing faggot"! Oh, lord, lord... ROTFL!!!

- LH

Subject: RE: BS: On Twillingsgate
From: Willie-O
Date: 20 Sep 02 - 03:33 PM

Yer all a bunch o minch-fearin' spigots o' complete bilgewater.

When you've finished punching horses, you ougghta travel to the new world and see how cow-punchin is done.

Then go by muddy York and look up that Fielding chap. He punches leather.

Don't bother bringing spats. We have our own.

W-O

Subject: RE: BS: On Twillingsgate
From: Oaklet
Date: 28 Sep 02 - 01:49 PM

Subject: RE: Punch9 the 9Horse at Durty Nellies Pt999 From: GUEST,Miss Q Date: 28-Sep-02 - 11:20 AM

Be advised that Winston has managed to extricate himself from a very embarrassing situation by making a generous financial contribution to a certain sheep farm and a certain machinist's shop, accompanied by a thorough apology that must have caused him to clench his jaw muscles like an infuriated bull terrier to keep from biting his tongue. Oh, my! Humiliated before the lower classes! He has been in a VERY dark mood indeed, but is keeping himself under tight rein, and acting as if all is well and things are quite back to normal.

Well, there are observant souls around here who know differently! The fact is, Winston is biding his time and nursing a vendetta which he takes great pains to conceal...namely the utter destruction of a certain "Oakley", who would be well advised to tread lightly around the environs of Twillingsgate, methinks! There is nothing more dangerous than a patrician in a cold and calculating fury, waiting quietly for his prey to show itself. I am reminded of Lord John Roxton, in Conan Doyle's "The Lost World"....cultured, but deadly.

Our dear Penelope had some sharp words with Winston, reminding him of his moral obligations toward injured and innocent parties, regardless of their social stature, and has since refused to give him the time of day.

One wonders what is really on her mind, but she is playing the cards very close to her chest, as the saying goes...

The calm before the storm? Only time will tell.

Miss Q

Subject: RE: BS: On Twillingsgate
From: Oaklet
Date: 28 Sep 02 - 02:05 PM

Miss Q, can you please convey to Ms Penelope Rutledge the news that the small hairy farmer has spent three weeks reading the classics and has founded a string quartet whose speciality is Haydn's later, more turbulent works.

He has also bought an icebreaker of 8000 tons upon which he sits, dreaming of his one true love and has christened it the "Penelope R". He also writes endless love poems, although it has to be said that the last word of every line still, unfortunately rhymes with "Knickers".

God, how he yearns for a whiff of tartan, or to fondle the string that suspends the world's most erotic pair of half-moon bifocals.

Please don't refuse: Your role as go-between could just save his life.

Subject: RE: BS: On Twillingsgate
From: smallpiper
Date: 28 Sep 02 - 08:09 PM

Ah but speaking as a dead person is it a life worth saving? I find that this current afterlife is quite interesting.... the reincarnating can be a bit bothersome at times, but it does prevent a nasty niff following me around oh and the bits dropping off thing can be very inconvienient...

I must say that the Penny R is a splending ice breaker but perhaps the acorn got the tonnage wrong? It looked more like 8000lbs when I saw it docked on the river ahind durty nellies this evening.

Subject: RE: BS: On Twillingsgate
From: Oaklet
Date: 30 Sep 02 - 06:20 PM

Subject: RE: Punch9 the 9Horse at Durty Nellies Pt999
From: GUEST,Alfie - PM
Date: 30 Sep 02 - 01:12 PM

Oakley - My, you do love tempting fate, don't you? Or is it just a case of taunting the esteemed WW-J and driving him to further rash acts, such as assaulting the plumber or the postman? It worked once, but I doubt that it will work again. Still, you never can tell. I find WW-J's absolute silence on this forum rather ominous. I'm sure he can afford another keyboard after all...
A word of caution...he may decide to go looking for you, if he dares leave Twillingsgate and Ms Penelope R unguarded in the nonce. Enough clues have been dropped about the Punch the Horse events and their location that a good detective could follow them up and track you to your noisome musical haunts, there to reduce you to a battered heap of bat dung. I'm sure that Durty Nellie's has seen worse things happen before....

Alfie *



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Subject: RE: Punch9 the 9Horse at Durty Nellies Pt999
From: Oakley - PM
Date: 30 Sep 02 - 02:27 PM

I, on the other hand Alfie, find the foppish beau's silence on this forum merely indicative of his preference to cajole another of his hapless and misguided cohorts to speak feebly upon his behalf.
If he always speaks his mind, then that would certainly explain the silence from his puckered, slightly feminine lips.

If he chooses to mince through the delightful village of South Ferriby, pausing to enquire of my whereabouts at the Hope and Anchor - whilst forfifying himself with a warmed mineral water - I would be delighted to take a brief break from my stripped-to-the-waist, leather-clad hard farm labour and punch his lights right out.

Perhaps you would pass this on to the poor deluded man, adding that I will be in Twillingsgate before he regains consciousness. And in up to the maker's nameplate before he is even aware that he taken a sound thrashing.

Subject: RE: BS: On Twillingsgate
From: Oaklet
Date: 26 Oct 02 - 02:43 AM

Subject: RE: PTH @ Durty Nellies 9again)
From: GUEST,The Nemesis of the North - PM
Date: 25 Oct 02 - 10:33 PM
In The Mudcat Shop: Lions

Because of Punch the Horse's attitude, I usually don't respond to their histrionics, but this time I'll make an exception. What follows is a call to action for those of us who care -- a large enough number to raise issues, as opposed to guns or knives. Calling Punch the Horse gutless weirdos may be accurate, but I'm sticking out my neck a bit in talking about the lowest of all their minions...Oakley! His morality is lamentable, but no more so than his mottos or his taste in overshoes. It's quite likely he will try to retaliate against me for my telling you that if we can understand what has caused the current plague of dodgy slubberdegullions, I believe that we can then raise brown-nosing freebooters out of their cultural misery and lead them to the national community as a valuable, united factor. In order to solve the big problems with Punch and Oakley both, we must first understand these problems, and to understand them, we must teach nefarious survivalists about tolerance. I'm no expert, but it seems to me that the really interesting thing about all this is not that his personal attacks are attributable to an ignorance born of fear. The interesting thing is that I would sincerely like to comment on his attempt to associate fetishism with negativism. There is no association.

All I'm trying to do here is indicate in a rough and approximate way the fickle tendencies that make Oakley want to stultify art and retard the enjoyment and adoration of the beautiful. Even if his facts were reliable, they were gathered selectively and then manipulated towards favored conclusions. I want to carry out the famous French admonition, écrasez l'infâme!, against his crusades. I want to do this not because I need to tack another line onto my résumé, but because his fatuous-to-the-core revenge fantasies turn the trickle of cameralism into a tidal wave. News of this deviousness must spread like wildfire if we are ever to point out that the emperor has no clothes on. I must ask that Punch's minions review the basic issues at the root of the debate. I know they'll never do that, so here's an alternate proposal: They should, at the very least, back off and quit trying to demand that the gentle folk of Twillingsgate submit to the dominion of loquacious weasels. We can all have daydreams about Happy Fuzzy Purple Bunny Land, where everyone is caring, loving, and nice. Not only will those daydreams not come true, but all the deals Oakley makes are strictly one-way. He gets all the rights, and the other party gets all the obligations. If you agree, read on.

Oakley is a pretty good liar most of the time. However, he tells so many lies, he's bound to trip himself up someday. Most of us who have been around for a while realize that he refuses to come to terms with reality. Oakley prefers instead to live in a fantasy world of rationalization and hallucination. Finally, any mistakes in this letter are strictly my fault. But if you find any factual error or have more updated information on the subject of Punch the Horse, Oakley, Punch-inspired versions of mercantalism, etc., please tell me, so I can write an even stronger letter next time.

Sign me...the Nemesis of the North!

Subject: RE: BS: On Twillingsgate
From: Mr Red
Date: 26 Oct 02 - 05:36 AM

Well, after all this invective we are all Punch Drunk and Hoarse.

Subject: RE: BS: On Twillingsgate
From: Oaklet
Date: 26 Oct 02 - 08:33 AM

I don't know what the hell she's on about, but it's nice that she wrote all that about me. I think that Nemesis has a bit of a crush on the small hairy farmer - Penelope has competition! I think the best way to settle it would be the two if them to engage in a naked wrestling match in a huge vat of mashed bananas.

Subject: RE: BS: On Twillingsgate
From: Skipjack K8
Date: 26 Oct 02 - 07:53 PM

See how the lure of Penny R draws all to her flame. Should I reveal that the Nemesis is none other than the author of the seminal cautionary tale of balinitus 'Standing in the Bath'?

Subject: RE: BS: On Twillingsgate
From: Little Hawk
Date: 27 Oct 02 - 11:47 AM

The what????

- LH

Subject: RE: BS: On Twillingsgate
From: Oaklet
Date: 27 Oct 02 - 02:07 PM

Ahem, Little Hawk: Standing in the Rath is a track on the seminal Cara CD "Asleep Behind the Settee" - a waltz written by good friend Mike Ryan. Its title was translated from the English by jOhn in Hull on occasion of its inclusion in the Mudcat auction where it languishes, shall we say, untroubled by the excesses of frantic bidding.

The original (and still preferred) title reflects the fact that it came to Mike whilst he was contemplating things ancestral in a fairy ring, (or rath) close to the house where both Skipjack and I had the pleasure of residing for a brief week during happier times in the late summer - the late summer of the recording.

Standing in the bath does give male people an opportunity to de-cheese the helmet region and prevent balinitis, hence Skip's timely hygiene advice. He is the latter day equivalent of the wartime ministry for information.

Three cheers for Skip!

Subject: RE: BS: On Twillingsgate
From: Oaklet
Date: 05 Nov 02 - 10:56 AM

Subject: RE: Ethics: Skinning housecat for banjo head
From: GUEST,Ms Penelope Rutledge - PM
Date: 03 Nov 02 - 04:11 PM

Well! I am not going to remain silent when people joke about murdering cats in order to fashion primitive, bucolic instruments! This thread is deeply offensive. I have devoted many hours to rescuing homeless kitties in the Twillingsgate area, and I am appalled at the vulgar humour displayed in this discussion. While I understand that some of you are speaking tongue in cheek, I believe that there is a certain line which one should not cross, and it has definitely been crossed here.

Banjos are crude, noisy instruments...better suited to a dance hall with straw on the floor, I should think. Cats, on the other hand, are subtle and gorgeous creatures, full of natural grace and wisdom.

Kindly end this odious discussion. Hrothgar, I had better not find you roaming about Twillingsgate!

Ms Penelope Rutledge, Twillingsgate, U.K.


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Subject: RE: Ethics: Skinning housecat for banjo head
From: Oakley - PM
Date: 03 Nov 02 - 04:34 PM

Can I say, my dear Ms Rutledge, that of course, I am in complete agreement with you, and that my new friends in my string quartet (how we love Haydn's later, more turbulent opusesses) include a small businessman, and oral hygienist and an actress.

I am off now to the library to read Keats, and after that will continue is my tireless campaign to rid the world of animal cruelty - particularly cats, which I love.

May I ask, at this juncture whether you would consider doing me the honour of being my guest at The Brocklesby Hunt Ball this year. It is in three weeks. A truly wonderful opportunity to celebrate all the fun that the hunt has had this year in ripping literally thousands of foxes into tiny shreads.

It would make a good-looking, virile and not impoverished farmer, very happy indeed.   

Yours affectionately


Lionel Oakley


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Subject: RE: Ethics: Skinning housecat for banjo head
From: Fingerbuster - PM
Date: 03 Nov 02 - 04:41 PM

I'm with you Hrothgar, when are we goin ahuntin?


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Subject: RE: Ethics: Skinning housecat for banjo head
From: GUEST,Ms Penelope Rutledge - PM
Date: 03 Nov 02 - 05:05 PM
In The Mudcat Shop: Retrospect

Honestly, this forum is the very limit! I should have realized that traversing the wilds of the Internet would be an experience not for the faint of heart, but I had no idea what was out there until I did.

Oakley, you are a persistent and unusual fellow, to be sure. While your efforts to better yourself are encouraging, I'm not sure that I can promise a meeting in the near future. By the way, I believe that the Nemesis of the North was a male, but I am not sure who. I suspect it was one of Winston's friends, most of whom are pretentious wastrels in search of idle tomfoolery. It didn't sound like Winston himself to me, though. They are just trying to stir the pot. I was thunderstruck at your suggestion regarding the wrestling match in the pit of mashed potatoes. You really do have a vivid imagination, don't you? Actually, it was rather funny in retrospect! You surely couldn't have been serious? If I were inclined to compete with another female in the arena of love, I would choose more subtle means than that, I assure you. :>) (Note that I have learned about emoticons.)

Now I see that another subhuman cat hater is attempting to wave the red flag at me, as if I were some monstrous bovine standing in a field...

Well too bad, Fingerbuster. I wasn't born last week, and I have said my piece. You can't put me off my tea and cookies that easily, sir!

Ms Penelope Rutledge


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Subject: RE: Ethics: Skinning housecat for banjo head
From: Oakley - PM
Date: 03 Nov 02 - 05:28 PM

I love you with all my heart, Ms Penelope Rutledge.

Subject: RE: BS: On Twillingsgate
From: smallpiper
Date: 05 Nov 02 - 11:58 AM

Oh dear!

Subject: RE: BS: On Twillingsgate
From: GUEST,Miss "Q" of Twillingsgate
Date: 05 Nov 02 - 07:28 PM

This from the arts column of the Twillingsgate Herald on Monday, Nov 4, 2002, morning edition...

MALCOLM BUGGEROLL SIGNS BOOKS AT VICAR'S INN

The highly esteemed "Poet of the Highlands", Malcolm Buggeroll was on hand at the Vicar's Inn this past Sunday afternoon for a signing of his latest edition of poems and essays "The Monkey's Breakfast - an exploration of British mores on the family farm". Mr Buggeroll arrived at 2 O'Clock sharp and was immediately surrounded by a crowd of adoring fans, among whom were seen such luminaries as Herbert Cadwell-Snyfferton, Lord and Lady Pertinstone, and Ms Penelope Rutledge, clad in a fetching sky blue gown that suggested the Napoleonic era to me, sans the lowcut bodice, of course! Alas! for the mensfolk...but I digress.

Mr Buggeroll proceeded to read from his new book to the enraptured audience, regaling them with piquant passages from his most pertinent prose. Short poems such as "Fluffy's Dilemma" were read in their entirety, and bore a whole new quality for those accustomed only to reading Mr Buggeroll's works in the privacy of their drawing room or veranda.

In short, Mr Buggeroll has an oratorical style which somehow combines the rough-hewn edges of the bucolic life with the sophisiticated wit and satire known only to the upper echelons of country society.

Following the readings, Mr Buggeroll engaged in a lengthy ad hoc lecture which introduced some quite unexpected topics, such as his lifelong love of farm animals, labourers, and schoolchildren.

"What is your favourite animal?" I inquired of him.

"I love ALL animals!" he answered, "...but SHEEP...I ADORE sheep. They are so wooly, innocent, and obliging. And they are trusting. No sheep ever thinks ill of someone approaching from behind, and this is a trait found only in the pure of heart, I think. If more people were sheep-like in their character, this would be a far more loving world."

At this point there was a disturbance, Winston Wellington-Jones having broken out in a serious coughing fit. He became quite red-faced, and had to be escorted to the lavatory. Fortunately he came to no harm, but could be seen sometime afterward laughing uproariously at some joke with his friends on the patio outside. I thought it to be rather inconsiderate of them, but Buggeroll, being the Great Man he is, paid them no mind.

At the conclusion of what was really a quite splendid afternoon, Ms Rutledge was asked to read a dedication to Mr Buggeroll on behalf of all Twillingsgate. The sum and substance of it was that the Vicar's Inn had decided to rename its finest guest rooms in Mr Buggeroll's honour.

To quote Ms Rutledge..."From this day forward these lodgings will be known as 'Suite Buggeroll'...and...and..." (Ms Rutledge appeared momentarily confused) "And, dear friends, here over the door is the embossed plaque which bears those very words and which shall forever commemorate this suite as...well, as I said before...and, well, I...thank you one and all!"

At this point there was a positive shriek of laughter from the patio, indicating that Mr Wellington-Jones and his compadres had probably imbibed just a wee bit too much champagne. They got cross looks from both Ms Rutledge, who appeared quite flushed, and Mr Buggeroll himself, but their faux pas was soon forgotten in the delicious dinner that followed...a tour de force by the kitchen staff of the Vicar's Inn. Even haggis was served, but only Mr Buggeroll partook of it as far as I could see.

I can safely say that a splendid time was had by all, with the possible exception of Ms Rutledge who appeared to have taken slightly ill, and excused herself early. Wellington-Jones and his riotous friends fortunately departed early as well, to the bar, where I am told they remained until closing time.

Malcom Buggeroll will be signing his book this coming Thursday at the Book Cellar in Twillingsgate, and all lovers of British literature are encouraged to sieze the chance to obtain a signed First Edition of "The Monkey's Breakfast", hot off the press, as it were...a mere 85 Pounds, and a bargain at the price.

- Constancia Cooper, Twillingsgate Herald

Subject: RE: BS: On Twillingsgate
From: smallpiper
Date: 06 Nov 02 - 11:24 AM

LOL But tell me is Twillingsgate in Wales then?

Subject: RE: BS: On Twillingsgate
From: Little Hawk
Date: 08 Nov 02 - 08:59 PM

My feeling is, it's either in the Cotswolds or somewhere near Glastonbury.

- LH