I'm gazing languidly at all of these pinks and lavenders and contemplating the possible brutal assassination of David Barnes.
Know ye not that what I have to say in no way concerns these morally unsettling images of outrageous televisual devastation - this is an important matter of the heart, and of state, and also of import, which I merely point out in order to once again drive home the absolutely overwhelming importance of this deucedly meaningful post. In short, we're to be wed for the betterment of society - the Rev. Barnes, an ebullient old clergyman, is officiating. Indeed, it was at his wise advice that I came here today to swish my massively inflated ego about within the hallowed pinkish-purple confines of your livejournal. Whole worlds depend on the outcome of the ceremony, and so I've scraped out the contents of my pockets, lint and all, pawned them and bought with the money this, your wedding present - Bograt the Baby Stoat, and hired a caterer to provide singularly cheap and unwholesome sweets for the unfortunate guests. Surely the strength of my argument for your hand is unassailable!
Furthermore, let me toss out the singularly distracting word "oolong"! Gosh. I just brewed a pot. It's nice and warm. Would you like a cup?
- Sir Addison Hart, Bart. (Bad, naturally - whoever heard of a Good Bart.?)
I love Patrick Troughton. Know this before you read.
I'm gazing languidly at all of these pinks and lavenders and contemplating the possible brutal assassination of David Barnes.
Know ye not that what I have to say in no way concerns these morally unsettling images of outrageous televisual devastation - this is an important matter of the heart, and of state, and also of import, which I merely point out in order to once again drive home the absolutely overwhelming importance of this deucedly meaningful post. In short, we're to be wed for the betterment of society - the Rev. Barnes, an ebullient old clergyman, is officiating. Indeed, it was at his wise advice that I came here today to swish my massively inflated ego about within the hallowed pinkish-purple confines of your livejournal. Whole worlds depend on the outcome of the ceremony, and so I've scraped out the contents of my pockets, lint and all, pawned them and bought with the money this, your wedding present - Bograt the Baby Stoat, and hired a caterer to provide singularly cheap and unwholesome sweets for the unfortunate guests. Surely the strength of my argument for your hand is unassailable!
Furthermore, let me toss out the singularly distracting word "oolong"! Gosh. I just brewed a pot. It's nice and warm. Would you like a cup?
- Sir Addison Hart, Bart. (Bad, naturally - whoever heard of a Good Bart.?)