The False Chapter
Oct. 17th, 2008 12:25 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
woe-in-a-hoodie.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
indeedsir_backupAuthor: ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
woe_in_a_hoodie
(transcribed and posted bymellifluous_ink
Written on 28th September 2008
It is a well-circulated fact that every now and again, the modern bachelor feels a trifle lonesome. Yes, one goes about town with a gay, carefree and oft-times whangee-twirling air of thingummy. You know, the lark's on the wing, the snail's on the thorn, God's in his heaven, et cetera. It may, in fact, appear, in the eyes of the idle observer, that said gent is positively pipped about being alive, with no looming fears dangling by a bit of candyfloss over said johnny's head like the sword of that Greek chap.
In B. Wooster's (that is to say, in my) experience, however, that is far from the case. On your average day, I am assaulted by girls who fancy marrying me, girls who don't fancy marrying me and yet feel the need to run my schedule, mad aunts frothing at the mouth over some injustice (often, the fact that I remain unmarried despite aforementioned beazels)... I mean to say! It is rather a strain on one's delicate nerves.
It is also a well-circulated fact that my indispensable valet, one R. Jeeves, is an absolute genius of the first water, consumer of fish (brain food, that is), owner of the most brilliant and scheme-filled top-knot in all of the southwest London postal district, if not the world.
It is not known, however, that B. Wooster, every evening before bed, after donning the heliotrope pyjamas and having one last gasper, has one off at the wrist whilst entertaining thoughts of said valet.
But Jeeves, who will be scanning and editing this little bundle of papers--stories of my adventures, in which he invariably saves the day--will know soon enough.
When you read this, Jeeves, know that if you attempt to leave my service, I will find you again and blister your ears about it. I want you, dash it all! Don't ever leave, all right?
By the time you get to this bit I'll be ready for bed. Come tuck me in, will you? I've decided to give you a raise.
woe_in_a_hoodie (transcribed and posted by
mellifluous_inkWritten on 28th September 2008
It is a well-circulated fact that every now and again, the modern bachelor feels a trifle lonesome. Yes, one goes about town with a gay, carefree and oft-times whangee-twirling air of thingummy. You know, the lark's on the wing, the snail's on the thorn, God's in his heaven, et cetera. It may, in fact, appear, in the eyes of the idle observer, that said gent is positively pipped about being alive, with no looming fears dangling by a bit of candyfloss over said johnny's head like the sword of that Greek chap.
In B. Wooster's (that is to say, in my) experience, however, that is far from the case. On your average day, I am assaulted by girls who fancy marrying me, girls who don't fancy marrying me and yet feel the need to run my schedule, mad aunts frothing at the mouth over some injustice (often, the fact that I remain unmarried despite aforementioned beazels)... I mean to say! It is rather a strain on one's delicate nerves.
It is also a well-circulated fact that my indispensable valet, one R. Jeeves, is an absolute genius of the first water, consumer of fish (brain food, that is), owner of the most brilliant and scheme-filled top-knot in all of the southwest London postal district, if not the world.
It is not known, however, that B. Wooster, every evening before bed, after donning the heliotrope pyjamas and having one last gasper, has one off at the wrist whilst entertaining thoughts of said valet.
But Jeeves, who will be scanning and editing this little bundle of papers--stories of my adventures, in which he invariably saves the day--will know soon enough.
When you read this, Jeeves, know that if you attempt to leave my service, I will find you again and blister your ears about it. I want you, dash it all! Don't ever leave, all right?
By the time you get to this bit I'll be ready for bed. Come tuck me in, will you? I've decided to give you a raise.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-10-17 05:20 pm (UTC)PurpleFluffyCat x
no subject
Date: 2008-10-17 06:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-10-17 08:02 pm (UTC)The Lady 529
no subject
Date: 2008-10-17 10:06 pm (UTC)Wonderful way for to admit his feelings, hope Jeeves doesn't get too much of a shock when he reads it.
no subject
Date: 2008-10-17 11:51 pm (UTC)ahahahah! That was delightful (and very true to form)!
no subject
Date: 2008-10-18 02:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-10-18 09:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-10-19 05:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-10-29 04:04 pm (UTC)2."Stories of my adventures"!!!
Heaven knows, Bertie Wooster has had fruity adventures he would probably never dream of telling Jeeves, for the sake of propriety. Perhaps he'll tell Jeeves when the latter comes to tuck him in tonight.
Too cute. :-)