Jibber Jabber - Q1 - 29

Dear Sir,

I think I may have fractured my arm. I have rung for the Doctor, and he assures me an ambulance is on the way.

I have now come out of the cupboard, although I believe you Americans may call it a closet. My wife found me eventually. A woman like that doesn’t give up easily. When I saw her she was so enraged her head was purple like a giant grape and her eyes bulged so much I thought they were going to pop right out and explode in my face.

She has gone now, left the house and is storming her way to Heathrow as I write. Does BOAC still exist? I feel sorry for them if they do. She will soon be making the lives of several stewardesses quite miserable.

My arm? Oh, that wasn’t her fault. I foolishly tried to calm her by reaching through the door as she left. Of course it slammed shut on me. I’m not ashamed to admit I shrieked like a baby banshee, but my wife didn’t even notice. Her blood was up, and she didn’t miss a step as marched down the path, kicking several garden gnomes over the neighbour’s cottage as she went. Hell, indeed, hath no fury like a woman.

The house and chattels can be repaired. Apparently insurance will replace most things. The last time something similar happened, the insurance man told us we weren’t covered, but then my love had a ‘chat’ with him and he saw fit to change his mind.

Before she left she apologised for the damage to the house. Or at least she bared her teeth at me and growled, which is pretty much the same thing. It’s as close to saying ‘sorry’ she has ever gotten.

Allow me to explain her rage.

Last year, barely into summer, I wrote a letter to the government on a matter of national security. At around the same time I wrote a story for your dismal little contest. Unfortunately I happened to miss my medication one morning and, feeling light headed, inadvertently switched the envelopes, thus sending a tale of lust on the planet Venus to the Chief of Defence and a vital letter of national security to Miss Joni.

Of course Whitehall did not respond to me. Why would they? Although it probably gave those old Generals a thrill to read of sordid affairs and liaisons between humans and Venutians. Then several months later I received a rejection from this Dave Wolverine for my letter regarding national security. Of course I still did not realise I had switched those missives.

My understanding is that this little contest of yours is supposed to be completely anonymous. Can you imagine my shock when my wife informed me in that sweet roar of hers that she had stumbled upon my letter published on some interwebtube magazine thing?

There is a leak within this contest. After rejecting it, Joni, or Wolverine or someone apparently gave my letter to someone else. My wife tells me I can only imagine the mocking tones, the howls of derisive laughter which surrounded this event. And then some colonial convict, some plagiaristic hack took my letter and published it as though a fiction.

Once she saw it, my wife flew into a rabid frenzy. It took me several minutes before I could even determine what had caused her murderous rage. I’ve tried searching on the goggle website for this letter myself, but computers don’t seem to work very well for me. As it is I can barely recall the day in question, so I’m not entirely sure what I wrote. My wife screamed that some names and a few minor details had been changed by this blasted colonial, but apparently anyone who knows me well enough will immediately recognise my bravado, my derring-do, my gung-ho approach and manner. My love certainly did.

As for this so-called editor. How dare he? A person of low ethics and moral turpitude has accepted this document and placed it in his trashy little excuse for a magazine. My wife, of course, is concerned by how she is portrayed in this fiction, and now believes she has been made a laughing stock. I told her it didn’t matter what other people thought. After she’d bitten the heads off all the roses in the garden, she reminded me she is a delicate little wallflower, a small, retiring and fragile shrinking violet.

And so she is outraged and on her way to the United States to “deal”, as she describes it, with Wolvertine and Miss Joni. I wouldn’t mind betting that Torgersen chap was involved too, although I was strong enough to keep his name out of it for now. He’s a military man, and I did my best – although I’m not sure why I felt the need to protect him. Those damned yankee soldiers were always trying to take credit for everything. Coming late for two world wars, claiming to have ended them both, currently working really hard to be early for the next one.

Anyway, my love is on her way to your colonial shores. As she thundered off down the road, the last thing I heard her shout was, “It’s gripped. It’s sorted. Let’s kick some Yankee Arse.”

Warn the contest people, and this editor and publisher chap.

Beware, and stay safe.

Yours sincerely,

Brigadier Sir Charles Arthur Strong (Mrs.)

p.s. – I think it is rather ironic that s_c_baker (Is it typical for Americans to have underscores in their names? And how do you pronounce them?) suggested the supposed ‘creator’ behind my persona, as though I were not a real, living, breathing entity, should submit a story in my so called style. He wrote he couldn't see “how you'd lose with an epistolary piece in the same vein as your forum posts.” Well, Mr. s_c_baker, I received a rejection, and now my letter has been stolen and published by a colonial thief! Feeling embarrassed? How wrong were you?

Dear Bob Writer Sir,

Sir, I believe I found your lost letter:

http://www.galaxysedge.com/n2.htm

I await your next command on the breach of security.

Dear Bob Writer Sir,

Sir, I believe I found your lost letter:

http://www.galaxysedge.com/n2.htm

I await your next command on the breach of security.

ha, only on tthe infamous Q1 29 thread ... and the things we learn

All you colonial chappies can relax. The letter is clearly a forgery and was probably written by a alien agent provocateur who had learned his English in America. We shall have to send out an equerry to recall Lady Strong from Heathrow. (That's Lady not Mrs on account of her being married to a famous Saturday Knight.)

The give-away is the inability to conjugate the verb 'to fit' in the perfect tense. I have reason to believe that the past participle of this verb was lost overboard by you colonials somewhere between your departure from Plymouth (Devon), where they speak a sort of English, and your arrival in that other Plymouth where you don't.

As if a retired brigadier would ever write 'she fit in well with the other fellows'. The very idea!

P.S. And how do we know the above post is really by Brigadier Strong? I mean, look at the picture. It doesn't look a thing like him!

P.P.S. And anyway that Klaatu is another alien. I know because I saw him in 'The Day The Earth Stood Still.'

P.P.P.S. Though the first time he did look quite like Michael Rennie.

Dear Bob Writer Sir,

Sir, I believe I found your lost letter:

http://www.galaxysedge.com/n2.htm

I await your next command on the breach of security.

Dear Bob Writer Sir,

Sir, I believe I found your lost letter:

http://www.galaxysedge.com/n2.htm

I await your next command on the breach of security.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Answers!!! We have ANSWERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Can I just say I love Bob's signature? So hilarious, like everything else Bob does.

Well played. Well. Played.

Well played. Well. Played.

So much this.

I have discovered in the archives an important remark made by Brigadier Strong when he was Deputy Chief of Staff to some American called Eisenhower in 1943.

He said, "The best time in a man's life is when he gets to like Americans."

For this important service Brigadier Strong was awarded the Legion of Merit by the USA. He was knighted in 1952 because it always takes a long time for British fashions to catch up.

Bob, you fiend!

Steve

That is all I have to say about this.

This is worse than when I learned Santa Claus didn't exist (last year)

I just read the March part of this thread and the letter in Galaxy.

When I felt my jaws aching I realized I was grinning while I was reading.

Very entertaining.

tap, tap, tap...

Is this thing on?

tap, tap, tap...

Is this thing on?

Answers!!! We have ANSWERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Life? The universe? Everything???????

Spring cleaning time. Throw out all those old marked up pages, fluff up the language, file the story stacks, and buy
a new printer cartridge. Winter is . . . WHAT? Down below freezing again? OH CRAP! What about my tulips?

Spring cleaning time. Throw out all those old marked up pages, fluff up the language, file the story stacks, and buy
a new printer cartridge. Winter is . . . WHAT? Down below freezing again? OH CRAP! What about my tulips?

I never assume the snow is really gone until Easter. Sometimes Mother's Day. There's a rumor we'll see 1-2" on the ground by Tuesday morning.

Spring cleaning time. Throw out all those old marked up pages, fluff up the language, file the story stacks, and buy
a new printer cartridge. Winter is . . . WHAT? Down below freezing again? OH CRAP! What about my tulips?

I never assume the snow is really gone until Easter. Sometimes Mother's Day. There's a rumor we'll see 1-2" on the ground by Tuesday morning.

I went to the Bluegrass Stakes in Lexington (Sat) to the most perfect weather. Slight breeze. Mid 70's. Blue sky with a few white clouds. Green grass. Flowering bushes. They're about a week ahead of us, maybe two. Grass is green here, but I've heard above Bay City, MI it's still brown. If I recall, you're not that far up. Right? Or no?

Spring cleaning time. Throw out all those old marked up pages, fluff up the language, file the story stacks, and buy
a new printer cartridge. Winter is . . . WHAT? Down below freezing again? OH CRAP! What about my tulips?

I never assume the snow is really gone until Easter. Sometimes Mother's Day. There's a rumor we'll see 1-2" on the ground by Tuesday morning.

I went to the Bluegrass Stakes in Lexington (Sat) to the most perfect weather. Slight breeze. Mid 70's. Blue sky with a few white clouds. Green grass. Flowering bushes. They're about a week ahead of us, maybe two. Grass is green here, but I've heard above Bay City, MI it's still brown. If I recall, you're not that far up. Right? Or no?

I'm a bit south, way west. That makes for some major differences. We're seeing some green. Not enough to mow, mind you, but enough to brighten my day when I drive to work.

I went to the Bluegrass Stakes in Lexington ...
Grass is green here, but I've heard above Bay City, MI it's still brown.

The problem with people on this board is a lack of consistency. Now let's get it clear please; is the grass green, brown or blue?

I went to the Bluegrass Stakes in Lexington ...
Grass is green here, but I've heard above Bay City, MI it's still brown.

The problem with people on this board is a lack of consistency. Now let's get it clear please; is the grass green, brown or blue?

Yes.

I went to the Bluegrass Stakes in Lexington ...
Grass is green here, but I've heard above Bay City, MI it's still brown.

The problem with people on this board is a lack of consistency. Now let's get it clear please; is the grass green, brown or blue?

And soon white!

Hang on, are we making references to absurdist English children's books now?

Nope. No eggs here.

Nope. No eggs here.

Keep looking! I hear rumor there are Gator eggs around!

Happy Snappy Easter!

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Jibber Jabber - Q1 - 29
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Phew. Glad that's still right.