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The collected opinions of an august and aristocratic personage who, despite her body having succumbed to the ravages of time, yet retains the keen intellect, mordant wit and utter want of tact for which she was so universally lauded in her younger days. Being of a generation unequal to the mysterious demands of the computing device, Lady Bracknell relies on the good offices of her Editor for assistance with the technological aspects of her journal.

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Location: Bracknell Towers

Sunday, September 30, 2007

Speaking of things...

... which really don't need to be disguised (this time in a "pretty pouch made of embroidered satin", rather than in a crocheted sombrero...)




And, in any case, if my daily complement of meds would actually fit in to one of those tiny little compartments, then that in itself would be the only Christmas present I'd need.



The Editor

6 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

I'd have trouble fitting my daily meds into one of those - never mind a weeks worth!

7:19 pm  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Me lactulose would leak out of it!

Robert Southey

7:44 pm  
Blogger DD said...

Yes, I can see that capacity might be a problem, how about one of these?

9:12 pm  
Blogger Lady Bracknell said...

Ideal. Capacious and yet feminine. I think I might have a job fitting it into my handbag, though...

9:18 pm  
Blogger DD said...

Perhaps her Ladyship could delegate the porterage to a factotum.

9:33 pm  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

If I may make so bold as to respond to the good Dame via these pages...

It is a well known fact that, in her present circumstances, Her Ladyship has only two factoti; the Editor (whose physical incapacity with regard to lifting and shifting bears a remarkable similarity to her Ladyship's own) and her chauffeur the Redoubtable Dude (who frequently has trouble raising even a smile, let alone anything more weighty).

However this is largely an academic point as, if you look closely, you will notice that this entry was penned not by Her Ladyship but by the Editor. So it is the Ed's meds we are discussing here, and she doesn't have a factotum to her name! Perhaps some kind of haversack might present an appropriate solution; I'll see if I can think of anyone amongst the Editor's acquaintances to whom I might recommend the purchase of one as a Christmas gift. I'm thinking of something in day-glo pink, perhaps bearing a witty slogan... or maybe in a more sombre shade but bearing the crest and sponsorship details of a local footballing club.

Dude

8:11 am  

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