Dear rapidly-redeeming-himself-in-the-eyes-of-all-shipmates Nelson! He has posted the first ever pirate home video. It reveals the interior of his current lair and shows a recent training session with his new doggy, Sea Rover.
Snuggs! It's time to do a little gardening! We shall have to make sure the Pet Enclosure and Exercise Garden is ready for this season's guests!
I do apologize for being so remiss; this Blogger interweb thingy has been a bit wonky of late and it completely gobbled up an extremely diverting tale of a few days ago, which left me completely vexed and flummoxed.
It was something or other about Nelson's recent forays into the world of literature and his BLARG and so forth.
Speaking of the world of literature, I have been getting ever so many chuckles out of dear captain Gus' novel wot he wrote with the assistance of his clever but rather weedy stooge, Keith.
I became quite excited that he had put rats in, but alas! they were no relation to sweet li'l num-nums Bob.
Still, it's the thought that counts. And so far there have been several incidents that bear a slight relationship to Gus' actual real-life adventures, but of course in order to avoid legal problems with the Venezuelan federalies, he has had to change much in order to conceal his identity.
But he has followed the cardinal rule: write what you know. Clever of him.
I have not yet finished perusing the oeuvre, so please do not mention any spoilers or I shall have to cut you off quite, QUITE ruthlessly. However, I've read enough to go on with the book club meeting. Is anybody still lurking about?
And surely it's time we start planning a little tequila mayhem between the dears Gus and Ken and Senor Rojo Caballero Wotzisname?
And I do assume the wedding is still on? Otherwise we shall have rather diffy conversation with the caterer's concerning the shower nosh.
1 comment:
my dear miz b:
in your absence, i am workin' exhaustively....but have already passed along yer directions to mr. boab for refurbishment of the backgarden...leavin' myself some incantation space, of course. a girl's gotta have some place to go to take off her manola's.
i am quite enchanted by sea rover, but am a lil distressed that we've had no word from my lil rodent num nums. his last care package from *cheese of the month club* was returned, and i don't know why. as mr. gus also seems mia, i can't find out a blessed thing. miz sibyl also remains mute (which is rather strange for that lady, you must admit) so i'm at a loss as what to do viz a viz the caterers and all the adorable lil skull & crossbones we've ordered for the table center pieces.
i've finished my copy of Pirates of Pensacola, but promise not to divulge any details. actually, i found the abdominal workout that ensued very beneficial, and that *POP* doubles as a personal trainer. *nods* a very unexpected benefit. and mr. keith has promised us *the history of velour* soonly, in case the multiple shots of tequila stop workin' as a sleep aid.
the mcfinster brothers continue, much like nelson, to become largely unrecognizable in their metamorphosis. dear mr. boab has certainly wrought some wonderous changes there.
miz b, i trust you will find the paperwork in order. please let me know when to begin schedulin' our book club meetings.
yr. obedient if a lil tired and cranky factotum,
(sir) snuggs
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