My Brilliant Career (with the Navy) began rather like this. Here is one of my earliest patrons - as you can see I have dispensed rather a tot more joy than was strictly necessary. I gave him some career advice, and it appears that he followed it to the letter.
The rest of his manoeuvres that evening are chronicled via the link thingy. Since then I've always had a very great affection for all things Naval, as its' Members always wanted the same advice; they spent a great deal of their pay whilst on liberty receiving counseling from me in the form of endless measures of grog and Imperial pints of fine cask-conditioned ales. Generally, my advice went like this: "Have another, and then I believe there are some very nice but rather lonely girls that wait around for someone to take them to the moving pictures down Christmas Steps."
I should like to mention that my email thingy will now accept missives from all and sundry, although I reserve the right to refuse all proposals of marriage, and also all propositions of marital aid from suspiciously handsome former surf persons. I shall also not accept delivery of advertisements of divers pharmaceuticals of a highly personal nature and solicitations of funds from putative scions of Nigerian royalty. I will entertain all reasonable queries and endeavour to return them (however I make no promises about promptitude).
I will stare aghast at all unreasonable queries and will mock spelling and grammatical errors, so be warned, be polite and be neat.
However, if I receive too much of what Messers Monty and Python sang of so mournfully - that is, "Wonderful Spam, Beautiful Spam" I shall turn off the interweb mail thingy and it will go back to accepting missives only from within the (Ruddy) Americans On Line thingy.
Therefore I may be contacted at mrsblubridge (at) ruddyamericansonline dot com and so forth - yes, it is in disguise; you must work it out for yourselves. I expect that cheeky monkey Smart Ken will get in first.
Anything truly odd, frightful or disturbing shall be reported to the appropriate persons at the originating Interweb thingy.
I must tell you, most of my advice to the lovelorn consists of "Get a hobby, or get a little dog, or preferably get a dog-related hobby." So unless you are really desperate or allergic to dogs you should probably not ask that one as it's an old wheeze we Publicanatrices hear all too often.
I should just like to note for the record that Publicanatrices certainly do not vote Tory or its' nearest equivalent in the former Colonies.
6 comments:
dear miz b:
with my previous background as an administrative assistant, i will be happy to screen the massive influx of mail that you will no doubt receive. on two conditions...one, that we can post the funnier ones in the ladies snuggery....and 2. that you up my salary by 2 dozen hazlenut truffles a week. we can, of course, negotiate these terms. *nods*
should the current economic growth that we are experiencing continue to be upwardly mobile, might i suggest that we discuss sending one of the girls to school for a business degree? that way, not only will it remove a great burden from your shoulders, but we shall also be able to keep the business in the family. so to speak. your success is our success; i think the current family members grasp that concept quite well. that last lil come-to-jesus meeting (aka the staff meeting) brought that point clearly home. it straightened out a few things and sanded some rough edges, i do believe. oh, the minutes for that meeting are in your in-box, complete with signed compliance forms from all of the employees. at first i was a lil hesitant, but now i certainly see the wisdom of havin' them signed in blood. *nods* fortunately, *just a lil prick* is a term most of the girls have heard before.
snuggs
snuggs,
I did not just hear you say that last sentance!
I thought your "Mama" raised you better than that.
heheheheh.......
*hangs head* it's amazin' the things one will say when one is dead on one's feet....or fully conscious in one's shroud. that's my story and i'm stickin' to it. *nods*
Rather like that jest comparing the balloon to virginity. I shall leave it to my patrons' and patronesses' imaginations to supply the punch line.
snuggs, excellent suggestions. I shall start a scholarship fund.
You know Miz b. I was just looking at that picture. You know that little fellow's hat is blown away and you certainly have a little evil look in your eyes. Just what was in that drink? Or was it something you said?
myrtle
As I recall, it was about the 6th stiff grog. Still, you can see he looks quite happy about rapidly becoming paralytic with drink - as I recall, that was his stated goal for the evening's entertainment.
There was something else on his mind, which was why I directed him to Christmas Steps. It's all "ye olde gifte shoppes" now, full of tea towels and winsome little porcelain Pekes, but then it was rather a rum place. Right up his alley, so to speak.
I was simply pleased to have such an obviously customer, because if he didn't end up in the brig, he would surely tell his mates about the nice little grog shoppe with the fine tipples. Sadly, end up in the brig he did, but fortunately the shore patrol became good customers.
Post a Comment