Today I met my good trader friend Philip. He is a very well respected fellow in the spice trade despite having only the one testicle. Heaven help him if he found himself having to shoot an albino fox with such a defective weapon but that is by the by.
We met at the club but Philip had something on his mind and suggested we walk and talk. There always has been something of the dandy about him, possibly his testicular lack?
We found ourselves on Oxford street among the common herd. I was smoking a particularly smooth tabac in my new pipe which was fashioned exclusively from the shin bone of an exhumed 18th Century German duke. I have affectionately dubbed it, The Bastard.
Philip was explaining to me how he was in a little difficulty with one of the maids in his house. He seemed a little angsty.
You know what it's like old fellow. At first I thought it was just the excitement of 'basting the beef' in a different oven you know?
I nodded and took an appreciative puff of The Bastard and dodged a fat fellow in a wig as we walked.
I exhaled grandly.
Of course old fellow. Let me guess and now the sleekit hussy is pressing you for something more permanent? Perhaps asking for the odd silver guinea?
Oh no old bean, it's not like that at all. It's a little more serious I am afraid...
I stopped dead in my tracks and took The Bastard from my mouth.
The hussy has a goose in the kennel?
Oh no, there is no goose in the kennel. I am afraid the failing is more on my part.
Doughnuts! Hot and tasty!
A young ragamuffin nearby shouted.
On your part? Nonsense. Have you tried giving her a damn good thrashing?
A thrashing, good lord no. It's... Well, its... I think I have fallen for her.
I stared at Philip. My cheek twitched quite uncontrollably.
You've fallen for her? A maid?
I took a long exasperated drag from The Bastard.
Doughnuts!
Shouted the ragamuffin only a few paces away.
Philip was blushing and no wonder, falling for a maid? This just wasn't gentlemanly. Yes, it's fine to park the pork bentley on Peasant Avenue but one must always be mindful of the meter.
Doughnuts, hot and.. yeeerk!
I grabbed the lapels of the doughnut selling ragamuffin and flung him and his tray of doughnuts under a passing bus.
The accompanying crump and scream was quite satisfying to the ear.
I placed an arm around Philip's shoulders, he flinched like a one testicled pig seeing the butchers block.
I am glad you came to me Pip. I can help you with this situation. Can I ask you... Do you trust me?
Yes old chap. I would trust you with my life.
I reached into my coat pocket and pulled forth a box from which I extricated two small pills.
Here. These were gifted me by a shaman I helped in the Americas. These will sort the problem out. You just have to trust me. You and your lady maid. Take these at the same time at midnight tonight. You will find the answer together.
I offered him a puff of The Bastard. He took it and breathed deep. I winked.
Don't worry old fellow.
But what do they do?
I patted him on the back and gave him a knowing smile.
Trust me old bean. Can you do that?
Of course old fellow. Thanks ever so much for this.
Philip gratefully tucked the little pills into a pocket.
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Myself and an old friend Humphrey watched as the casket was lowered into the sodden hole in the ground.
Humphrey snorted through like walrus-like moustache.
Dreadful business this. Found with the maid they say. The maid! Seems that they took poison together.
I nodded, taking a solemn puff of The Bastard.
A dreadful business indeed. No way for a gentleman to go...
I leaned close to Humphrey and muttered in a conspiratorial tone.
Of course, you do know he only had one ball...
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I supped a brandy by the fireside and pondered the folly of love. I felt relieved that I was able to help those young lovers and my thoughts turned to my fellow steemians.
Time to fire up the contrivance of circuitry and see what was waiting.
Spamfarmer1: Hey do you want to join a discord pump and dump group im in ? We are going to be doing a huge pump on bittrex tonight. Heres the group chat link
shitdiscordlink
Uncle Boom: I have an arse for a biscuit tin, would you like to reach in and grab one?
Spamfarmer1: ?
Uncle Boom: Fuck off shit cock.
Hmm, no response to my amazing 75% swear words sentence? Boo hiss.
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Spamfarmer2: Hi I featured you in a post, would love to hear what you think. shitpostlink
Uncle Boom: I think that myself and the other hundred odd people you have tagged in your post think you are a dick.
Spamfarmer2: ok
Uncle Boom: Thank you.
Well, I do apologise my dear readers. There was difficulty getting the shitposters to engage this week. Most distressing.
Oh well. Remember, if you have a problem that requires a delicate advisement contact me on the interchats and remember...
