TO OUR MOST NOBLE AND virtuous correspondent KAY,
Elizabeth her humble co-blogette wisheth perpetual felicity and everlasting joy.
We had a most trying evening.
These ragamuffins appeared, one boldly claiming to be Slash, a member of the band Guns ‘n’ Roses. We pointed out that the Slash we admire so deeply is at least a foot taller, and still this one declared himself the one true Slash.
We attended a function where our consort, Merle Hazard, performed droll songs of a financial nature. We do feel most tender toward our vagabond minstrel, though his belt buckle which we coveted most dearly was found to our dismay to be of paste. Otherwise, we would be wearing this buckle on this very day.
This impertinent girl claimed to be the queen. She has been removed to the lowest depths of the Tower.
We suppose the evening was amusing to those who favor carnival atmosphere and tomfoolery.
Tin Man with a cell phone. Think of all the trouble THAT bit of technology could have saved the guy.
Many beasts were arrayed as fairies, ladybugs, bumblebees, and here, a chicken. Pitiable creatures. So put upon!
Nostradamus predicted that we would die. Such a pall he cast. We had him removed to the second-lowest depths of the Tower.
A commoner clad as an inflated sumo wrestler had the gall to suggest that Her Majesty’s accent varied considerably, from Helen Mirren to Eliza Doolittle to Posh Spice. And others noted that Her Majesty became quite blotchy as the evening progressed. These people! They have no idea what we endure! Off with their heads, the lot of them!
From suburban Nashville, the first day of November
of the year of our Lord, 2007.