Right. You know the drill by now -- you come here expecting timely, rollicking humor and you instead get directed here or to Dodgeblogium, where I'm attempting to yet again peddle my musty wares.
Well, I promise this is the (second) last time. I do have one more piece, previously unseen, from gnotalex's Big Box O' Chuckles that I plan to send up probably later this week assuming I can fight off the spiders guarding it and rewrite a few parts.
But some of the newcomers (thanks to Natalie Solent for linking to the piece immediately below) might want to check it out anyway.
It's superbly written, elegant and decorous, and it makes fun of the French.
Sure, making fun of the French is sort of like dynamiting geese in a barrel (the shocking secret behind that liver-flavored stuff you put on crackers), but someone's got to do it, and it might as well be me.
I meant making fun of the French, not dynamiting geese.
That would be unsporting.