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The Diary of The Lady (to whit: Me)

Dear Diary,

One (to whit: me, i.e. The Lady) is most exceedingly vexed. I (to whit: One) was most distressed to receive delivery of the portrait for One's (to whit: The Lady's) seventy-fifth living room here at Well-Bred Manor. This is not to say, of course that I (to whit: Me) have in any way been portrayed unflatteringly. Such a thing is surely impossible, given the remarkable natural beauty of myself (to whit: me). Any portrait artist is lucky indeed to have so easy a commission as to paint my (The Lady's) uniquely luminous face, not to mention the accompanying voluptuous figure. I (i.e. myself) said as much to The Personification of the Themesong From Titanic, who heartily agreed. The Miniature Model of a Scandinavian Elephant Who Sings a Line From a Popular Musical Every Second Sentence also agrees on the subject of One's (to whit: my) fabulous beauty, proclaiming (and this is a direct quote, i.e. what he actually said) "Why, Lady, you are surely the most attractive person who has ever beaten me senseless with a smoked trout! There's NO business like SHOWbusiness like NO business I KNOW!"

But, One (to whit: me) digresses rather from the subject matter. Though longwindedness is, as I (to whit: The Lady) have often remarked, a sign of breeding, the subject of my (to whit: One's) vexation must be documented. The portrait itself was most flattering, and I (to whit: The Lady) am sincerely pleased with it. The nose has perhaps been painted a little too large, but artisans, being uneducated wretches, cannot be expected to achieve perfection. The error was not with the portrait, but rather with its frame. Only seven-inches wide and made of SILVER! One (to whit: I) was so shocked I (to whit: One) had to lie down for all of seventeen days.

Of course, a gold frame of, at the very least fourteen and a half inches wide, was demanded, but the callous, greedy peasant demanded he be paid extra. Yes! Extra! Evidently, sensibly sized frames are not considered to be a part of the standard service. How is One (to whit: any personage of breeding) expected to display their immense good taste if not with enormous gold-trim? Shocking! Quite shocking!

I (i.e. The Lady) was so put out that One (to whit: myself) immediately dropped the Personification of the Themesong From Titanic off the roof of Well-Bred Manor and into the giant ant colony. He extricated himself, and immediately returned: he was thus promptly allowed to have meat-cleavers inserted under his toenails. He declared himself thoroughly deserving of punishment, and so I (to whit: The Lady) had no choice but to hit him in the head with a cardboard cut-out of Dick Cheney, remove his spleen with a crowbar, set him on fire and release him into the nest of a plague-ridden marmoset.

He is recovering well, and has spent much of the afternoon with a satisfied smile on his face.

Nothing has been done about the portrait of course. Still, One (to whit: persons of quality) must not grumble. Worse things happen to lepers.


( 2 comments! — Make Remark! )
Jul. 7th, 2007 11:40 pm (UTC)
Jul. 8th, 2007 12:16 am (UTC)
He is recovering well, and has spent much of the afternoon with a satisfied smile on his face.

The ultimate manifestation of "treat 'em mean", I suppose ...

Muchly enjoyed this :-)
( 2 comments! — Make Remark! )

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