You've not been paying attention, Fred old sausage harumph harumph. Madeleine (I've probably spelt it wrong again, for which I apologise) has been quietly in our midst for several years now and right this second is stealthily approaching your chair from behind with an evil grin, a brandy snifter in one hand and a rolled up broadsheet in the other, the latter to fetch you one across the chrome-dome. If I'm not mistaken, I believe she intends to rightfully polish your monocle, old boy! HaHaaa!

Welcome Heather! Don't get balled up in our old-man complaints, though (if I might be so bold), but enjoy the laughs, too. You'll pardon my sense of humour which I really don't intend to temper for your benefit any more than I do for any other member of this august club, but I might keep a checked bit on the schoolboy potty-humour.

Then again, perhaps not! GRIN!


("He's mad, you know. Quite mad...")