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January 24, 2008


Mr. Peperium

See? What I say is true. If we would all just model our conduct after characters in P. G. Wodehouse, life would be so much simpler.

Without the model of Psmith's lofty amusement constantly before me, I doubt if I could get through a single day.

And without the sterling example of Uncle Fred's resource and unblushing, stop-at-nothing spirit of invention constantly before you, your dear goddaughter would be dating a perishing outsider who, for all we know, bases his CD collection on the reviews in Maxim.

Mrs. Peperium

Hells bells, I once dated a guy who wore Greek fisherman sandals, Yasser Arafat scarf, and a pin on his lapel that said "I read banned books".

Robbo the Llama Butcher

Good Heavens, I've got three daughters and two Goddaughters, all of whom are going to blossom into extremely beautiful and accomplished young women before you can say, "What, ho!"

With the legions of worthless young cads that I'm sure will be hovering about them, I've an idea that I'm going to wind up most resembling old Tom Travers after eating lobster!

Robbo the Llama Butcher

I strongly suspect that with respect to the shoals of worthless young cads that inevitably will hang about my three daughters and two Goddaughters, all of whom are going to turn into beautiful and accomplished young women before you can say, "What, ho!" the Wodehouse character that I'm going to most resemble is old Tom Travers after he ate lobster.

Old Dominion Tory

A nicely turned play, Basil.
However, I cannot understand why today's young cads advertise their caddishness with their ridiculous haircuts. Their dubious tonsorial choices immediately and obviously telegraph their unworthiness, undercutting their chance to make it past parents, godparents, and other guardians who have less finely tuned senses as our dear Sir Basil.


I personally think the mullet is where it's at...


Mrs. Peperium

You guys are terrible. Just terrible. Men are more than their clothes otheriwise I should never have married the guy in the Greek fishermen sandals, Yasser Arafat scarf sporting the "I read banned books" lapel pin. Also, you have to be careful as to what Basil judges as a "ridiculous haircut". It may just mean a guy with hair.

And young guys don't need facial creme...they still have their all their natural oils intact...

Basil Seal

Not at all Mrs. P...Remember, I had it when I needed it...

Mrs. Peperium

You keep reminding me of this Basil. But it is wearing a tad thin, don't you think?

Old Dominion Tory

Mrs. Peperium:
I trust Mr. Peperium was not trying to be a cad in his greener days. He was just trying to maintain his status as a fully paid-up member of the Bolshie boho crowd. Hence, his . . . ah . . . interesting attire.
The squirt who Sir Basil saw through instantly and sent off without breaking a sweat is a pseudo-cad, an oxygen-stealing example of how today's young aspiring cads are pale imitations of the cads of yesterday. Truly, I cannot see many women being bamboozled by any of the poorly dressed and poorly barbered young men who think themselves cads. Moreover, I cannot conceive of them developing into the likes of Terry Thomas.

Mrs. Peperium

You mean the Terry Thomas who bears an uncanny likeness to Basil, don't you?


While it was all good, nice and somewhat honorable for what Basil did for his goddaughter. But when you think about it, he told the young cad his goddaugther was mentally ill. For pete's sake, cads do talk you know. You know cads talk a lot. Basil might have harmed his goddaughter's chances at a good man. I think he owes her big. Uncle Fred would come up with a nice guy right about now. I think Basil has to cough one up. Besides doesn't he think she's capabable of knowing a goon when she sees one? Gosh. I mean really.

Old Dominion Tory

Precisely the Terry Thomas I meant, Mrs. Peperium.

Mr. Peperium

I'm with Mrs. P...and not just because I have to be.

I agree that, having muddied the marital pool for his Goddaughter, at a moment when she has just moved to town barely got her feet wet, so to speak, puts him in a position where noblesse pretty much has to oblige.

If Basil is so hot at sniffing out the ersatz, he should be equally gifted at flagging the genuine article.

Old Dominion Tory

Indeed, Sir Basil does seem to have taken on a weighty obligation insofar as his goddaughter's future happiness is concerned.
He should consider this mission properly--at his club and over a snifter and a long lunch. Perhaps, some older members might be able to help him with sagacious advice.

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