A small but proud Baltic Duchy of the 18th Century.
Monday, May 24, 2010
Disaster!
Some would call it a disaster but after some mucking about in the Middle East and being blown off course our ships have made land fall on the "Dark Continent." How will this affect the Duchy? We will see. ( Been busy here in Iraq)
The "Dark Continent"... what will the stout-hearted Indurans find there? King Solomon's mines? The mysterious chefferie of Afrodizia (a whole tribe of Black Amazons)? The lost land of Ayesha, "She-who-must-be-obeyed"? The kingdom of Prester John? British insurance brokers? Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition...
One can only dream and hope: only time will tell...
'Empurpled with rage, Captain Drumthumper turned on the hapless Master. "You blithering nincompoop," he bellowed, "Look where you have fetched us up! Does this look like India to you? EH? Eh? Is that aroma that wafts up our nostrils redolent of the spicy East? Do you see temples upon which cavort statues of fat-chested females? Do you see carried upon richly caparisoned pachyderms fabulously wealthy maharajahs in bejewelled turbans? "Sir, you do not! Why? Because you have steered us to this benighted coast you..." words failed him for the moment, "You... you no-sailor, you!" Turning his back upon the ashen Master, Drumthumper stamped over to windward rail and drew forth his spyglass...'
Glad to read you again!
ReplyDeleteThe "Dark Continent"... what will the stout-hearted Indurans find there? King Solomon's mines? The mysterious chefferie of Afrodizia (a whole tribe of Black Amazons)? The lost land of Ayesha, "She-who-must-be-obeyed"? The kingdom of Prester John? British insurance brokers? Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition...
ReplyDeleteOne can only dream and hope: only time will tell...
Cheers,
Jean-Louis
'Empurpled with rage, Captain Drumthumper turned on the hapless Master.
ReplyDelete"You blithering nincompoop," he bellowed, "Look where you have fetched us up! Does this look like India to you? EH? Eh? Is that aroma that wafts up our nostrils redolent of the spicy East? Do you see temples upon which cavort statues of fat-chested females? Do you see carried upon richly caparisoned pachyderms fabulously wealthy maharajahs in bejewelled turbans?
"Sir, you do not! Why? Because you have steered us to this benighted coast you..." words failed him for the moment, "You... you no-sailor, you!"
Turning his back upon the ashen Master, Drumthumper stamped over to windward rail and drew forth his spyglass...'