As a man of the NEW century, I wear many hats. Indeed, I am a village unto myself. So believe me when I say that much of what I do is far too intricate for any of you to comprehend, so I won’t list my awesome endeavours as it would be like a great philosopher trying to explain epistemology to deaf infants. But just know that one of my roles is publisher of a sophisticated and intellectually challenging magazine that most of you could not begin to fathom. Part of my indispensable duties is to read mail from readers who seek to bathe in my GLORY. Below is an excerpt from such a letter.
Gentlemen,
I took your advice and set-to for a brief sojourn in Yellow Springs. I found the town to be a-bustle with touristy types and a motley collection of ne’er do wells (surely, you must feel right at home). The villagers are as wayward as wild donkeys but friendly and cheerful nonetheless. I found myself browsing the many shops, some of which offer colorful pipes and other smoking utensils. Curious thing though, all the quaint handmade signs read “for tobacco use only.” Sir, on what else would someone use these delicate pieces of smokery?
As with many letters that I receive, I burned this screed in the great fireplace at my lair.
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4 comments:
and what is the name of this magazine, pray tell?
for verily, i say unto you,
i need a subscription
like a prescription
for the hellish flu
of modern life.
Is your magazine a tractor magazine? Because I've heard you can make money making tractor magazines.
Tractor power! I've got power, smoke, and rumble!
And duels and magic events. Right Smith?
sir! this is an outrage. a scandal!
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