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The Journal of the Society for Prematurely Bemused Gentlefolk.

Destined to be a footnote in his own autobiography.

The One known as D.T.
27 April 1965
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  • colonel_maxim@livejournal.com
Born, I am told, at about the age of zero somewhere beyond the Pale, I have bimbled and blustered my way through life until I have washed up, a barely coherent wreck, within the dignified confines of the Athenaeum Club. Whilst my confrere caddyman provides the Garrison Keillor gentle amble through the vagaries of life and existence within North London, I regard it as my role to provide more of a P.J. O'Rourke rant (although without the wit, talent and illegal drugs).

Everything said within should be taken with a considerable pinch of salt as offence is very rarely intended. As the Immortal Bard, the great W.S. himself put it:-

"If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, and all is mended,
That you have but slumber'd here
While these visions did appear.
And this weak and idle theme,
No more yielding but a dream,
Gentles, do not reprehend:
if you pardon, we will mend"

Damn it, that William Shatner was a great writer.

I would like to credit andysocial for the rather fine animated userpics.