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Pretentious Pontifications, Part III

David is engrossed in some video game. It is called Alter Ego, and it is more than 15 years old. I guess when you lack adequate equipment, you have to get your kicks in whatever way you can.
David, get into the 20th century and get a Pentium IV, please. You are embarrassing me. At least get a Pentium 4 1.5 GHz. Then you would be able to play games from 1990 without sitting around and drumming your fingers.

But I digress. It runs in the family. David is worse about it, of course. I have been getting lots of fan mail, and I do have to say I really appreciate it. The kind epistles have been the source of many frissons in recent days. I also appreciate the creative ways people send it. One message was attached to a brick, hurled through a window of my estate in Ladue. I also received a message in a bottle. It was written on a rag, then doused with pellucid–but not potable–alcohol, stuffed into the bottle and lit on fire to get my attention. I would have been almost lachrymose, but unfortunately, I was unable to put the fire out quickly enough, and by the time I did extinguish it, the alcohol had washed out the message.

I appreciate the gesture, but obviously the person who did it had too much nescience to realize the deleterious effect the alcohol would have on the message. But that is certainly curable. Bask in my apposite genius long enough, and it will start to rub off on you. I know, I really should write more often, so you might have more opportunity. Once I have built up an audience (maybe David’s addiction to old computer games is useful for something after all), I will have to branch out on my own and open up a pay site.

So, whoever you are, thank you, I adore you too, but if you want to show your adoration, try delivering the message in another way. Perhaps you should take after the gentleman who tied up my quondam manservant long enough to express his love with desuetuded soap on my dashing Rolls. The message was mostly maledictions, unctuous of course.

I do not recommend, however, that you attempt to give me a 21-gun salute all by yourself outside my front gate. Unfortunately, gunshots are strictly prohibited in Ladue, so my adoring fan was promptly arrested. It is very unfortunate that I was not at home at the time. I would have tried to exculpate him by explaining to the officer what he was doing.

But tomorrow is another day, and I am quite sure that the claques will continue.

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4 thoughts on “Pretentious Pontifications, Part III”

  1. I see R. Collins is feeling very multi-syllabic today. And – good show – he didn’t reveal his Fenton upbringing by using the contraction "y’all". You see, some may *live* in Ladue, but some of us *are* Ladue, despite living where land is more plentiful.

    It is entirely possible that the bottle of "alcohol" was a gift of brandy with an obsequious message attached. The person who delivered it could have accidentally enflamed the paper with his cigar ashes and left, unmindful of his faux pas. And let me say that R. Collins’ taste in spirits gravitates toward the moonshine end of the spectrum, so a fine brandy to him is probably not "potable".

    I believe R. Collins is confusing his license plate with his hood ornament again. The ROLLS vanity plate under the reflective orange triangle does not change the "John Deere" emblazoned on the front grille of your vehicle, sir. Truly, the Amish must use the passing lane when you’re on the road.

    I was hoping to delay this announcement, to properly prepare the press release and arrange the dinner party. When not engaged in writing short concertos or tending to the wine cellar, I devote some time to my own future web site. Pre-dating R. Collins’ pedestrian venture, the work on this site has been extensive, the styling exquisite, so as to attract only the information technology connoisseur. In my typical fashion, I will offer insightful comments to the public. The true art, however, will be behind the velvet curtain of a pay system, which patrons can pull aside with a simple credit card payment or Swiss bank withdrawal. To do otherwise would cheapen the value I provide.

    I will certainly recommend R. Collins’ new venture. Considering his heritage and prosaic intellect, his social status truly is an achievement. We shall see if he can translate that to the web, without the crutch of his plebeian brother.

  2. What Jacques Wannabe Pierre Wannabe Cousteau Wannabe Vermouth Wannabe Bouillabaisse Wannabe le Raunch Wannabe de la Stenche failed to mention is that the John Deere tractor with a vanity plate (from Illinois, no less) showed up at my Ladue estate unannounced one day, probably at his bidding. I sent it back with a note that said he should use it to clean up the mess his dog leaves on his airstrip, which is then transferred to my private Tu-144.

    And while he thumbs his nose at my Ladue estate, it is out of insane jealousy. I own many estates. Just as Raunche’s estate has many rooms dedicated to a set purpose, I have many estates dedicated to a set purpose. My fans happen to have only discovered my Ladue estate. (Where do you think I was when I missed the aborted 21-gun salute? The grocery store? Please.)

  3. Did you use (the flaky) Mozilla Mail to type my name, or a Microsoft product (Outlook, Outlook Express – unlikely)? Or were you, as I suspect, simple being puerile? You don’t see me called you “Cola Boy” because your initials are R.C. now, do you? This is what happens when wealth is acquired outside of inheritance…

    It is true that I generously donated the tractor to Farquhar Farms, though when it was sent back, it had a grass mowing attachment that I did *not* originally send. A courier was sent on an urgent mission to request the return of this machinery. But why muddle the truth with the facts? In any case, I was only celebrating your rural heritage. I suppose the thatch roof I was *going* to have installed for you this winter would have been rudely rejected.

    I, too, have many estates, but I don’t feel it necessary to flaunt this fact in some public urinary exhibition. You can see the lack of forethought in R. Collins’ approach. To partake in another activity, he must be transported in his plaid Cadillac from estate to estate. My approach is superior. I can be eclectic and partake in several activities at any given estate. If I want a change of scenery, I merely move at whim. But I do not expend energy traveling needlessly since I have everything I need, everywhere.

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