That pure Cane Spirit since 1848.

Friday, March 20, 2009


Rockall, Sodall, Bogall…
Carlyle said that the meanest object is a window into infinitude and Grayling remarks that to say that trifles make up the happiness or misery of human life is to voice a cliché no less true for being one.
Dover, Fastnet, fishnet…

I have a young charge who worries me. He is unworldly and besotted with a knowing girl. She has him twirled around her finger leading him a merry dance. I often want to spank her; she has such a way of flicking her skirts at me as she brushes past. She is incorrigible. To make matters worse, this girl is a prodigy and favourite of her aunt, a lady-friend of mine, so I see where matters will lead.

As you know, I have lived a life after my own lights. A disastrous car crash of a life; fuelled by strong drink and a misplaced laissez-faire attitude to money and women.
Often, I have been found vomiting twin writhing serpents of guilt and alcohol down others’ pristine toilet bowls. And always, with the last aching heave, the viper of guilt releases her entwined twin, to slide backwards into my mouth, to rest calm and comfortable somewhere inside me, for another day, for another disaster. No emetic will shift that one. Not she.
A costly burden to be borne, “In Perpetua”.

To remind me, I had a trifle run up at Asprey’s. A ring I wear now and then when I feel vulnerable. It was to this ring, that I referred when I took my young charge aside to advise:

“Do you see this ring, Ewan?"
“What of it?"
“Do you see how it is formed?”
“Do you see how the two serpents are encoiled around an emerald named “Bile”?
“It’s ‘the ring of Barahir’, Uncle Ack”
“Aragorn’s ring”
“No, it's Asprey’s.”
“Lord of the Rings merchandising.”
“No it’s not, it’s mine - This viper is called ‘Guilt’…”
“You can get them on eBay for £30. All the Trekkies wear them.”
“Right, here’s £50. Fuck off out of it for an hour and take Jane Marie with you.”


Pat said...

You have to let the young learn from their own mistakes Uncle Ack.
Short for Achmed?

sarah said...

dear uncle achilles:

"young men become besotted with me on a constant basis.. i cannot help but flick my skirts as i understand not - how to entertain men otherwise. that's all i am.. a skirt. nothing more."

do you think all women, at one point or another use their sex to get what they want?

i know i have. and i still do. (sometimes)


sarah said...

PS - the LOTR reference.. funny beyond words.

Ms Scarlet said...

Always carry a Toilet Duck.
An ancient Vermilion proverb.

Mrs Pouncer said...

Disappointing. Very. As you know, Jane Marie is my favourite niece; everything that girl knows, she learnt at my knee. And why on earth should you want to spank her? She's far too old for that sort of discipline! Why ever would you want to bend her over, raise her skirt and belabour her bottom with the flat of your hand, or some sort of leather paddle available from Anne Summers? The whole thing is beyond reason.
The fault lies firmly with the oaf, Ewan. Why you waste time with that no-user is a mystery.

Mrs Pouncer said...

And Scarlet, don't you wish it was LAVATORY Duck instead? I know I do.

Ms Scarlet said...

Or a Lav Duck... or even a Lavey Duck...

Dr Maroon said...

Pat really? Would you have a child grasp a bar on an electric fire? Well then. Which is the more crippling? answer me that. Short for Achilles.

Sarah, do you by God? And what was it that you wanted and exactly how did you use sex to get it? I only ask because it has never worked for me. Mind you, I AM one ugly bastard.

Yeah LOTR got a lot to answer for.

Toilet duck? Why does that resonate with me? Toilet duck. Lavvy Duck I think you will find Scarls. DoubleV

Dr Maroon said...

It's for her own good. I'll put her over my knee, and a couple of stingers on her wonderful, beautiful buttocks, and Bob's your uncle. I prefer the flat of my hand, because it means I can administer a soothing massage to the affected area afterwards, post punis as it were. I wonder how much these paddles cost?

I agree, Ewan is a complete arse and a no-user par exellence. What's more, he is forever skint! I know, I've found his thin wallet lying around a few times now.

sarah said...

Maroon - it's a terribly long and quite boring story.. i wouldn't want to bother you with it..

Mrs Pouncer said...

Great Scotia, Maroon! How would I know the cost of such a vile implement? What sort of depraved Jezebel would have this sort of information? Scarlet, I suppose.

And I think the product you need is called Lav-a-Duck, actually.

sarah said...

Mrs. P, i refuse to believe you wouldn't know such information.

every classy lady has a naughty side.

Ms Scarlet said...

Oh, sorry... no... I'm not quite that depraved and I prefer electrical devices.

Kim Ayres said...

Give young Ewan a ring with "The inside of this ring tells the truth" written on the outside, and "The outside of this ring is lying" on the inside.

He'll have hours of fun with it.

xerxes said...

(1) So Ack's short for Achilles. What's Maroon short for?

(2) Jane Marie is the name of my cousin the marchioness.

(3) Does the emerald match your eyes? Or does the bile?

Mrs Pouncer said...

Inky! We must be related. By my calculations, this makes you my nephew on the distaff side, or my son. Lots more for the conspiracy theorists to get their teeth into here, by God!

Dr Maroon said...

Sobeit Sarah, wouldn't want to pry.

Scarls always always check for the British kite mark on electrical appliances especially of the lady kind. It's your seal of approval.

Kim he already has a ring. It's through his nose and he is being led to the slaughter by it.

Inky,Maroon is short for most exceptional gentleman. I knew she was a marchioness, your cousin? maybe. It matches the bile of course.

Dr Maroon said...

Clarissa, I assumed it would be in the Army and Navy catalogue near the fly swats, just after the four piece picnic baskets with compartments for three spirits and four mixers.

Mrs Pouncer said...

What, next to the Caddy-Matic* and the Ronson Hood 'n Comb Hair Dryer*? Well, you're wrong. The A & N wouldn't have stocked such an appalling appendage, and I should know. When I worked in Villiers Street I would buy my lunch from the A & N foodhall. Lowlier colleagues would go to a disreputable sandwich farmer, and some puerile souls would sit at their desks with hardboiled eggs. But I had the spirit of the Empire coursing through, and yearned for Coronation Chicken, or something with corned beef.

*Pat will be able to reference these accountrements for young people and Americans.