Chaos, and a return to the sanitarium

Let me open, dear reader, by entreating your pardon. I have neglected this  missive greatly in recent days, and while I do regret my delinquency, I am sure that the reasons for it are quite evident. As you have no doubt noted, the adversities in my life have accumulated rather rapidly as of late. Between my railway apprenticeship, the arrival of Ernestine Strothnuttle and a brief but horrific peasant's uprising, I have found myself faced with a veritable gob of hardships. And without a nourishing diet or the companionship of my dear chum Crispin (who has been away in the colonies) to support me, I collapsed under the weight of the chaos.

Yes, even we worldly gentlemen of hearty constitutions can fall prey to mental exhaustion, and it was thus that I found myself whisked off to the sanitarium, that very same place where we visited my Aunt Lavinia only a few weeks prior. And while I cannot say that the sanitarium director at first showed much enthusiasm at my arrival, I was afforded top-notch treatment, and returned home this evening feeling much restored.

Plenty has transpired in my absence, and there is much to be addressed -- not least of which is the latest piece of prevarication that the penny dailies are circulating. But this all must wait until the restoration of my health is complete. Though I have returned home, I am still subject to the sanitarium's strict recovery regimen, and must be off now to take my nightly bran bath.

Comments

[Madame M]

My dearest man!

It is ever so refreshing to read another one of your missives! I earnestly hope your time at the sanatorium is a heavenly one, and that the bran baths (and perhaps a colonic or two?) will do your body and soul some good.

Respectfully,

Madame M.

[Reginald Smythe-Westcott, esq.]

I say, old man, glad to hear you'll soon be on the mend and right as rain again. Same d--ned thing happened to me a few years back; had to spend a summer taking the waters at Baden-Baden. Worse places to be, what what? Chin up, and all that, old boy. Your gentle readership awaits your imminent return.

[tarzanman82]

Ol Foppy needs to make a return, for my pleasure alone.

[Lord Maximillion of Doffenshire]

Dear sir,
Your absence has left void that is quite irreplacable. The penny dailies are running rampant in your absence. Wigglesworth and his minions have had their way for far too long my dear man. We need to hear from you on a regular basis, sir.

[Lord Byron of Yorkenshiresquare]

I concur with Lord Maximillion is his previous comment. Quite right! I am driven my to the very depths of boredom, amusing myself by entertaining stuffy aristocrats at my weekly galas, where my only pleasures consist of various spiced meats and the sharp tongue and wit of a certain Lord Basil (who adores your missive, by the way). Societal dribble bores me so, and I take my relief only the recent memory of an agreeable experience…

This was probably the morning of last Tuesday where I was pleasantly surprised to find that the syphilitic sores (that had been troubling me to no end) had finally taking a leave from betwixt my legs where they had been residing for a not less then a fortnight! I was so gleeful that I jumped and beamed with joy, rapping my skull on an overhang that juts ever so slightly into the vicinity of my latrine, knocking over my rather expensive collection of sensual scented oils and waxes! This surprised me so as I had just been complaining to my manservant that they were bound to put me in the grave. What a gleeful delight, and we had ourselves a good proverbial roll in the hay to celebrate!

[Ben]

This is bullshit. Give me more posts!

[fatty]

The world goes to Hades as you neglect your missive duties