Although genuinely saddened by the
sudden passing of my favourite member of the Cabinet, Lord Williams of Mostyn, I was fascinated to learn that he was born in a taxi. An earlier and more scandalous Labour peer, Lord Bradwell (better known as
Tom Driberg), famously died in one.
What I want to know is whether any of the surviving Labour peers is prepared to get married in a taxi (the ideal venue, really, so long as the bride and groom don’t have any mates) and, if so, to which to contributor to Ask A Drunk? (That roguish old fella Lord Stackpool of Sungazer has had his eye on CJ for some time, I believe…)
― Rex (Rex), Saturday, 20 September 2003 20:41 (twenty-two years ago)
I congratulate you, old boy. I notice you have posted the 200th question to this, the second (junior?) incarntion of Ask A Drunk. Or mayhaps, in view of the non-carnality of Internet forums, that should be 'instantiation'.
On second thought, no. Instantiation is an utterly horrid word, as ugly as my grandfather's nostrils (and he took snuff). Incarnation is far, far better. Reminds me of carnations, if you must know. A bit frilly, but essentially sound and of a good bloodline. Instantiation reminds me of powdered coffee for some reason. Don't ask me why. I just live here (heh-heh).
Now, as for that question. Jolly good one. Yes. Jolly good. A proper respect for the dead never did anyone any harm.
My late great uncle, Fontainbleu D'Alembert Aimless was wed on a white charger. This was quite soon after the taxis of Paris ferried the soldiers of France to the front lines in '14. He'd originally planned for a taxi wedding in Paris. No, wait. He married a taxi dancer, that was it. Name of Georgina. She claimed a relation to George III. Or was that a resemblance to him? No matter. Carry on.
― Aimless, Sunday, 21 September 2003 01:36 (twenty-two years ago)
Oddly enough my uncle Bardolph wed a white charger on St Swithin's day 1947. Le tout demi-monde a chippenham was there to see my uncle, arrayed in his best dress uniform plight his troth to his noble steed (who had also served time as a taxi, as well as sterling service at Agincourt, Ypres and during the second instalment of desert storm. As well as a cameo role in
Rising Damp). Very fine they both looked too, he with his frogging and braiding resplendent, she in finest wrought silver tack.
Sadly that day it rained frogs, and for forty days and forty nights thereafter. The family hasn't spoken to Auntie Shergar since.
― Matt (Matt), Monday, 22 September 2003 07:16 (twenty-two years ago)
Sometimes, down here in Erewhon, we lick frogs. Then we get naked and climb trees.
We are south of the river.
― Zen Clown (Zen Clown), Saturday, 27 September 2003 19:46 (twenty-two years ago)