Friday, August 28, 2009
I Say, What?
You're interfering with my naps.
AHEM. A WORD. IF I MIGHT. I don't mind saying, people are getting a bit exercised around here, what? Time to dial it all back a notch, I say. Too much frou frou, or whatever the term is. I don't mind when they make fun of me, which they do, and I can take a joke as well as the next chap, or I wouldn't laugh, or at least snort amicably the way I do, at argle-bargle like this, if that's the right term, when the old man says I'd be a cert in this event:
But, and I mean this in the kindest possible way, you people are a bit over the top, don't you know. We in the, what do you call it, "animal community" are more, um, er, what's the word, phlegmatic?
That doesn't sound right. Does anybody have a chip? Thought not.
Where was I? A chip? Thought not.
Excuse me. Sometime I lose my train of what-do-you-call-it? What? Thought. Which, if you don't mind my saying, there's far too much of. At any rate, there was something I wanted to show you, if I could only remember what it was...
Oh. This. There. You see. It makes everything marvelously clear, what?
Well, what I meant to point out is that we're not the way you show us in your adverts, now are we? Not like this anyway:
What? What? I don't mind admitting that unnerved me. Animals acting like people.
Oh hell. Completely forgot what comes next. But you're people.You figure it out. That's what you're supposed to be good at, what?
What's the word the old man keeps repeating when all I want is a chip? Settle. That's it. I say, settle.
Now if you'll excuse me, it's time for my nap, what? I say...
[ED. Well, Psmith has nodded off. Again. And, yes, I'm his "old man." I just wanted to clear up the "upper class twit" joke. It wasn't meant to be mean. He's as upper class as they come; it's just that he can never remember why. But his message about "dialing it back a notch" might very well be appropriate. I think. What?]