(no subject)

Jul 07, 2008 17:46

Previously.

BlvJLN;
    If You were Smirking, I wuld send BBart to Smite Mightily with his Hooves and Teeth of Thunder. Stop Smirking, the Enemy is as Terrifed by him as Aye. The Hourse is Obviously Possessed By Demons or Possibly Former Acquaintances Named Hector.
    In Fact of Truth, he is a Mightier Bastard than Either French or English or Irish, who I Assure You Shall Come From This War Victorious and Unexpected. That's right, Bastards, You Fight The Wrong Direction. The Madmen in the Cold are your Enemies, Not Us. We Live in the Warm, which is How You Can Tell. Go Home!
    And Remember, I Am No Traitor to Any Of You, for I am Spanish and my Parents Were Married, Most Probably.
    Things Look In A Way Unreportable, but which Calls To Mind a Need for Sea Turtles, Here. If You have Gained any influence, as I Am Sure You Have, Please Use it Accordingly. And May I Remind You that I too am Residing in Warm Climes, and instead Resent The Wet. No, I Resent You, not Wet. I Miss Wet. I Miss Wet a Great Deal, and also Miss Rum. Certain Cats Escaped my Fate, and have Stayed With Both, and so I Resent You Both. You and Cat, not Wet and Rum. I Resent Your Wet and Your Destination Implied and Somehow still Cannot Wish You Ill,

So Keep Your Wits,
            CJS

P.S. Bastards, Take Note: None Of That Were Code Either.

napoleonic wars, letters

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