5 More Things The Masses Do Which Annoy Me

A picture of our esteemed author

Well, the well has seemingly run dry for a bit. Going through an imagination drought aside from the ideas that are being reserved for my second book. Luckily, as I was trying to think of something to make up for the site, I received an e-mail from the estimable Reginald St Smythe-Smythington Holst-Dulverton BA, MA, PhD, MD, JD. It seems his shrink has asked him to write another list, and he’s seen fit to send it to me. Thus:

From the desk of Reginald St Smythe-Smythington Holst-Dulverton BA, PhD, MD, JD; transcribed by his typing servant, Froderick Raleigh:

It has come to a head, so to speak. On a recent outing outside of my manor’s grounds and into the festering cesspool of the working class that is Canterbury, I happened upon a “festival” of sorts. While–no doubt–the gathered unwashed masses there believed they were doing whatever it is the working class does whenever they feel compelled to stain the day with their presence, I had another reaction: Severe revulsion. To wit, I nearly vomited upon my driver, but managed to avoid such an embarrassing event.

After concluding my business in that wretched pit, I phoned my psychiatrist and told him to be ready for an emergency appointment. He protested that it was his day off, or some such nonsense, but then I dangled an extra four hundred pounds in front of his face and his protestations ceased.

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