The Country Estate.

  1. The Earl of Twatshire
    KitKat May 21, 2015

    The Earl of Twatshire , May 21, 2015 :
    I'm afraid I've had to lay a little low as of late my good man, the local constabulary have been watching me.


  2. ronoldo
    KitKat May 21, 2015

    ronoldo , May 21, 2015 :
    What ho! I'm OK... How are you?:)

  3. The Earl of Twatshire
    KitKat May 21, 2015

    The Earl of Twatshire , May 21, 2015 :
    Ah my friend, the whole Chem trail conspiracy is a bit of a hot topic with the good people of Twatshire. I have to admit that the entire thing confuses me, but my townsfolk are rather obsessed with it.

    I think I may even know the gentleman that was in this video. If I'm not mistaken he is a butterfly farmer, which is why he had such an in depth knowledge about the life cycle and breeding habit of the butterfly.

    The sad thing is, he farms these creatures for their torsos, and serves them in "The Butterfly Sandwich Shoppe" in Twatshire. I wouldn't recommend eating there.


  4. strafer
    Lollipop May 21, 2015

    Ceasedd, ronoldo, Master Hand and 2 others like this.
  5. The Earl of Twatshire
    KitKat May 21, 2015

    The Earl of Twatshire , May 21, 2015 :
    I allow all visitors to my country estate. Guests, unwanted guests, trespassers and urban explorers.

    My only warning is, "If you are next expected, you are expected to be able to run"

    But it is a lovely photo, I just need dogs to fill it.


    GopalB., Ceasedd, ChrisTerp and 2 others like this.
  6. The Earl of Twatshire
    KitKat May 21, 2015

    The Earl of Twatshire , May 21, 2015 :
    Why thank you my good man, I do try to live by my wits.

    I shall attempt to record a rousing rendition of the Twatshire anthem, should I get time, but the chances are, I will begin the attempt and then get drunk...


  7. zepphead
    Lollipop May 21, 2015

    zepphead , May 21, 2015 :
    If i may impose on you m'lud, i am looking for an informational guide called 'The idiots guide to being a Gigolo' @ronoldo suggest that it is within your area of expertise. Can you possibly help?

  8. thechosin44
    KitKat May 21, 2015

    thechosin44 , May 21, 2015 :
    I am honored sir, quite a fascinating tale

  9. The Earl of Twatshire
    KitKat May 21, 2015

    The Earl of Twatshire , May 21, 2015 :
    Honoured? What? Where? Who?


    (The Author of the Earl of Twatshire tips his hat to you. He is also going to be using other posts on this thread for inspiration for his gibberish)

  10. feluda
    Lollipop May 21, 2015

    feluda , May 21, 2015 :
    Doing OK. Don't see you around as often.

    Ceasedd and ronoldo like this.
  11. H1m@nshu
    Gingerbread May 21, 2015

    Ceasedd and ronoldo like this.
  12. funmunke
    Marshmallow May 21, 2015

  13. The Earl of Twatshire
    KitKat May 21, 2015

    The Earl of Twatshire , May 21, 2015 :
    Oh dear, another deposit?

    I shall send my imaginary butler out there this instant.

    Today he shall clean it using a cooking spatula and a cheese grater.

    I shall watch with a drink to see how he copes.


    dreniacdre, Ceasedd, Athena and 4 others like this.
  14. Nosoliciting
    Honeycomb May 21, 2015

    Nosoliciting , May 21, 2015 :
    Tush, tush, what's this that stabs upon my eyeballs? I return from the island of melancholy to witness the technicolor dream coat ramblings of Twatshire, Earl? Perhaps the two toed man that lives in the hot air ballon was indeed correct. Salutations and a gift basket that hot air balloon man shall receive.
    Two toasts for our auteur of brain imaginariary!!! Bit of advice, stay away from the marmalade, Auntie Brilda had "personal time" with it's contents. Also, stay away from the toast, it's actually a skin collection.
    Also, any chance your butler with be attending the bi annually half quarterly jamboree? Reginald placed his staff on a pilgrimage to Detroit. Something about recycling concrete. Regardless, a opening is available and this year's Decathlon of Degradation could use a real non competitor.
    Be well, kiwi season is upon us.
    I've been pooping in the bushes.

    Ceasedd, Athena, ronoldo and 4 others like this.
  15. strafer
    Lollipop May 21, 2015

    strafer , May 21, 2015 :
    Now we must not wonder any more why the old boxwood is loosing all the leaves.

    Ceasedd and ronoldo like this.
  16. feluda
    Lollipop May 22, 2015

  17. The Earl of Twatshire
    KitKat May 22, 2015

    The Earl of Twatshire , May 22, 2015 :
    Why thank you for your kind words my good man, I appreciate your well written words.

    I am slightly concerned however, @funmunke is also fouling my hedgerow, I do hope you are not working as a dirty team there.


    Ceasedd, pipecpa, ronoldo and 3 others like this.
  18. The Earl of Twatshire
    KitKat May 22, 2015

    The Earl of Twatshire , May 22, 2015 :
    I realised that things were a lot more dire than I initially had thought. There I was stranded in the middle of the Twatshire Desert, no food, no water, no alcohol.

    Have you ever noticed that sometimes in life, when things are going badly someone always says "At least things can't get any worse?"

    I had this happen to me earlier today, and the moment she said those fateful words, things went from bad to terrible. If you will allow me dear reader, I will tell my tale.

    There I was at Twatshire University, overseeing the graduation ceremony of the three students that had managed to pass their university education. Now, when I mean university education, the education system here in Twatshire is a little different to the rest of the world. In normal society a university degree is handed out to individuals that have studied for a long time and proven that they have a significant amount of expertise in their chosen field.

    In Twatshire, passing a university degree means that you can repeat the sentence "I am clever, therefore I deserve a university degree." Now I'm not saying that the young folk of Twatshire are stupid, but out of a class of three hundred only three passed this test.

    So there I was shaking hands with the brightest of Twatshirian youth, while the rest of their class sat in the corner picking lice from each others' hair. It was at this ceremony that one of the future stars of Twatshire asked me if I wanted a drink. She was a lovely young thing, blond hair, all of her teeth and no signs of interbreeding. In short, underwear investigation material.

    I naturally agreed to this and went on what can only be described as a all night drinking session.

    "This isn't so bad" I hear you say

    "This is just a normal evening for that damned alcoholic Earl" I hear you mention.

    "I enjoy sucking honey directly from the beehive" I do not hear a single one of you say.

    Anyhoo, I awoke to find myself exposed to the most blistering heat. I knew instantly where I was, I was in The Twatshire Desert.

    Not the Dessert, because that would have been sweet.

    I found myselt lying on my stomach in the sand, a dung beetle attempting to mate with my beard. I pushed the randy young insect off me and sat up. The blazing sunshine and acrid atmosphere seemed to accentuate my hangover and dry throat.

    "How did we get here?" a familiar young voice asked. I turned to see the young lady from the graduation ceremony dressed in my tweed jacket. I realised, that I was quite under dressed in my tweed trousers, tweed shirt, tweed waistcoat and tweed shoes.

    "My dear, I have no idea how we got here, were we drunk?" I asked.

    She nodded and wrapped my jacket around her. This was done easily as she was a thin beauty and my ample frame ensure that she had plenty of material to wrap herself in.

    "Oh Earl it was magical, we fell in love under the moonlight and celebrated out love with alcohol" she answered in a slightly odd way. She cuddled into my jacket and looked a little content, with a hint of crazy.

    Typical, I investigate a young ladies underwear, to find the contents are both insane and clingy.

    "Well, that's lovely" I said, trying to find a supportive thing to say. As I sat there wondering how I could get out of this situation, I noticed the young lady was humming a tune. My word, it was the wedding march. It seems my young companion had some very grand plans for your dear narrator.

    Awkward, is a word I would have used to describe the situation I found myself in. Two words would be, utterly terrifying.

    At that point I noticed my imaginary butler atop one of the dunes waving at me. I stood up on the hot dry sand and walked over. As I walked I say my young female companion follow me, humming the wedding march. "I think I'll get married in white" she suddenly said. Terror gripped me.

    My imaginary butler looked concerned as I approached. He indicated over the toop of the dune and I saw a sight that made my head sink. The desert was before me, a unending expanse of sand. Dune upon dune upon dune.

    In the sand I noticed a trail of some sort. Beer bottles! I shrieked in joy and ran down the dune towards one, I grasped it. The hot glass burned my hands as I thrust the container to my lips, empty. I sank to my knees and wept.

    My young female companion rested her hand on my shoulder.

    "We seem to be lost in the desert my love" she said. I decided that since we were about to die here I might as well play along with her madness.

    "Yes my dear, its looking pretty bleak" I replied.

    "Oh well darling, things could always be worse" she said. At this point cruel fate decided to acknowledge this. A loud sound of rushing sand filled the air, followed by a hideous roar.

    I leapt to my feet and turned to see a Giant Sand Worm rise out of the sand. Its hideous mouth opened and showed the razor sharp teeth within, past the teeth the fiery furnace like innards of the worm. The thing was immense at least three hundred meters long and fifty meters high.

    "Shai-Hulud" screamed my imaginary butler as the worm rose out of the sand and pounced. The poor girl didn't stand a chance. The worm snapped its mighty mandibles and she was gone.

    Well, that solved the main problem, now to deal with the giant sand worm and dying in the desert.

    The worm plunged back into the sand and began to circle around us. We both froze knowing that it was movement that attracted these hideous creatures.

    Now if Frank Herbert or Fat Boy Slim had taught me anything in life, it was "If you walk without rhythm, then you won't attract the worm." I needed to think of something without any form of rhythm to convince the sand worm that we were nothing more than the natural shifting of the sand.

    Eureka! I began moving my feet to the tune "All about that base" by Meghan Trainor. Lets be frank dear reader, that tune is without a shred of rhythm. It worked, my imaginary butler and I used this method to reach the top of the nearest dune. We stared out at the endless landscape and my imaginary butler began to panic. Naturally, he soiled himself.

    I looked about in desperation, I had no alcohol and I could feel the death like, icy hand of sobriety closing in on me. I looked left, I looked ahead, I looked right.

    And then I turned around.

    There was the university, the car park and my motor car. I forgot that the University of Twatshire backed directly onto the Twatshire Desert. I struck my butler harshly and informed him that he was a buffoon. We ran down the sand dune and into the safety of my motor car.

    Once inside, I needed liquid, the desert had ravaged my thirst. So naturally I drank six large vodkas and a babycham.

    Exhausting, but I managed to escape wife number eight. So the day was not a total loss.


    (The Author of the Earl of Twatshire would like to dedicate this slice of gibberish to @feluda for his help showing the illiterate and stupid Author how to create links in forums. Many thanks)
    Last edited: May 22, 2015

    GopalB., dreniacdre, BigBurt and 7 others like this.
  19. alsukmadi
    Honeycomb May 22, 2015

    Ceasedd, pipecpa and ronoldo like this.
  20. ronoldo
    KitKat May 22, 2015

    ronoldo , May 22, 2015 :
    Quite so. Hope to make myself not so scarce! Forsooth.