|
 Picture
the scenario, readers. You sit inside a dimly-lit Chinese restaurant,
your wife across from you. Over the platefuls of Egg Foo Yong
and Chop Suey you engage in romantic banter. Blushes abound.
All progresses well over the final cups of tea. Surely you will
proceed to your happy marital home for an evening of rekindled
romance. Then the waiter arrives bearing a plate, upon which
sit two innocent sweets. The fortune cookies! Ah, what will have
fate have in store?
Your companion reaches for her cookie, and breaks it open.
"You are personable and have many friends," it reads.
She colours slightly. You open up your cookie. "A new love
will come into your life today." You look up to find your
wife's face a mask of white. There is cold silence. The interminable
cab ride home. The lawyers. The divorce.
Well, not so with a new product from your favourite agony
baronet:
Grandiose Cookie Fortunes!
(A wholly owned subsidiary of
Grandiose Enterprises, Ltd.)
Grandiose cookie fortunes are guaranteed to provide you with
fortunes wholly suited for your station in life. Restaurateurs
may choose from the "High-brow," "Middle-brow,"
and "Scrub" series, as they see fit. A few examples
from the latter series:
Your accent will be roundly
mocked
in every social circle, save in America,
where they will think it posh.
You will find a cockroach
in your
washbasin this evening.
This makes a nice change
from
pork flavoured crisps in front
of the telly, doesn't it?
From our Middle-brow range:
You will work endlessly
and
without thanks until you
are made redundant.
No matter how many
trivial rises you receive in your pay
packet, it will never seem
like enough.
And finally, for those truly Quality restaurants, the High-brow
range:
A good friend never loosens
his
tongue against you in front of
Inland Revenue.
Confucius say: Good help
is
ever so hard to find.
The servants are making
away with your silver.
Always glad to provide quality services at quality prices
for yet another week, one remains,
Sir Charles Grandiose
 Nadia
writes:
Sir Charles,
I am researching a rather delicate matter-the origins of humor.
I would be most interested in your opinions on this matter, and
I hope that you will deem my request worthy of a response.
Unfortunately, time is an extremely sensative manner, as the
article is due on Monday, the 19th of June. If you have any thing
to contribute before that time, it would be greatly appreciated.
Your humble servant
Nadia
Sir Charles replies:
Curious reader,
It would be as impossible to pinpoint the origin of humor
as it would be count Her Highness' hats. Even the lower primates
appreciate physical comedy, and are quick to laugh at and applaud
a good pratfall or a slip on a banana peel.
Ah, but the pun, the witty bon mot, the elegant play upon
words--surely these are things that only the animal known as
man can create, for only man has the facility of language. Even
in the times of the cavemen (and one hastens to assure one's
readers that one's own ancient ancestors always lived in a better
class of cave), rest assured there was some wag who turned to
his friend and said, "Ugh, Crog, did you hear the one about
the shaman, the cavegirl, and the one-eyed cave snake?"
What is a life without a witty pun, a tasteful joke, or an
outright gibe at a flatulent Frenchman? In short, what is a life
without humor? Let's ask Camilla Parker-Bowles, shall we? She
seems to be something of an expert.
Always glad to be of help, one remains,
Sir Charles Grandiose
Eloise writes:
sir charles,
i am unwed and pregnant and i don't know who the father is,
what's more he's given me some kind of rash. i can't pay the
rent either and it's do soon. my mother thinks i'm a disgrace
and my father says he won't let me move home. i am desperate
what can i do?
eloise
Sir Charles replies:
My dear, dear girl,
Many philosophers have reflected upon the nature of Life,
and our purposes here on this planet. We all have so many opportunities
to carve a life for ourselves and rise above the squalor of our
animal inheritance. In short, I feel I must sympathize with the
fellow who first noted that life is what each of us makes of
it.
And you, my dear, have apparently labored long and hard at
creating your souffle des merdes.
With a hearty bon appetit!, one remains,
Sir Charles Grandiose
 Troubled
Hubby writes:
Dear Sir Charles,
I've been married for three years now. At first everything
was ducky. We'd have special dinners and chat the night away,
and go to bed and talk for hours more. Then a year into the marriage
we started eating dinner with the TV on. Now I come home and
we barely speak to each other. We hardly have anything to talk
about.
Is this normal for marriage? I don't want to worry unless
I have to.
Troubled Hubby
Sir Charles replies:
Hail and well met, good 'hubby,'
Such a state of decline is quiet natural over the course of
a marriage. Why, one has been married for decades more than one
cares to admit, and as of this writing, one has not spoken to
the Lady Felicia for over nine months.
The reason? One hates to interrupt her.
With a wink and a nod, one remains,
Sir Charles Grandiose
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