Picture: From the Sir Charles Grandiose Archives

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December 5, 1997

One must dispense with one's usual digression into the finer details of upright behaviour and good manners. Yes, readers. One knows that one's usual preamble is the prime motive for your visits to this page--and one has it upon good authority that they are so numerous that they surpass even the visits that 'Fergie' makes to her icebox.

But once again, one must once again bow to the pressures of economics. Maintaining this bastion of culture and high civilization is costly, readers. One has debated the options. Does one allow strips of colourful, brazen advertising across the tops and bottom of one's forum, inviting all and sundry to visit brazenhussies.com? Does one finally allow the major advertisers like Microcroft, GM, and the people who make those Xerxes photo-copiers the advertising space for which they have begged, pled, and blackmailed?

No. One allows only a handful of product endorsements, and only occasionally, when the need merits. They must meet one's standards, of course. No vulgarity. No craven appeals to vanity, or false claims. In short, they must be tasteful. Restrained. The sort of thing with which a baronet would be proud to be associated.

One has interspersed these endorsements amongst the usual weekly inquiries. One believes one's readers will scarcely notice them.

Apologising for this interruption of what is surely the most beloved forum on the so-called 'internut', one remains for yet another week,
Sir Charles Grandiose

Sir William Knotworth-Muche writes:

Picture: A Product of Women's LibationDear Sir Charles,

My fiancee, who just returned from the colonies where she had been sent to complete her education, and I had a rather serious discussion this a.m. prior to the start of the annual hunt races. She and I, as befits a betrothed couple, had planned to enter the pairs class and the relay.

It seems, however, her preference is astride, while I hold the firm belief that a woman's proper position is aside. I attempted to tell her so, in what I thought was a tactful manner.

So peeved was she by my belief, that--after unsuccessfully attempting to sway me to the women's 'libation' (or somesuch) viewpoint--she told me where I could put my riding crop and then trotted off to enter the pairs class with a young upstart who has been currying her favor. I was left standing at the mounting block with my crop dangling limply.

As she and I are unlikely to come together on this matter, is there any hope for a happy union?

Sir Wm. Knotworth-Muche

Sir Charles replies:

Sir William,

If fault must be found, my friend, one is afraid that it lies with you.

You see, some men are too accustomed to the same old riding positions, over and over again. They mount their mares, dig in their heels, and it's 'Yoicks and away!' Their wives, on the other hand, are expected to sit quietly with their legs spread in the saddle, until the ride is blessedly done with.

But how many times one has admired the Lady Felicia, however, as she takes the reins in her hands and sat astride, grasps the saddle horn tightly as she lifts one leg and straddles her old stallion until he is firmly between her legs. The Lady Felicia is a firm adherent of the use of the riding crop, or, if she is in a particularly saucy mood, a light whip.

A woman with a knowledge of several mounts, Sir William, is a woman who will ride for a lifetime.

Hearing the whip's lash in one's reverie, one remains,
Sir Charles Grandiose

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charlie writes:

sir c

me and this girl are like best friends and we telll each other everything. well i have fallen in love with this girl. even a psychic said they say me and a girl who looked like her together. i have very strong feelings for this girl. i dont want to ask her out and have her reject me and possably lose our friendship but i love her. please helpi would love to spend the rest of my life with her but i don't know what to do.


Sir Charles replies:

Dear lad,

One has also seen you together with a girl who looked just like your adored!

They were standing in the door of the public poorhouse, surrounded by a flock of uncared-for, dirty, mewling children, making plans to double their last ten pounds by betting it on 'Strawberry Bubbly' in the third, while the oldest child pawed through the father's immense collection of job rejection notices informing him that they could under no circumstance employ him because he seemed to lack the basic ability to capitalize his letters!

Does that make one psychic?

Noting that it doesn't take a crystal ball to predict some bad ends, one remains,
Sir Charles Grandiose

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Ivy writes:


how do i win my sons fathers heart. we have just started speaking this past week. our son is 4 mths.


Sir Charles replies:

Young lady,

You aren't, perchance, the inamorata of 'charlie,' are you?

There is an age-old principle to which some adhere that a young lady should remain shy and silent in the company of the men who admire her.

Thirteen months after the conception of your child, however, is carrying it a bit far.

Shaking one's head, one remains,
Sir Charles Grandiose

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