Picture: From the Sir Charles Grandiose Archives

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November 1, 1999

Picture: See No EvilReaders--

One's dedicated correspondents know well that one has always been on the 'cutting edge' of technology. Why, mention any of the latest and greatest aids to modern life to the man on the street, and he will be certain to associate one's name with them. The World Wild Web? Sir Charles Grandiose's domain, of course. The eight track tape? Sir Charles Grandiose's hi-fidelity system (in quadraphonic sound) plays nothing else but.

Which is why, upon the advent of a number of devices that will allow web 'surfers' an olfactory experience to compliment their 'pointing and clicking', one is proud to state that for the first time anywhere in the history of the 'Internut':

Advice from Sir Charles Grandiose

in Glorious Smell-o-rama!

Throughout this column you will find links in a bright, vivid blue. When, with a carefully manicured fingernail, the reader scratches this link and applies one's nostrils to the screen, they will be rewarded with a delightful aroma corresponding to the delineated image.

A few sample aromas that one's readers may enjoy as a prelude:

One's readers may enjoy the delightful perfume that young Penelope Windsor-Smythe applied to the nape of her neck this morning (a most delicate scent suitable for one who is eighty-fifth in line for the throne).

Who can resist the aroma of a twelve-course dinner served in the Blandsdown dining room just last night?

One cannot but help share this heady aroma of fresh hay in the stables. That is, until one found a fresh cake on the floor. The sort one wouldn't find in a bakery, mind you.

And finally, before we proceed to the main course of aromas scent in by one's readers (one really must apologise for that last scent . . . it was a little like raw oysters left to dry in the sun, no?), one reminds one's readers that if the scent is not apparent upon the first sniff, scratch the blue words a little harder, lean much closer--really, those smudges will just wipe off with a handkerchief, later--and inhale more deeply.

Trust one.

Rather cherishing the image of the duller among one's legion of followers pressing their noses against their monitors and looking completely idiotic, one remains for yet another week,
Sir Charles Grandiose


Chloris writes:

Picture: An Unattractive FungusDear Sir Charles,

My boyfriend disappears for days at a time and I know he's up to no good. That bastard. This last time when he got back he had an enormous bouquet of flowers. I'm pretty sure he's just trying to get me on my back and to spread my legs. What do you think?


Sir Charles replies:

Vulgar girl,

One rather thinks that a nice vase, with a bit of water, would be more appropriate for displaying flora.

Shaking his head, one remains,
Sir Charles Grandiose


Desperate writes:

Sir Charles,

You are my last resort. I am an American tourist. My wife and I were visiting Fishampton near your estate. We heard the birdwatching at Blandsdown was unparalleled.

So my wife and I decided to walk around the perimeter of your grounds . . . something we thought rather easy to do, given the number of bear traps marking the edge of your property. I was studying a white-tufted field sparrow when my wife happened upon a dead specimen of the Cornish red-crested titmouse. Saddened at the sight, we together flipped the bird over in order to ascertain that it was indeed, beyond resuscitation.

Suddenly your gamekeeper and a squadron of constables descended upon us, and since then we have been in solitary confinement in the deepest nether regions of the Fishampton jail. We haven't even been told on what charges we are being held! Please, Sir Charles, is it a case of trespassing? If so, it was unintentional!

Desperate in the Dungeons of the Fishampton Jail!

Sir Charles replies:

Dear Desperate,

No one, but no one, ever flips the bird in my direction and gets away with it.

Hoping the correspondent rots in prison, one remains,
Sir Charles Grandiose


Troubled  writes:

Picture: Classroom ManagementDear Sir Charles,

As a student teacher in the midst of her first practicum, I am having trouble keeping order in the classroom.  It is hard to teach a group of 6 year olds when they are more interested in making noises resembling bodily functions than paying attention.

 I understand from reading your column that as a child you attended a number of educational institutions and as such would have had the opportunity to experience many different styles of classroom management.

Can you make any suggestions of methods that you observed to be particularly effective?

Thank you,
Troubled Student Teacher in Toronto

Sir Charles replies:

Dear Miss,

What a timely and thoughtful letter you have given oneself and one's readers for certainly it is too true that today's youth (and indeed, many of their elders) are too easily distractible by vulgar pastimes and rude, childish. . . . but say . . . exactly what technique do they use to reproduce these noises? One is fond of the mouth in the crook of the arm technique, oneself, but old Tuppy Bellwether swears that blowing wetly against the base of the hands produces the most satisfactory cacophony of faux flatulence.

Naturally there are always those who swear by the armpit method, and while many jolly noises may be made by virtue of pressure beneath the arm, the technique is scarcely handy during those long indentured evenings at the Opera House, when one wishes to provide sound effects to enliven Aida's entrances onto the stage.

Certain there was a question to be answered somewhere along there, one remains,
Sir Charles Grandiose

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