It’s not what one says but rather how one says it.

Crazy Pete

So, I married a Drama King. Everything must be said with a flourish. This is an actual note that he wrote to me:

“I me Bonnie Lass, tis himself address ye. Take heed Wench lest I take a mind ta throw ya over me knee an commence to flailing ye a good one across ya backside. Hark I say I put to ya a simple question and plan tis the answer I seek – straight out now – none of this catterwalling nor howling about like unto a highland sprit – out with it now. Tis this not the vary same eve upon which we are to embark cross yon glen and hedgerow keeping mostly to the highroad until such time as we reach the hamlet that contains the very House of Wallce Mart. Thereby and upon which gaining we should lay up winter stores fitting to tide us over but half a fortnight yet robbing me already overtaxed purse to the point that there not even be a speck of lint left in the bottom. So what say ye and be quick about it lest I unleash more babble upon ye!”

Translation: “Are we going to Wal-Mart to buy groceries tonight?.”

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