Lately, London is a dreary place. Since my return from exploring the lowlands last July, in which I observed at close quarters the chin-people (noble beasts), I have been busy, true. But tea, brandy, my club (The Porcupine) and whores (m/f) will suffice but for a limited period until my feet (and elsewhere) are itching.
What am I to do?
Is there another campaign into which I can dig my unspeakable molars?
About Me
- Augustus J Stigwood
- Indigenous Londoner, explorer, ethnologist, raconteur, bon viveur, translator, orientalist, sexual terrorist, discover of 232 multicellular species, Sotadic zone journeyman, member of "The Porcupine" gentlemen's club, butterfly-collecter, devotee of Raku, recovering arsonist, Elk Incumbent, Grand Wizard, master trepanner and Mormon (intermittent).
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