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'A gaping silken dragon,/Puffed by the wind, suffices us for God./We, not the City, are the Empire's soul:/A rotten tree lives only in its rind.'

Monday, 29 April 2013

Big man...

... not as in:

A Scottish novel, frae Scotland, made wi'girders, aboot Glasgae etc etc.

But, rather:

Hairy Pierre, unwashed, big fisted, sunburnt, small time smuggler, soon to be big time hero (if the Anglo-Saxons would just get a move on with the Second Front).


Gaston de Chretian, one time noviciate turned Royalist fanatic.

But wait, the English intervene:

with an inappropriate (certainly not PC) song by a limp wristed fellow in a silk dressing gown.

Ah, it is but a ruse:

Yes! We are talking Too Fat Lardies and:

the stage is set.

To be continued...


  1. This looks like it is going to be fun...

  2. Cheers chaps! It's only taken me a week to get this going!