enroute to dinner with elan
Just received this from notre hote from Friday:
“Thank you all for a great evening (**** you have been given the royal pardon - but remind me never to take you out again - the chimpanzee ‘YYaKKKAzin YakkYAKK AERAKAZINK’ noises you were making seemed to work particularly well in alerting the rest of the dining room to the fact that care in the community is not a good thing) PS- I hope the port stains come out of your shirt, and the Maitre D’ has gotten over the shock of hearing the C word for the first time since he accidentally turned into a side street in Soho and asked a pimp for directions to Fortnum’s.”
Pics attached.
it started out as a very civilized evening. Then the Limo arrived. And suddenly everyone was a footballer’s wife:
Lord ‘Oskins of ‘Ainault was present to bring a modicum of decorum to the festivities. Until the end when it took the threat of legal action to dissuade him from dragging the assembly to a notorious den of hot sweaty man-on-man action.
As was Sir Sunni of Greenford and the Divine Carlotta (who also arranged transport; but loses points for his failure to fill the stretch with Eastern European rent.
Lord Merkel of Marylebone appeared, but seemed somewhat unsure of just what he’d let himself in for
Still he had a good time once the host began exposing his behind
Which pleased some people inordinately
We (none of us) have any idea what was happening here
But it was clearly Hillaire….
Remaining photos below. A truly wonderful evening, and one which we plan on making an annual event. Someone better have an organ to sell next year. And considering the Society’s funciton, I suggest we don’t try flogging anyone’s liver…
