-=Dark_Angel=-, P.I.4 Jan 2005

"But none could appreciate the pain
That lurked behind that melancholic strain"

O how often I have felt like that, as naked, lewd, and writhing, I toil o'er the pit. And in the garden, do not womenfolk and dung-cherubs behold my wails? And yet they pay but little heed. For 'tis oft' heard told, in the wooded glades of Derbyshire, that 'tis sweet and proper for an Gentleman to labour ere he casts stool. I daresay such whisperings hold little comfort for those forced to dine on rock-porridge and boiled chestnuts. O Jesu! Becalm my gnashing buttocks!