The lamentations of Struthius (struthio camelus)

A reply to “Biddster” ref. Jovian real estate.

You show great foresight in wishing to invest off-world. I cannot, however, recommend Ganymede for golf for I fear that your balls will freeze. In addition, the containment field that you mention will, given the current state of development, be insufficient to support a large enough area to allow the proficient golfer to drive his balls further than 120 metres. You, I feel sure, will appreciate that to support a containment field using the struthical particle will require a greater energy output than is currently available. The 12 v. car battery that I can carry on board “The Ostrich” coupled with the solar panels designed by Miss 7 of 9 can only support a Putting Green. You may be interested in the fact that I shall shortly be undertaking a further trip to Mars where I believe I shall be able to offer suitable land for sale at the base of Olympus Mons.

I must point out that interest in my Mars mission is being shown by a Mr Quark (pictured above) who is already offering 300 bars of gold latinum/acre for a site around Olympus Mons in order to build a Gambling House and bar (subject to planning permission). Replying to your question concerning the transportation of your clubs Miss 7 of 9 assures me that she will happily accommodate your niblik, driver etc. in her hammock. She failed to mention your balls. I enclose a further picture of my travelling companion aboard “The Ostrich.”

I should say that 7 of 9 is, perhaps, of Scandinavian origin bearing the surname Borg but is not, apparently, related to the tennis player. She assures me that the Borg family (they appear to be a pretty bright lot) have the technology required to terraform Mars and she intends to write to them for more information. I shall, therefore, after my next Mars mission, be in a better position to advise you further on the matter of investment. Confidentially, I feel a little uneasy about Mr. Quark and his business ethic which is based on the Ferengian “Rules of Acquisition.” Whatever they are!

In conclusion I would again further address myself to “Junket” ref. my shaky monopod. Miss 7 has examined my current support and feels that with a little manipulation she can probably make it more rigid. As she points out she won’t have to open her legs so wide in order to steady it. Bright girl!

All suggestions gratefully received.

Sincerely, Diogenes A. Twatt.

The lamentations of Struthius (struthio camelus)

Struthius in Space, a response.

Before my next blog I must thank Junket and Biddster who responded to “Struthius in Space.”

Firstly, in response to J. I take your point, dear reader, but what Struthius did not reveal was that my monopod is not of the stoutest construction and the camera that I use is a Lancaster ½ plate with adapter for ¼ plate sheet film. This magnificent fotoaparat is constructed of the finest mahogany with brass fittings and weighs mightily. Miss 7 0f 9 is a lady of robust stature and good firm thighs but, that being said, I feel that to ask her to grip my shaky monopod and existing camera is asking too much. The space within the craft does allow for the tripod with Miss 7 of 9 lying in supportive pose and Struthius under the focussing cloth.

Secondly, responding to Biddster. Dear fellow, you will, by now, be in a good position to understand my views on Europe and Brussels (ein moment bitte whilst Struthius cleanses his mouth). I give not a gnat’s knacker for Euroedicts and, neither does my travelling companion Miss 7 of 9 who, like me, enjoys thrusting to warp 8. I wish to point out that neither of us suffer from Thrush, just in case that was a Freudian slip.

The lamentations of Struthius (struthio camelus)

Middle England’s Finest!

The storm is upon me, the calm is ended and once more Struthius stands indicted, charged with offences against literature, social sensibility and grammatical laxness!

It appears that Struthius’s last communication was, for some pedantic anally retentive Europhile, one step too far, for, within hours of my blog being posted, the Mem was texted and apprised of its content together with the web site upon which the Struthius blogs can be found. I have always kept this knowledge from Mrs. C. (the Mem) but, in a moment of carelessness, I must have revealed it to an acquaintance, a latter-day Mrs. Grundy, a self-appointed guardian of the public good and educational standards.

Well, madam, the cheeks of my arse, I wag my willie at you and say, “Phoo” in the Gallic manner. I care not that I fall into typographical error. It does not concern me that I do not abide by the rules governing grammatical exactitude neither do I give a wizzle’s dick that my Latin lacks polish.

That you find offensive my references to European sanitary ware and to what are now, apparently, simply referred to as European Commissioners is a matter of complete indifference to me.

You upbraid me by saying that it is dishonourable to speak disparagingly of the dead (ref. to former P.M. Mr. Edward Heath). Why? Madam, I have frequently spoken disparagingly and openly of Ghengis Khan, Adolph Hitler, Jo’ Stalin, Jack the Ripper, Alastair Crowley, to mention but a very few. Are you going to find fault in this?

Your complaint of my use of the occasional vulgate vernacular and, what you claim are my oblique sexual references to my good friend and fellow traveller 7 of 9 leave me unmoved.

In short, I shall not abide by the piss-ant restraints that you seek to impose upon me in your newly appointed roles of Malleus Illiteratum and Keeper of the Common Good.

I remain,

Your good friend,

Rev. R Scrotum-Tite.

Beware, the Eurocrapper cometh!

Dear reader, it had not been my intention to hold forth on lavatorial matters, but a recent incident* compels me speak out.

Bear with me as I set the scene.

In February, during this year of grace, Struthius, ever compliant with family wishes, found himself incarcerated within the confines of a European style leisure compound; an erstatz environment surrounding an overlarge greenhouse.

In the concrete cell block to which family and I had been directed there existed a strange insanitary device apparently, intended for use as a W.C. Now, most God-fearing English folk will know that the standard W.C. consists of a pedestal bowl and seat and, directly under the seat, water.

Under the seat of this lavatorial porcelain was a concave shelf the purpose of which was to catch the steaming contents of the user’s bowel and/or urinary tract where it lies stinking prior to later flushing. It came as no surprise to Struthius to discover that this device was of European design and manufacture.

* The recent incident

Mr. Michael Palin (sometime Python, traveller, presenter and writer) in a recently televised trip to the expanded Europe visited the former East German city of Dresden where he visited a large porcelain factory now given over to manufacturing Eurobogs; a sad comment on the city’s former manufacturing glory.

When questioned by M. Palin on the reason for placing a shelf just beneath the shitter’s arse an apparently surprised guide explained that this is what most Europeans now expect.

It turns out that Euroshitters, particularly the older ones, feel driven (for health reasons!) to examine their freshly evacuated poo.

At this point the minds of most right thinking people will, for the preservation of sanity, close down or go on vacation. The mind of Struthius is, however, made of sterner stuff and has allowed him to pursue this matter.

What in God’s name are they looking for, diamonds, emeralds or just pearls of socio/political Euro-wisdom that they can send to the Common Market Commissioners in Brussels for use in future mindless edicts?

Do the elderly (and young) of Europe really stoop over the lavatorial china mumbling and drooling after each bowel movement entranced by the sight of their steaming faeces? Do they congratulate themselves on presentation and colour?

Perhaps they sort through it in the hopes of finding enlightenment or ano-mystical divination through splatter pattern or disposition of the turds?

Are the people of Britain going to be required to follow this Eurofad, this anal preoccupation which Struthius has always considered to be a prerequisite of Continentals i.e. anyone east of Grimsby and south of The Isle of Wight?

Will we each soon be required by Euro-edict to be in the possession of a Eurocrapper and Home Poo Pathology Kit for full analysis of each and every stool?

These and many more questions arise in the mind of Struthius.

Oh, how I wish that that crapulous organ playing yachtsman politician who greased Britain’s entry into the Common Market (or whatever it’s called today) had had the foresight to see the consequences of his action.

Sincerely,

Alponse Ulysses Crapnasti

To come:-

Struthius and the men in black.

Being a paranoiac epistemological examination of the universe

The flight of “The Ostrich”

Dear reader/s, I have been asked to report on my recent space flight to Ganymede aboard “The Ostrich.”

I am happy to say that the flight went according to plan although both my navigator/science officer Miss 7 of 9 (pictured below) and I agree that we could have packed a couple of extra jumpers and a little more underwear.

I am happy to report that despite the rather chilly conditions aboard the craft we were able to keep ourselves warm around the electric fire. Miss 7 of 9 and I whiled away the hours until planetary insertion by playing strip poker which we play by Struthius rules i.e. I get to score at the end of the game. Miss 7 of 9 has accompanied me on most of my space flights and, once again, proved herself most satisfactory when I went for orbital insertion. I have, however, had occasion to reprimand her for the disconcerting habit of crying out, “Yes, yes, Captain Janeway” (whoever he is) whenever I applied full thrust.

Problems arose with the outside thermometer which froze and, as I had forgotten to pack my E.V.A. suit, I couldn’t go outside to warm it up. Predictably, several nails around the containment field came adrift but this did not cause too much problem with the handling of the craft.

Points to take on board before my next flight from realis primus include:-

a) take on board an extra electric fire and blankets.

b) less nails and more screws to withstand full thrust.

c) remember E.V.A. suit and pyjamas.

d) allow 7 of 9 to win the occasional hand and keep some clothes on.

I have been able to select a site for the Jovian observatory (now nearing completion in my back garden) which now only requires decent grade roofing felt and some more screwing which Miss 7 of 9 has offered to help me with.

On our 3^rd. orbit I was able to take a photo of the future landing site (see below)

For photographic anoraks out there I can reveal that it was taken on ¼ plate sheet Ektochrome film (200 ASA) at f.5.6 1/30^th sec. with my tripod firmly clasped between Miss 7 of 9’s legs to avoid camera shake.

Well that’s it for now except to convey the sad news that my old friend Professor Prem. (Omigosh) Chukabhutti passed away during his trip to India. Details of his death are still sketchy but it appears that his revolutionary low temperature car climate control system ran amok during a demonstration around Calcutta.

Reports reaching me indicate that he’d stopped his car in the middle of the commercial area to allow a cow to cross the road and within seconds he froze to death at about 50 degrees above zero absolute. He and his old colleague Mahatma Khote BSc.(university of Jolliphur) failed, physicist, guru and part time cloak room attendant, had to be chipped out of the vehicle by a specialist retrieval crew wearing protective clothing. It will be some time before the remains can be sorted and reassembled prior to funerary rites on the river Gunges.

Well, that’s all the news for now so it only remains for me to say,

“Transmitte mea sursum Caledoni.*

Sincerely,

Theophanus Throte.

* “Beam me up Scottie.”