939001 fine fellows have paid their respects thus far...
Gentleman's Afternoon: The Pub
Writing a letter....

Sir. Our great and goodly friendship has recently yielded some fascinating intellectual bon mots!
Without wanting to sound like a former cerebrally challenged dullard, I feel my current cognitive functions are now operating on a highly refined level… I now breathe the rarefied air of someone blessed with insights above and beyond my ken. In short- I now possess a mature understanding of the vagaries of modern life.

And further to-that-end, let us not wait too long before embarking on the all-to rare and heady adventure that is…. A…
.‘Gentleman’s’ Afternoon’ again soon.

Ever faithfully yours, Westfairlian Scrimshaw.


Yes! Yes Yes… Let us regale and rent asunder the day from it’s shallow moorings of repressed predictability! We shall set-sail for the far shore of rigorous inquiry and pursue pure freedom, as only the true libertine can. Nothing will be off limits! Soon my stalwart friend soon…

Sincerely yours in rigourous inquiry, as always, Marion Crackplow

(Later both men are seen in a pub looking through tabloids, they are pissed out of their fucking brains)

“Rooney’s out. He’s starting to believe the hype, his legs will go, along with his fitness.”

“Kate Lawler....Prone to a bit of anal?”

 “Listen, any girl who has a tattoo on the small of her back is up for a bit of anal. It’s a secret code”

“ I did not know that”

 “You do now”
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