Dear Baron Munchausen …

It’s been too long since we last said farewell! I have a lasting image of you at the helm of the Good Lady Hepburn, full steam ahead … your pipe residing in its usual position and your hat askew (after passionately kissing the good lady, Hepburn).

Once I left you, I rode on to Montague’s (where things quickly went into the kind of disarray Mickey Rourke visually represents). I’m sure you’ve heard my tales of woe through Harvey Shiplitz and suffice to say (unlike Harvey’s eyebrows), they have not been exaggerated.

Our game of cribbage started out tamely enough but Colonel Hatty, who seems to have set up residence with Montague, was there and as you know, he has never really forgiven me for the game of poker which resulted in me inheriting his favourite toupee. (I have it framed in a glass cabinet along with a photo of Hatty, sans hair. He doesn’t seem to find it amusing however).

To cut a story less lengthy, there was some debate over who won the game (in truth, Hatty was the victor but I felt a mischievious urge to mess with the man, one that I cannot account for). A scuffle ensued, with Hatty somehow gaining the upper hand. I believe that I had no true understanding of how important that toupee was to Hatty, or I may never have red flagged the man. As it was, I lost the use of my legs in the fight. Hatty seemed to think it a fair exchange which, I believe, shows a disproportionate love of hair (don’t you think?)

Nevertheless, I remain in good spirits as I will soon be in Egypt once more, realising my dream of building my very own pyramid. My intention is to live there, once construction has been completed. This of course will be encumbered by the fact there will be no wheelchair ramps, but I feel that if the Pharaohs can do it … so too can I, my dear friend.

I hope this finds you well, please pass my regards along to the good lady, Hepburn.

Your faithful friend,


Published by the wuc

I'm a chick living in Australia, working for the man. I hate office work with a passion usually reserved for James Cameron, but somehow I ended up with a career behind a desk, stapling my forehead at random intervals.

22 thoughts on “Dear Baron Munchausen …

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