Sunday, January 26, 2020

That is a suit?

     "This," said the proprietor, tranquilly, borrowing his way to where Archie stood and exhibiting a saffron-coloured outrage, which appeared to be a poor relation of the flannel family, "would put you back fifty dollars. And cheap!"
     "Fifty dollars!"
     "Sixty, I said. I don't speak always distinct."
     Archie regarded the distressing garment with a shuddering horror. A young man with an educated taste in clothes, it got right in among his nerve centers.
     "But, honestly, old soul, I don't want to hurt your feelings, but that isn't a suit, it just a regrettable incident."

(from The Indiscretions of Archie, by Sir Pelham Wodehouse)

Saturday, January 25, 2020

Useless press agent

"I just needed something like that. I've got a press agent, and I will say for him that he eats well and sleeps well and has just enough intelligence to cash his monthly cheque without forgetting what he went into the bank for, but outside of that you can take it from me he's not one of the world's workers! He's about as much solid use to a girl with aspirations as a pain in the lower ribs. It's three weeks since he got me into print at all, and then the brightest thing he could think up was that my favourite breakfast fruit was an apple."

(from The Indiscretions of Archie, by Sir Pelham Wodehouse)

Friday, January 24, 2020

Concerning bad backs

I remember when I was young and full of vinegar scoffing at older men who would excuse their lack of activity because of "a bad back." I would get a chuckle out of it.

Well, I am not chuckling any more. Bad backs are very real and very debilitating. And I humbly apologize to those concerned for my disrespectful thoughts.

Thursday, January 23, 2020

Needless jealousy

He had an idea that there were words which would have straightened everything out, but he was not an eloquent young man and could not find them. He felt aggrieved. Lucille, he considered, ought to have known that he was immune as regarded females with flashing eyes and experimentally-coloured hair. Why, dash it, he could have extracted flies from the eyes of Cleopatra with one hand and Helen of Troy with the other, simultaneously, without giving them a second thought.

(from The Indiscretions of Archie, by Sir Pelham Wodehouse)

Wednesday, January 22, 2020

Stars become slaves

It is interesting that decent people willingly watch, whether in movies, sports, or music, people who we probably would not allow into our homes because of their conduct. We trot them out to entertain us, and then we tell them, "Get lost." In effect, they become (highly-paid) slaves whom we bring out for our entertainment, and then send away. I wonder if they realize that. Probably not, because they are constantly surrounded by toadies and sycophants who treat them as royalty.

Tuesday, January 21, 2020

Ol' Dad agrees

She came in view at this moment, a trim little figure in a white skirt and a pale blue sweater. She waved to Archie; and Archie, as always at the sight of her, was conscious of that jumpy, fluttering sensation about the heart, which, translated into words, would have formed the question, "What on earth could have made a girl like that fall in love with a chump like me?"

It was a question which he was continually asking himself, and one which was perpetually in the mind also of Mr. Brewster, his father-in-law. The matter of Archie's unworthiness to be the husband of Lucille was practically the only one on which the two men saw eye to eye.

(from The Indiscretions of Archie, by Sir Pelham Wodehouse)

Monday, January 20, 2020

Not the life of the party

     "Who's this man Seacliff?" he demanded, without preamble. "I heard he's a friend of yours."
     "Oh, you've met him, what?" said Archie. "Had a nice little chat together, yes? Talked of this and that, no!"
     "We have not said a word to each other."
     "Really? Oh, well, dear old Squiffy is one of those strong, silent fellers you know. You mustn't mind if he's a bit dumb. He never says much, but it's whispered round the clubs that he thinks a lot. It was rumoured in the spring of nineteen-thirteen that Squiffy was on the point of making a bright remark, but it never came to anything."

(from The Indiscretions of Archie, by Sir Pelham Wodehouse)