Fantom elevator shitter

Tony "Two Coats": Any source of decorating work is a "good" thing, but really... Taking a shit in an elevator is absolutely disgusting.

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— Neighbors From Hell (@NeighorFromHell) December 7, 2017

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Tarquin's Diary | 12th January 2013

Chatting with Rupert about Treasury matters in the drawing room before bedtime when it suddenly occurred to him that right now would be a super opportunity to cap all state benefits at 1% per anum.  

I was puzzled by the idea at first, but because Rupert read PPE at Oxford I thought I'd temporarily turn my gaze away from the figurine featured on antiques road show and try and work out what earth he was on about.

Rupert says it's all to do with the price of things in the shops.  He tells me that, as it stands at the moment, if prices of stuff goes up the benefits we pay, SORRY the Government, has to pay, goes up by the same abount. I think I know what Rupert's driving at now. He's on the 'phone giving *George an earful  right now saying:

"Just put a 1% cap on benefits now while inflation is next to nothing, and when we collapse the pound after Boris wins Brexit inflation will go through the roof and we won't have to pay sky-high benefits ever again...”

Can't see it working myself, but to protect the old inheritance I'd better ask Francis to buy gold at today’s price for payment in 2017/18.

Now, how much did that King Charles I figurine go for after all that?

*George Osborne:  Chancellor of the Exchequer and old-Etonian

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Breaking News | Tarquin Bolloux to publish 637,000 page journal

Tarquin Bolloux, aristocrat, philanthropist, raconteur and chief researcher at Quotilucious has started the process to have his esteemed and eagerly anticipated journals published.  Here's Tarquin's elegant initial approach to enlist the help of an editor - what Tarquin charmingly refers to as "trimming". 

Lord Tarquin Bolloux, Sussex House, Sussex, England

Dear Mr. Bounds,

I appreciate that we have not seen eye-to-eye on a number of matters of late. Not even on the merits of Chelsea Football Club, a team I followed on Facebook solely to impress upon you and my other poor Working Class "friends". That said, and because my most recent attentions have been focused, almost entirely, upon maintaining and protecting my unimaginably large inheritance, I have insufficient time to trim my 637,000 word journal and would, therefore, very much like to meet with you to discuss the possibility of you trimming it down to a more digestible proportion.

As always I trust your judgement entirely and undertake not to interfere with your processes other than to insist that the word and is not as overused, as I believe we both agree it was, during the trimming stage of my 456,000 word autobiography "Thank You Henry". I would also like to insist, if I may, that the reader be, more or less convinced while reading my edited journal, that the writer is considered de facto myself and not at all you.  I trust that you will endeavour to use such a tone of voice throughout the journal so that a readers perception of myself is not tainted or perceived in any way to be varying from the standards of that what my society acquaintances have come to expect.

I appreciate too that this task before you may have been complicated further by my allowing Rupert to give me a hand during the writing of the journal.  This was normally after swimming and before my Valet dressed me, which as you will appreciate, placed me in a position which made it arduous to decline assistance.  I understand too that from time-to-time deciphering my and/or Rupert’s handwriting may prove problematic.  However, when you learn that much of the early journal entries were written under the cover of darkness and often with only a candle to illuminate ourselves under the bed covers your forbearance will, I am sure, be forthcoming. One final limitation I would like to place on your otherwise unfettered consolidation of my journal would be to take particular care, in view of the sensitive nature of my relations, not to vex Granny Bolloux (92) any more than is absolutely necessary.

I am sure that you are more than equal to the challenge I lay before you and am sure also that you will be able to deliver the edited journal to me in time to present it to my Grandmother, on her 93rd birthday (i.e. the 17th May), or God failing to our family lawyers, Careless and Sons whichever comes first.

Your esteemed and loyal friend,

Lord Tarquin Bolloux

We'll post any progress here, though you'll be able to find minor developments on Tarquin's Facebook page