Monday, February 20, 2012

Callum van de Sheep-skin.

Callum! -- Friend, and long-time friend, known in stead of years; if you, now, for all the sped vicissitudes which fresh assail you, in this, the exciting time of this your transition -- not into adulthood, surely; who can say, for the obscuring shade of your natural affect and air, or, and this option more obstreperously true to me, though not in least to the diminution of your inveterate  good-gilt soul; or for your roving wide-world adventures, who can say when you strove strident through the bullwarks of self-sufficiency --

Tired. Callum, friend through course of long, sure years, it would please me greatly if you would disclose to me your email address. I would be more than glad -- indeed, glad for myself, in the simple pleasure of reading the wrought exertions of a brilliant intellect, and glad, too, for you, for I feel my help -- and I say this without condescension or glib, affected grace -- can, and will, due to trial and result, improve the heady capacities of your writings, and your skill to write. If you'd prefer to leave the past behind you, then this sentiment I duly comprehend, and to it, if it blooms, I shall quickly acquiesce -- yet though still alert me with a salutory address!

Please, also, could you give me, if you have it, Callan's email address. I dearly want that boy to succeed, for I saw great promise in him when I knew him; a promise that tore violenty through as much in the virility of his comfortable demeanour as in the one small, stately film of his I saw. I wish to help him grow, and exchange magnanimous advice -- and if I cannot give advice, then I shall take it, and go away, and bother him no more with my inane and premature words. But for even this to happen, I need his digital details, and so I beg, of thee, of ye! ah! please. pl0x.

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