I greatly regret the silence of recent days; these have been troubled times, personally, but nothing that ordinary beings don't experience. Sometimes, you just think you are extraordinary and beyond the touch of those things that nibble at the toes of every-day people. Most of the time, you don't even know you have toes, being so wrapped up in patent leather and all. Of course, the crash of my computer at home due to a virus from Facebook (those FUCKS), hasn't helped.
Beyond these things, I have spent an extreme amount of time on the decoration of Twist's 17th anniversary; that is done and will be celebrated on June 30. Now I have to devote every moment and effort into Leopoldo's forty-fifth birthday party this Saturday at Twist; it begins at 6 PM and lasts until the last stripper goes home (or to the pool).
After this coming weekend I will be officially exhausted, but I'm sure there will be some things that come to be addressed in a manor that only Mrs. Stuyvesant-Fish and myself could deal with. And, don't think that the vulgar Baroness Seitzinger is ever very far away from sniffing something that might position herself in a fair light. There is great talk of a trip of a hunting lodge in New Hope, Pennsylvania. I have always loved hunting lodges since Mayerling.