Hairport

Well, mes amis, today I fly back to Australia. Morece will be flying from Armidale in France to Paris in Australia on Elast Ickband Air, the world's number 900 airline!

I am currently sitting in in the airport departure lounge waiting for a plane that has been delayed yet again. But Merise is not the sort to let this get him down, no sir! I spent the first three hours working on my groundbreaking new novel The Stunned Mullet of Etrusca, and bestowing the benefit of Mawrhys's genius on my felllow passengers. For some reason, they all seem to have moved down to the other end of the departure lounge, even though that end is looking very crowded now.

Still, Mawryce never gets depressed just because everyone else suddenly had to leave unavoidably. No, mon ami, Maurrhyçe just got out his laptop and jumped on the airport's wireless internet. I checked my email a few times but no good, it did not make the email appear. Then I realised I must confer more of the unique wisdomm of Morrhy∫e on to my adoring public, the blog readers.

Mes amis, Maurhyße's flight is being called now. He must go. Maybe if I go now they won't notice I have a Cattle Class ticket, and I can sneek into Firsst Class.... Shh, don't tell anyone Maurrecse's secret!

[To comment on this post, please hand a note to Ratatosk next time you see him]