starring a small fraction of the approximately 1 million dogs in New York City
Saturday, May 3, 2008
luigi
You'd look miffed too if you were an English bulldog with an Italian name.
1 comment:
Anonymous
said...
Could be worse, old sport. Blasphemous as it is, it could be an English bulldog with a Frog name! But Luigi’s a fine name. Makes me think of Marchesa Castiglione. Of course you remember the Marchesa? Though she wouldn’t like me to remember, she was once just Penny Forsythe from Marylebone, until Castiglione met her at the Ritz and whisked her off to his palazzo where they have a damn fine butler or whatever it’s called down there and his name is Luigi. Well even though she puts on the most egregious airs, the Marchesa (or Pens as I like to tease her with) hosts the finest parties that side of the Channel has ever seen. Always worth a trip to the sinking city even if all those tomato and garlic sauces wreck one’s constitution. About a fortnight ago I was at her masked ball and had the most fright-making experience involving mistaken identities, masks, moonlit serenades, champers and that dowdy girl Saffron Halls-Smythe. Quite Shakespearean stuff it all ended up being. Those blasted canals do the strangest things to a chap.
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1 comment:
Could be worse, old sport. Blasphemous as it is, it could be an English bulldog with a Frog name! But Luigi’s a fine name. Makes me think of Marchesa Castiglione. Of course you remember the Marchesa? Though she wouldn’t like me to remember, she was once just Penny Forsythe from Marylebone, until Castiglione met her at the Ritz and whisked her off to his palazzo where they have a damn fine butler or whatever it’s called down there and his name is Luigi. Well even though she puts on the most egregious airs, the Marchesa (or Pens as I like to tease her with) hosts the finest parties that side of the Channel has ever seen. Always worth a trip to the sinking city even if all those tomato and garlic sauces wreck one’s constitution. About a fortnight ago I was at her masked ball and had the most fright-making experience involving mistaken identities, masks, moonlit serenades, champers and that dowdy girl Saffron Halls-Smythe. Quite Shakespearean stuff it all ended up being. Those blasted canals do the strangest things to a chap.
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