Brixley here, after the unpleasantries of yesternoon I decided to skip the country as the heat from Oxford and Webster trebled (approximatedly). I am currently flying and have since been abovegraded to upperclass after I claimed to be the Prince of Newfoundland and said I needed more space to worship my numerous heathen gods. The flying machine seems to be doing a good job and I have procured a lapcomputer from the gentleman who left it in my baggage hold. The help has stopped serving me martinis so I paid a small child to pilfer a lovely bottle of single malt, why the frequency of child pickpockets has dropped off I shall never know, their hands are the perfect size for theft. Anythou I must depart as a gentleman seems to be trying to take this portacomputer away from me (He might be working for Webster) but I’ll try to bribemail him with some scotch.
P. Augustine's Sofa Chair
Brixley here, woke up today in a tuxedo with a hip-flask of martini taped to my calf. I have somehow travelled to Bruges during the cover of nightfall after a particularly sprightly night at one of P. Augustine’s biannual “After Dark” parties. I shall keep you postered howevermore since I discovered a death-threat from Oxford in my coat pocket along with a train station locker key and a heart shaped butterscotch shortbread – crumbled.
Brixley here, just letting you know that I have evolved to the digital age or ‘digage’ as they say or so I have been led to believe. Firstmost and premierly I will be updating this digital logbook with my reportaging as I continue upon my misadventures. Secondest I will try not to make up words as Oxford and Webster have been on my case, but believe me their uppance will come.
Unfortunately in Brussels it is 4:20 in the after midday and I have an appointment with my good friend and editor J.R.Bingham. In my next post I will hopefully have a blurred picturegraph of ‘man-about-town’ P. Augustine’s sofa chair, here’s hoping.