News from the Capital

Good evening, faithful readers.

Today, I have been the recipient of some most dissappointing information. It would appear that Mr. Simmerin is not, in fact, in possession of a Castle, Palace, Manor House or similar. Nor is he in possession of an even halfway decent Fortune, I fear. Since he has declined to answer my friendly questions, I was forced to do some research on my reader's behalf, and it would appear that he came from something called a Petri Dish, followed by a childhood in the Battersea Power Station, whatever that is. These are not the kind of origins of which one would normally boast, particularly not if one has no money.
While I would not wish to appear mercenary in any way, it is true that wealth has it's benefits.
Dear, dear Sir Cecil; what was I thinking??? On a lighter note, this morning I marvelled at the sheer diversity of people flocking to the Forrester Gallery to view this Steampunk exhibition---it was abundantly clear to me that all sorts of people wish they could live in my Reality, rather than this somewhat anemic replica in which I currently find myself. Perhaps some of them will catch a vision of a different world, one where plastic doesn't exist, and men are Real Men, and women are Curvaceous, and not half-starved. When I asked my Companion about the undernourished females portrayed as beautiful in this world, I almost laughed myself sick!!! In my world, if someone pulled that stunt, we'd turn the Maximiser gun on them, and they would explode!!! And serve them right, too.