User talk:Princess Venetia di Cannoli

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Hope little user enjoy and edit smart like Bishzilla! Please sign talk pages using, er ... many tildes (~~~~) ('zilla can only count to three, regret!), clever automagic feature. If helpless, check out questions wikipedia, ask on 'zilla talk, or put {{helpme}} on own talk, get help soon. Again, welcome! bishzilla _ROARR!! 19:59, 29 September 2007 (UTC).[reply]

Newton Surmaville

Princess, thank you for your largesse in correcting this humble servants previous edits to the article on Newton Surmaville. Humble apologies for my over reliance on the works of Mr Pevsner, and thank you for magnanimously correcting my work. If you could enlighten me further on the article that would lighten my life. Your humble & obedient servant — Rod ^talk 14:53, 30 September 2007 (UTC)[reply]

Thank you for your message. I have a copy of Mr Pevsner's volumne for North Somerset & Bristol sitting by my elbow as I write.Perhaps you would like to join few of us for a virtual soiree at Wikipedia:WikiProject Somerset?— Rod ^talk 16:37, 30 September 2007 (UTC)[reply]

Perhaps I intrude on certain circles... but I could certainly offer services as long as its not another case of Nempnett Thrubwell.— Rod ^talk 18:02, 30 September 2007 (UTC)[reply]

Mold cape

Your highness. I should like to thank you for your recent actions in arranging to have information on the afore-mentioned cape added to this repository of information. I always considered it a glaring and shameful omission, but could find only little information. There is, in my humblest opinion, still much room for expansion as regards bronze age goldwork, from Irish lunulae or the Broighter Boat to continental hoards. Maybe your man or men (forgive my ignorance and please do not mistake the meaning of that phrasing) could be encouraged in such a direction? Your humble servant, athinaios (talk) 09:57, 8 December 2007 (UTC).[reply]

Dear Mr Athinaios (or perhaps one should say "Yassou" as I see you are in the land of overly-thick yoghurt, atonal plucking, scraping and caterwauling, and man-boy love). Back from church and now to attend to my correspondence. I am sure the parson thought he was seeing to my spiritual wellbeing, but I also took the precaution of attending to the physical, in the form of a plump cushion, my trusty hipflask (given to me by Eddie, don’t you know, before that awful Simpson woman came along and quite ruined all my plans) and the latest penny dreadful by that woman who could do with a visit to the hairdressing salon. I must recommend Geraldo to her next time I see her at Cowdray.

I had a job stopping dear Catherine's dreadful grandson from carving his initials into the Georgian family box pew. A dreadfully willful child, but nothing that a few smart thwacks with the hymn book couldn't sort out. Quite how any live offspring managed to issue from Catherine's Sahara of a womb is beyond me, but she was clearly intent on continuing her line, to the detriment of the general gene pool. God help us all.

Now, to matters in hand. You refer to my man or men. Would that I had more than one (wistfully remembers back to her heydey....) That Clara Bow rumour was based on me, you know. Of course, it was nothing as vulgar as a team of American football players. Dear me, no. Naturally, it was the Oxford and Cambridge Boat Race crews that I entertained, plus Isis and Goldie and various coaches. Oh, and the man who greased the runners was in there too somewhere, I seem to recall. Ah, what a time we had. Such high-jinks.

I really have no general interest in Bronze Age golden trinkets, Mr Athinaios. I merely created the article on the Mold cape as I am in possession of the original, which was given to me by Mr Balenciaga and on which he based my coming-out ball stole. Those so-called experts at the British Museum have yet to realise that their version has been made out of chocolate coin wrappers and a few of those golden yellow confectionaries that one finds in the Quality Street tins that the lower orders have knocking around in the kitchens at the festive season. If you would like to come and visit the cape, I am sure you will find me most accommodating. Are you young and good-looking? It always helps.

Princess Venetia di Cannoli (talk) 09:21, 9 December 2007 (UTC)[reply]

Your highness. I am flattered to receive such a long missive from your very hand, which is undoubtedly busy with all too many other things. It is most humbling and impressive to hear that such a lady as yourself, in spite of so many obligations, still dutifully attends the morning service, and even takes time to see to the education of young minds such as Lady Catherine's grandson. You must be an example to the whole parish, and to all of your class (alas, so few deserve that apellation today). I would dearly like, whenever I leave Grecian shores next, to cast an eye on that cape of yours, most intriguing object that it is. I am still relatively young, and relatively good-looking (I hope), so some accommodation may be found to make such a visit mutually pleasurable. As you profess a dislike for bronze age gold, I would like to present you with this virtual iron age torc, an object which, I am sure, suits your complexion, especially if worn as the sole item of attire. Your humble servant, athinaios (talk) 09:54, 9 December 2007 (UTC).[reply]

Mr Athinaios! The impertinence! You quite overstep the mark. A lady is never dressed without her Manolos.

Princess Venetia di Cannoli (talk) 11:13, 9 December 2007 (UTC)[reply]

My sincerest apologies, your ladyship. I phrased my suggestion unfortunately vaguely. Of course,a true lady cannot ever be seen without such lovely and essential things, so unflatteringly described as footwear. Indeed, they are so much a part of her that I failed to think of them as an "item of attire". Please forgive me and blame it on the detrimental influences of my mixed upbringing and too numerous foreign stints. I will do my utmost to repair any injury I may have unwittingly caused. Your regretful and unworthy servant, athinaios (talk) 11:36, 9 December 2007 (UTC)-[reply]

DYK

On 11 December, 2007, Did you know? was updated with a fact from the article Mold cape, which you created or substantially expanded. If you know of another interesting fact from a recently created article, then please suggest it on the Did you know? talk page.

--EncycloPetey (talk) 23:33, 11 December 2007 (UTC)[reply]

One is honoured to be the first to congratulate her ladyship. athinaios (talk) 00:25, 12 December 2007 (UTC)[reply]

Ah, Mr Athinaios, good morning. I am most distressed to find that my work has been "tagged", like some common criminal. I am presently on a small excursion away from my palazzo and its not inconsiderable library, and so am unable to provide the references which are demanded. Never mind. They will follow in due time. May I thank you for your congratulations, but I must inform you that protocol demands you address me as 'Your highness'. A princess quite trumps a lady in the Top Trumps of the nobility. But I would not expect one of your rank to understand such matters.

By the way, you appear to have some souvlaki grease on your chin.

Princess Venetia di Cannoli (talk) 10:12, 12 December 2007 (UTC)[reply]

Your highness, I understand your distress about the tagging. But souvlaki grease? What a dreadful thought. It is not even gyros fat. May I recommend an optician? As Wellington said, living in a stable does not make you a horse (or something on those lines). What you spotted is a residue of Dom Pérignon. athinaios (talk) 15:48, 12 December 2007 (UTC)[reply]

Strange you should mention that, Mr Athinaios, but I had been considering visiting my Harley Street optometrist as my pince-nez have been giving me some bother. Why, only the other day I popped into my mouth what had appeared to be one of the toothsome little confections of which I am particularly fond, only to find them on tasting and then on closer inspection to be young Horace's collection of deer doings that he had amassed for his science project, and placed on my Limoges sweetmeats platter for safekeeping. Or so he told me, though the smirk on his face suggested otherwise. I fear he is exacting retribution for my attempts at disciplining him in church the other day.

Better to have Dom Pérignon's residue on your chin than the Blue Nun's, I feel.

Princess Venetia di Cannoli (talk) 16:16, 12 December 2007 (UTC)[reply]

One has not heard from your highness in some time. I trust she is well? The sun is shining on Athens (so vulgar, I much prefer calling her Athenae) these days, making the Olympieion look much like a wicket, or a croquet hoop. Delightful. Especially while sipping Cointreau. athinaios (talk) 23:41, 18 December 2007 (UTC)[reply]

Incidentally, I believe I once met that Blue Nun her highness referred to, on a hunting trip in the Black Forest. A thoroughly pious and most virtuous person, I am sure, but so unaccomplished. Very sweet, but so uninteresting. Her residue should be most undesirable. In fact, I believe a point has been made of producing it exclusively for export. Perfidious. athinaios (talk) 23:47, 18 December 2007 (UTC)[reply]

Ah, good day to you, Mr Athinaios. I have been absent these last months on my travels, but finally have returned. I met a charming young sheikh in Knightsbridge (so handsome, so lean), and he invited me to join him (for a small payment to cover his expenses) in his beit-as-shar in the desert. Ever the romantic, and mindful of the adventures of my ancestor, I travelled to the shores of Araby looking for love, but instead found I had been duped! My dreams of reposing in a silk-lined boudoir illuminated by flickering candles while the hamseen winds playfully tousled my auburn tresses were shattered. The beit-as-shar was a perfectly beastly construction which smelt of goats and which it was proposed I was to share with Saleh’s crone of a mother, three sisters and two hunting dogs. The only desert wind came from the direction of the camels. I took my leave of Saleh. My travels homewards were not straightforward, but that must wait for another time.

I trust you enjoy the Greek spring. Tell me, do those funny little men with the skirts still stand guard in Syntagma Square? One of them took umbrage when, many years ago, I attempted to establish if he was attired in the Scottish manner. Luckily I had been a whizz at the 100 yard dash at Cheltenham Ladies College and so easily outran him as he struggled in his pom-pommed slippers.

There was some other awful business in Athens - a misunderstanding - I was kneeling to help the gentleman tie his shoes in that dark alley. Luckily Papa was able to pull some strings with his old school chum Archie the ambassador there and the deportation charges were dropped, but it still left a bitter taste in my mouth.

Princess Venetia di Cannoli (talk) 16:43, 12 March 2008 (UTC)[reply]

Amusing edit summaries

Your edit summaries are amusing and funny, lol, had to say. --Matt57 ^{(talk•contribs)} 02:50, 11 March 2008 (UTC)[reply]

One fails to find any humour in the matter, Mr Matt. By the way, I do not believe we have been introduced. Did you leave your calling card with my man?

Princess Venetia di Cannoli (talk) 08:50, 12 March 2008 (UTC)[reply]

After some investigation I was unable to find who the man is? --Matt57 ^{(talk•contribs)} 01:03, 13 March 2008 (UTC)[reply]

That is because he is on his way to the dole office, no doubt with my family silver spoons jangling in his pocket, the wretched man. I am well rid of him, although he did have his uses. How tiresome for me to have to find a new manservant. I shall choose someone younger this time, someone malleable whom I can train to cater to my special and very particular needs. Are you in gainful employment at the moment, Mr Matt?

Princess Venetia di Cannoli (talk) 09:31, 13 March 2008 (UTC)[reply]

Oh, sorry to hear that. Yes I am. I would say more but m, your email is disabled. They dont like us just talking on this site, but anyway thats alright, if you have your email enabled, let me know and we can chat a bit more on email? If not thats ok, I would have to stop before being spanked by an admin. --Matt57 ^{(talk•contribs)} 12:22, 13 March 2008 (UTC)[reply]

I could no more "chat" on email, whatever that is, than fry an egg or give up my suite at Claridge's.

Princess Venetia di Cannoli (talk) 14:02, 13 March 2008 (UTC)[reply]

lol ok then, thats a nice building. Take care then. egg frying is not that hard. I figured it out when I had to do it. Just be gentle while breaking the egg into the frying pan and squirt hot oil over the yolk and make sure it doesnt stay too long on the pan or the yolk will harder. I want fried eggs now, thats it, you reminded me. Thanks and it was nice talking to you.--Matt57 ^{(talk•contribs)} 01:20, 14 March 2008 (UTC)[reply]

Poor Mr Matt, he does seems to spend a lot of time lolling about. Nothing a good constricting garment wouldn't sort out. Sadly, bad pasture is all-too prevalent in today's youth.

Princess Venetia di Cannoli (talk) 16:54, 20 March 2008 (UTC)[reply]

Mr Carter's offering

Dear lady, I would hate to offend you with my own, dare I say, occasionally plebian sensibilities, and I do have a horrible feeling that it won't match your decor, but I would like to have receive a form of recognition for your so polite contributions.

		The Barnstar of Good Humor
		For your efforts in improving the culture and manners of wikipedia, I believe you have more than earned this small token of appreciation. John Carter (talk) 21:09, 17 March 2008 (UTC)[reply]

One is most pleased, my dear Mr Carter, to receive this award. I accept it on behalf of all of us who struggle, daily, against the clamouring, unwashed masses for whom Mrs Pilkington's Book of Correct Etiquette is an unknown. And you are quite right, it most certainly does not match my decor, so I am sure that you will understand that I will not be propping it up against one of the frescoes by Giotto in my villa. I thank you for your kind thoughts, nonetheless. Are you related to dear Howard, by the way? The silly man was quite foolishly, ridiculously in love with me, and gave me a few small trinkets which rightly should have gone to Lord Carnarvon. Not that I am in a hurry to return them....

Princess Venetia di Cannoli (talk) 16:54, 20 March 2008 (UTC)[reply]

You don't like follically challenged men? I lost my nice message to John due to an edit conflict with you. ♦Blofeld of SPECTRE♦ ^$1,000,000? 19:28, 20 March 2008 (UTC)[reply]

What, pray tell, is an 'edit conflict'? There was no conflict, you merely and naturally deferred to me, as was right and proper. And whoever said I did not care for the less-hirsute gentleman? Benito was one of my closest friends until that unfortunate war business spoiled all our fun.

And Mr Blofeld, I must tell you most sternly that I do not care for intruders in my vestibule. Entry is by select invitation only. One wonders how you managed to sneak in past my man? Are you some sort of common criminal?

Princess Venetia di Cannoli (talk) 19:34, 20 March 2008 (UTC)[reply]

That I am your Highness. Ernst Stavro Blofeld, the baldest baddest criminal the world has ever seen (except perhaps Phil Mitchell from Eastenders ♦Blofeld of SPECTRE♦ ^$1,000,000? 19:47, 20 March 2008 (UTC)[reply]

Ah, I see. Having seen the photograph on your 'user page' (terrible layout, by the way), I had assumed you were that dreadful Cockney greengrocer from the television (not that I watch it; my understairs staff tediously choose to keep me informed of such matters).

Princess Venetia di Cannoli (talk) 14:50, 21 March 2008 (UTC)[reply]

Stonehenge

On 18 March, 2008, Did you know? was updated with a fact from the article Stonehenge in its landscape, which you created or substantially expanded. If you know of another interesting fact from a recently created article, then please suggest it on the Did you know? talk page.

Gimmetrow 04:11, 18 March 2008 (UTC)[reply]

Apologies

Something fashionably rustic perchance for your vestibule by way of apology?--Joopercoopers (talk) 00:48, 22 March 2008 (UTC)[reply]

One is pleased to see that you are suitably contrite, Mr Joopercoopers. I accept your offering, though I note it is a photographic reproduction, not an oil. Still, one would hardly expect the latter from such as you. I have something similar hanging in my vestibule, a charming depiction of a similarly rustic scene, though really quite why anyone would bother to paint these hovels when they could paint my palazzo or such like is beyond me.

I am pleased to see that you are a landowner, like myself. We must stick together, especially in these times of the so-called "right to roam". Pshaw, never heard of anything so ridiculous in all my life. I get Higgins to chase the bobble-hatted, map-waving, fol-de-rolling tramps off with a shotgun. It most certainly does the trick. And I do hope that you charge the bumpkins who grind their corn or oats or whatever it is in your mill a good stout fee. I expect they will whinge, as the lower orders are wont to do at every opportunity, but it really all is for their own good. I paid special attention to Mr Peter Rachman's business practices and find that they are most satisfactory.

Incidentally, I think you need to get your water bailiff to see to the sides of your leat. An overgrown and untidy channel is most unsightly. Higgins keeps mine neatly clipped.

Princess Venetia di Cannoli (talk) 08:59, 22 March 2008 (UTC)[reply]

Stretton water mill

Have nominated this image at Wikipedia:Featured picture candidates - Wikipedia:Featured picture candidates/Stretton water mill per request on FP talkpage. Drop by if you want to take a look or vote on it. Good luck. --jjron (talk) 14:15, 15 April 2008 (UTC)[reply]

BTW, in future, if you want to nominate for FPC you can drop an image onto the Wikipedia:Picture peer review page (it's an easier process than FPC), or drop me a message on my talkpage if you'd prefer. You're not really meant to put them on the talkpages, and the FP talkpage is pretty low traffic. --jjron (talk) 14:50, 15 April 2008 (UTC)[reply]

Grave concern

Your highness; one is quite concerned at finding that you appear to have been unwilling or unable to contribute wisdom of any kind to these pages. I trust you are well? athinaios | Talk 16:31, 25 June 2008 (UTC)[reply]

Ah, my dear Mr Athinaios. How perfectly delightful to hear from you. One had become somewhat concerned, on noting your absence, that you had been crushed by a trench collapse in some toumba on a dusty Macedonian plain, or perforce had succumbed to the overly-strong fumes emanating from the HMG glue with which you were reconstructing the broken shards of a pithos. But all is well with the world of archaeology, and you have returned, with your charmingly knitted striped jumper (so individual. Did your mother knit it? Does she have a sight impediment, by any chance?) and your luxuriously-growing (if somewhat straggly) beard, and of course, your trusty tankard. I expect your fellow diggers are waiting with fevered anticipation for your nightly rendition of The Threshing Machine. What larks! It quite reminds me of my time with Morty up on the ramparts of Maiden Castle. He was most insistent that I should learn the rudiments of deep stratigraphy from the master. I, of course, was a most willing and diligent student.

I am currently working on a piece on a most delightful villa in Italy. Ah me, what gay times we all had there, back in my salad days! (I can assure you that I was anything but green. Poor Greta, that drab and gloomy Scandawegian, had simply no idea about Leopold and me). Please feel free to join me in my endeavour, if you feel you can contribute, Mr Athinaios. One always feels the more the merrier. In fact, bring your friends. You will find that I am most accommodating in my desire to share, to open up to all.

By the way, you appear to have some detritus caught up in your facial growth. A little of yesterday's spanakopita, perhaps? I would get your man to wipe it off, if I were you. It is most disconcerting to behold, and not a little transfixing, though the bright green tones do complement your complexion rather.

Princess Venetia di Cannoli (talk) 14:45, 28 June 2008 (UTC)[reply]

Hello, Princess Venetia di Cannoli. You have new messages at Geaugagrrl's talk page.
You can remove this notice at any time by removing the {{Talkback}} or {{Tb}} template.

DYK for Villa Cimbrone

On 18 November, 2008, Did you know? was updated with a fact from the article Villa Cimbrone, which you created or substantially expanded. If you know of another interesting fact from a recently created article, then please suggest it on the Did you know? talk page.

17:31, 18 November 2008 (UTC)

To please you, Serenissima, I have inserted a soothing quotation from Catullus as it appears on a plaque at Villa Cimbrone.--Wetman (talk) 15:48, 19 November 2009 (UTC)[reply]

Mr Wetman, first you are tweaking and then you are inserting, and I fear we have not even been properly introduced. The impropriety! People will talk! Please leave your card in my vestibule.

It is a lovely quotation, you are quite right. "And we returned, tired from our travelling, to our home / To rest on the bed we have longed for". Ah me, away on my travels, how many times this last year have I longed for my bed? It's a jolly nice one, with plenty of room.

Princess Venetia di Cannoli (talk) 17:09, 19 November 2009 (UTC)[reply]

The horror, the horror!

Almost exactly a year since I last took up my quill to scribe on these pages, I return from my travels to find Wonkypedia a very changed place, full of disconcerting and disturbing developments.

To my shock I have discovered a most distressing fact. Luckily my maid-servant Drusilla was at hand to minister smelling salts and to fan sweet wafts of fresh air over me as I retched with the cognisance, but still I am deeply troubled. The awfulness is this: my dear (if somewhat difficult) sister Catherine has been unmasked - as a man! Now so many troubling aspects of my past come sharply into focus, and finally make sense.

I am reminded of the time when we were holidaying on our family steam yacht on Lake Geneva, and a terrible storm blew up one night. Clad only in her nightgown, Catherine came bursting into my cabin and insisted in clambering into bed with me, clinging to me in her terror at the tumultuous tempest outside. As the storm raged and the boat rocked back and forth, tossed on the waves, I felt something that was - how shall I put this delicately? - Not Quite Right. I suggested to Catherine that she should seek immediate medical advice from our family physician, fearing it a hernia or, heaven forbid, a tumour. Now I understand the true nature of that dreadful protuberance. And what I had assumed to be a “girlish pash” on Miss Staverling, our governess, I now realise was something far more base; the time I chanced on them in the boot room "comparing butterflies" (as they told me) now takes on a far less innocent aspect.

Now all makes sense - her manly gait, her delight in coarse talk and her terrible discomfort when riding side-saddle. I assumed her like for cigar smoking was an affectation à la Radclyffe Hall, and that her deep voice had developed over years of shouting at the understairs staff. Her overly-hirsute chin I always put down to unfortunate genes which I have fortunately been spared (darling grandmama always sported a fine moustache), whereas now I realise it to be a result of her - nay!, his - true self. And of course, Catherine's unnatural and ungodly appetites are now explained. The beastliness is all too much to bear!

To whom can I turn in my confusion, my hour of need? It is the footman’s day off and Doctor Runcible, my Harley Street physician, is strangely unavailable. I may have to wander down to the hothouse to see if Higgins can offer me some solace. He is always so happy to serve.

Princess Venetia di Cannoli (talk) 13:30, 19 November 2009 (UTC)[reply]

My dear lady, you have our sympathies as you valiantly carry on through this most unsettling of developments. Perhaps if you cannot contact your own doctor, I could set up an appointment with own physician. If you could see your own physician, were it me, cad that I am, instead of you, I might be questioning the good gentleman regarding why he seems to have given none of the members of your family any sort of indication of this fact, which I am assuming was rather an obvious one to him. But by all means, contact Higgins. Should worst come to worst, I may send my son down to you to take you over to my own family doctor. I have always found him very useful when dealing with some of the "oddities" of my soon-to-be-ex-wife's family, the eggs in particular. John Carter (talk) 15:16, 19 November 2009 (UTC)[reply]

Mr Carter, I thank you for your kind words, and how pleasant it is to have concourse with you again. Our old family physician, Dr Sessamoid, was a delightful old man but a short-sighted and bumbling fool, and so his failure to recognise Catherine's "condition", shall we say, does not surprise me. I cannot for the life of me understand why my father continued to employ his services for so many years, especially after the distasteful affair of the unlanced boil, the lancing needle and the loose Persian rug. The re-decorating fees were not inconsiderable, and did nothing to improve my father's humour as he struggled to sit comfortably on that funny 'O'-shaped cushion. Poor, dear Papa, how he suffered.

Princess Venetia di Cannoli (talk) 17:09, 19 November 2009 (UTC)[reply]

DYK for Stirlingshire Hoard

On November 22, 2009, Did you know? was updated with a fact from the article Stirlingshire Hoard, which you created or substantially expanded. You are welcome to check how many hits your article got while on the front page _{(here's how)} and add it to DYKSTATS if it got over 5,000. If you know of another interesting fact from a recently created article, then please suggest it on the Did you know? talk page.

Materialscientist (talk) 19:15, 22 November 2009 (UTC)[reply]

DYK for Newark Torc

On December 3, 2009, Did you know? was updated with a fact from the article Newark Torc, which you created or substantially expanded. You are welcome to check how many hits your article got while on the front page _{(here's how)} and add it to DYKSTATS if it got over 5,000. If you know of another interesting fact from a recently created article, then please suggest it on the Did you know? talk page.

Materialscientist (talk) 00:03, 3 December 2009 (UTC)[reply]

DYK for Sedgeford Torc

On December 9, 2009, Did you know? was updated with a fact from the article Sedgeford Torc, which you created or substantially expanded. You are welcome to check how many hits your article got while on the front page _{(here's how)} and add it to DYKSTATS if it got over 5,000. If you know of another interesting fact from a recently created article, then please suggest it on the Did you know? talk page.

Materialscientist (talk) 00:14, 9 December 2009 (UTC)[reply]

British Museum objects per chance?

Your highness, May I intrude on your precious time to enquire whether your staff have made you aware of the current British Museum/WikiPedia initiative? With your extensive knowledge and intimate acquaintance with many of the Empires most treasured relics, I wondered whether you would consider contributing to this attempt to bring the relevant areas of this humble repository of your wisdom to a higher standard. I assume you would have no interest in the common inducement of a prize for enhancement of these articles. One wonders whether you have encountered any of the objects or individuals itemised at Category:British Museum or have insights which are not accessible to your humble servant— Rod ^talk 14:02, 17 June 2010 (UTC)[reply]

Good day to you, Mr Rod, and how pleasant to have concourse with you once again. It is very kind of you to notify me of the endeavours of the British Museum Task Force, or whatever it is they are called. We are all very impressed with their industry. You will see from my previous contributions that naturally the only objects in which I am interested are golden ones: I had my man type out a few pages on various geegaws that caught my eye, including a couple that reside in the British Museum. (Actually, as expounded above, the Museum has but one as I own the original of the Mold cape. The curators have yet to realise what their Welsh golden treasure really comprises).

The last time I was in the British Museum there was an unfortunate incident in the Assyrian Basement when one of the curators objected to me using one of the tatty old friezes to stub out my cigarette (I am much too refined and thoughtful to allow it to burn a hole in their carpet), but I'm sure the ripped uniforms have been mended, the reliefs stuck together and safely fixed back on to the walls again, and the whole silly brouhaha forgiven and forgotten. And so of course I would be more than happy to present the prize to the winning entrant. My fees are very reasonable and my only requirement is that, like dear Princess Margaret before me when visiting the British Museum, I expect there to be a flunkey at hand to refresh my g&t glass whenever required. I also require 60 Balkan Sobranies (never heard anything as ridiculous as a smoking ban) and a room with Sky TV so I can keep up with the racing results. Presenting the prize money will be a great pleasure (I may, however, substitute a personal cheque for the prize cash. I'm sure that will be acceptable). I do so like to encourage the youth of today, especially the handsome, eligible ones, of whom I am sure there are many hundreds beavering away feverishly at their computers at home.

I see you are from Somerset. Have your parts been invaded yet?

Princess Venetia di Cannoli (talk) 15:07, 17 June 2010 (UTC)[reply]

Thank you for your gracious response. I'm sure the organisers would be delighted to receive your generous offer. My minimal and humble contribution to this endeavour is to enhance the article about the Sweet Track.

My parts are still pristine, however the gates do not open until Wednesday, when I shall be visiting the land of the great unwashed and sampling a few of the cultural delights.— Rod ^talk 15:25, 17 June 2010 (UTC)[reply]

Ugh, I shudder at the thought, Mr Rod. Make sure the gates of your estate are locked and your beadle is out and about with his dogs, loaded shotgun and man traps. We must stick together at times like these. It is very noble of you to act as our intelligence gathering agent, sacrificing your personal comfort, most likely your health and wellbeing (and indeed, possibly even your life itself amongst those ne'er-do-wells and cutpurses) to bring back news that will assist us in our struggle against the massing hordes. We live in perilous times indeed.

A whole article about some twigs? How extraordinary. I realise life in the countryside must offer few distractions, but even so ...

Princess Venetia di Cannoli (talk) 15:39, 17 June 2010 (UTC)[reply]

I have been "gathering intelligence" at said event since 1981 & I believe this is my 25th foray into this unsanitary environment. My physical health has never been damaged however my psychological state remains suspect.

The twigs concerned pre-date even your esteemed lineage and most of our cultural institutions - perhaps the ancestors who used them laid down the basis of today's society.— Rod ^talk 16:02, 17 June 2010 (UTC)[reply]

Returned - I see!

Venetia darlingest, I was not expecting to see you retured to us quite so soon, is it really that many months since your last edit - good behaviour? You are looking so young and fresh, obviously a few months of simple food, no alcohol and early nights has suited you. You look barely a day over 75, you must give me your surgeon's name - obviously very skillful, I might need him myself in 20 years or so. So are you to delight us with a new page? I can barely wait! Lady Catherine de Burgh (the Late) (talk) 21:57, 17 June 2010 (UTC)[reply]

Pah! I think someone around here has an intimate knowledge of surgery, Catherine, and it isn't me. Contrary to what you might think, I have been busy these past months doing charitable works, helping a struggling community who are suffering the most terrible persecution and insults. I have been hard at work overseas, bringing care packages of food and other necessaries to the poor unfortunates. The lot of the high-born is indeed a hard one.

With you in mind, I was thinking of starting a page on some strange, enigmatic creatures, but someone has already beaten me to it. I have grown tired of golden baubles - I have so many of them and they are not a little vulgar, don't you think?

By the way, I don't know if you have been introduced, but I would steer clear of Mr Rod if I were you: I think he is one of them. And talking of young men, have you noticed the remarkable resemblance between little Giacomo and his great-uncle? The likeness is quite uncanny.

Now I have pressing matters to which I must attend: Higgins needs to deposit another pitcherful over Mr Wetman. The poor, deluded boy is certainly tenacious in his pursuit. When last I looked he had padlocked himself to my railings and torn his shirt open to expose his chest, which he beats savagely, lost in his frenzied passion for me. I think when he has recovered his senses I might recommend a few trips to the gym. A young man is always so much more appealing when he is pumped up.

Princess Venetia di Cannoli (talk) 10:53, 18 June 2010 (UTC)[reply]

I hesitate to contradict your regal perceptions about me, and it is a while since the label young has been applied, however I have never before been called one of them, however other labels have been applied which may be more pleasing - and I will be travelling in a suitable vehicle. The lot of the low-born can also be a hard one.— Rod ^talk 11:16, 18 June 2010 (UTC)[reply]

Sturdy yeomen such as yourself have as important place in the scheme of things as, well, other sturdy yeomen, as I am sure you will agree, Mr Rod. As long as we all know our places and remain in them, all will be well. My chairmanship of the Parish Council, Women's Institute and place on the Bench, as well as my horsewhip and six foot high estate wall with electrified double razor wire helps maintain the proper social order. And I am of such years that nearly everyone (apart from Catherine) appears young to me. It seems I am ever to be tormented by visions of youthful beauty, by rippling muscles, firm manly torsos, by bulging biceps and throbbing veins. That reminds me. Where is Higgins with my early evening stiffener?

Princess Venetia di Cannoli (talk) 17:37, 18 June 2010 (UTC)[reply]

I, your highness, am back. You appear to be away?

I have returned, at least for the moment. Some issues here had always tempted me, but other issues kept me in the so-called real world. I wonder where her ladyship might be (and my internal spell-check fails to recognise the word "ladyship". indicating quite how far we have come). Princess, highness, where are you?

Hmm. Someone clearly needs to be sent a box of chocolates and a copy of, perhaps, Astrophil and Stella. Drmies (talk) 19:20, 31 October 2013 (UTC)[reply]