Good Day Brethren,
Here at St Leonards we're all just getting our breath back following yet another Harvest Festival. For any heathens amongst you, this is the time of year when we gather in, and celebrate another successful harvest of food from the land.
In every nook and cranny, hanging wicker baskets of freshly picked fruit and veg adorne the monastic cloisters.
However, this year, I've noticed the outside world is creeping ever more into the sanctity of our Priory.
Whereas once, said baskets were overflowing with wholegrain loaves, cauliflowers and ruby red apples, now, 'KFC' buckets bulge with finger lickin' cheese quarter pounders, marzipan-topped Mcflurrys, and five litre bottles of 7-Up's.
Although, Brother Ling's contribution has Starbucked the trend slightly with his number 29 with fried rice and sweet and sour sauce.
To be honest, this dietary change is having a rather unfortunate knock-on effect for the Brotherhood overall.
For instance, Brother Lardious has been noted having double helpings of mashed Foeniculum vulgare upon his Cucumis sativus - double mind you.
A result of such gorging I believe, can lead to a disease called Morbid Obesity, whereby poor souls are subjected to cruel jibes and insults along the lines of ...
'I say sir, rather rotund isn't one' 'Been consuming a rather large consignment of credit crunchy bars have we'
And ...
'I wager one needs an export licence in order to extricate one's cranium from between those humongous mammories madam'.
All devastating for those to whom these comments are directed.
Although, there is one section of our society that has managed to sidestep this crippling disease - namely - dwarfs.
I mean, have you ever seen an obese dwarf?
No, me neither, and that's for one very good reason. They know how much they've got to play with.
Think about it. At school they were always top of the class in algebra. Why?
Because they made it their business to learn that only a set number of single polynomial variables can fit into a group of modulo integers at any one time. Yes?
Simple when you see it written down is'nt it?
All of which is why you'll never see an exploding dwarf whilst strolling round the 'Trafford Centre' on a Saturday afternoon.
I mean, for Lord's sake, it'd be akin to taking the full force of an colostomy bag in the mush.
No, moderation in all things is our byword here at St Leonards, as I was only musing this very morn to Brother Inebriatious as he was brewing our daily forty gallon barrel of Mulled wine.
Ah, there's the Clarion call for Vesper.
Peace be upon you.
Brother Scaramouche
