Aunt Agatha has some sage advice for a certain phoney rocketman…
I’ve checked you out, and can confirm that you need a make-over. People are tired of you. You’re too predictable, and that’s dull. You’ll go for any story to get your photo up front. You were fun for a time when you had talented designers build and pilot your balloons and speedboats while you took credit, but everyone’s tired of hearing you say “I’ll be in space within two years” for the past 14 years.
Quite 😉
I fucking HATE Branson, he is such a phoney
I talked to him a few times on the phone back in the 70’s when his only business was a record company and I was a rock critic. It soon became apparent that he knew fuck all about rock music but his one and only talent was to employ people who did.
You lot have forgotten relativity! His mind is flying around the planet so fast that he suffers from time dilation. He probably still thinks he has most of two years to spare. Or is he on Jupiter time? (12 of our years to one Jupiter year, approx.)
As an American, I sometimes have difficulty identifying Aunt Agatha’s correspondents. Not this time.
I must say, Auntie A. has a way with words — and it both rhymes and scans. A shoo-in for your next Poet Laureate!
By the way, I can tell you what happened to those beds. They were sold to to American hospitals and clinics for use during sleep studies and don’t-even-twitch cataract surgery.
Plagiarism Julie. It’s an old rhyme… It’s not the cough that will carry you off, It’s the coffin they carry you off in…
Well, a time-honored practice. In the immortal words of Tom “Poisoning the Pigeons in the Park” Lehrer,
“Plagiarize, Plagiarize, Plagiarize!”