User talk:Catherine de Burgh/Catherine de Burgh

Dear Lady, I have the good fortune to be a distant American relation of yours, and am the owner of some sources for the under-researched life (or what your aunt—you know the one I mean—used to playfully call "the goings-on") of members of your family in Paris in the 1920s. These sources include manuscripts, as well as romans à clef published by the famous Obelisk and Olympia presses, and now rare. I have also located some fugitive publications in my national "Library of Congress" (an inferior but sometimes useful copy of the British Library), which throw new light on your mother's Bloomsbury connections, as well as more recent activities of your own. May I have the honor (please excuse my American spellings, they issue from me spontaneously!) of adding some references and revelations to this supremely interesting biography? Alternatively, would you mind transferring £20,000 to the Cayman National Bank Ltd no later than October 15th 2007 (account details will follow off-wiki)? Your well-wisher, Frutti di Mare 08:02, 24 September 2007 (UTC).

Dear Mr di Mare (are you by any chance one of the Taormina di Mares? - such a nice family of very high and noble birth) I would be happy to donate £20,000 for your expenses such a reasonable sum when one considers the potential use to scholars of my family. I remember well the goings on in the family at the turn of the last century - such high and merry jinks, though I hope you are not referring to the wrongful imprisonment of my nephew Tarquin de Vere, Tarquin was a very delicate boy who was merely taking nocturnal photographs for his book "The Conveniences of Hyde Park" when he was wrongfully arrested, many of his closest friends including Oscar Wilde gave him character references - all in vain, so very sad he emerged from prison a changed man. Catherine de Burgh (Lady) 16:11, 24 September 2007 (UTC)

Ah, little Elmer, I wondered what had happened to you. Do you still have that delightful dimple? The mouth full of metal was a trifle off-putting, I might add.

However, I see that in other ways you have not changed one jot. I remember how, on discovering me with a certain item (it was a neck massager, as I told you then and repeat, most sternly, to you now) you deftly extracted what you so charmingly called a 'levy' from me. But such are the ways of youth, and I see that you have made a good life for yourself with a fine family company in the Colonies.

I hope that American spellings are the only thing that issue from you spontaneously. Your father (so I heard) was similarly afflicted.

Your loving great-aunt

Princess Venetia di Cannoli 19:47, 29 September 2007 (UTC)

My sister's intransigence

My dearest Elmer,

I must thank you for your thoughtful editorial amendations to a certain page. I must admit that I was a trifle confused and not a little hurt by my sister's actions. She alerted me to her biographical page, informing me of its most recent updating with material which concerns me, yet when I made but a few minor changes to correct some factual inaccuracies - merely crossing the ts and dotting the is (unlike darling Catherine, who crosses her eyes, so unfortunate) - she told me to (and I can scarce bring myself to write this) - 'Piss off'. Surely she must remember that Mama always drilled into us that it is 'Piss orf'?

I trust that all is well with you. Of course, it is quite inappropriate for me to deal with the moneys to which you refer. You may approach my man. I do need to warn you, though, dearest Elmer, that I am a tad asset rich and capital poor at the moment, due to a disastrous night at Monte Carlo. Maybe we can come to an, how shall I put this, accommodation? Enough for now: I must off to church. The family pew is a little uncomfortable and the Parson's dronings do seem so interminable, but my hipflask of gin and copy of The Lady will see me through.

Your loving great-aunt

Princess Venetia di Cannoli 08:52, 30 September 2007 (UTC)

An Invitation

My Dear Lady Catherine,

PiCo, (that is not Pico as in Mirandola, but PiCo as in PeekyPooky) and I are giving a little dinner party to honour a certain well-known, highly original and most entertaining gentleman. (well, he is almost a gentleman, if one can forgive his outlandish taste in clothes, overlook the matter of estate and excuse the regretable lack of a formal union between his parents.) I am informed that the gentleman once painted a portrait of an ancestor of your Ladyship. You are certainly very like, except for the minor detail of facial hair. Your ancestor was, it seems, equipped with a pair of tweezers.

The guest list is displayed at the following location[1]. I do trust my Lady is in good form and ready to kick up her heels a little!

Yours mooosst respectfully,

Amanda Jane Pidilgumbilli Maddison-FitzWallaby —Preceding unsigned comment added by Amandajm (talk • contribs) 13:47, 4 October 2007 (UTC)