Lord Marmalade's Manor

I have just discovered a wiki for all things furry

http://furry.wikia.com/

Viv assures me that this is quite humorous.

Daydreaming in the garden

A half-score years ago opportunity and certain legal proceedings washed me upon the fairly shores of the Americas. After a time I longed for the damp familiarity of Brighton beach in the summer, especially the festivities of St. Swithins Day at the naturist retreat in Scroton-On-Sea. Faithful manservant Vivian sussed that my over-bilious nature belied a craving for the sea and found a suitable retreat for our celebration of the naturist lifestyle we once enjoyed in the Fair Isle here in the colonies.

The food at Brighton was food. There were a few Strand items as in fried wibby-sot with white gravy and burnt sugar-tots. When hungry we quite simply eat food or perchance on the nonce a curry or Italian pizza if we are “going down Knightsbridge”. You Yanks treat every meal as if you had a Magical Carpet to travel round the Empire. You never just go out for just food. This is ironic for a nation whose citizens rarely travel beyond its borders or learn a language other than the common-ish dialect of the Queen’s English upon with which you struggle.

Thus we larked upon the shoal-currents of mis-adventure and sought the meat of pleasure upon these fair shores. Viv found us a most exquisite site for our recreations in Virginia. Our destination twas replete with kit-optional beach and outdoor natatorium. As this was my first jaunt upon an American recreational seaside habitat, I expected little in the way of gustatory surprise.

Quel surprise!

Up to that point I suffered my asylum in the Colonies with your moderate climate and expensive dental surgeries. Then I discovered that a Naturist lifestyle could be had in a comfortably warm environ with one added pleasure … strand food. O sweet delights! Although bears, goat-boys and man- rams were welcome, our dear corgis had to remain at Marmalade manor with Stig and Simon. Bye bye Nanette, Suki, Mimsy, and Puddles.

Having eschewed the vulgar temptations of highway food, even The Dairy Queen, we arrived at our resort quite famished. By tea the borborygmous appeals from Viv and Bev were a tad frightening, conjuring visions of the anthropophagous jungle lads of Borneo. We shed our togs and explored the grounds. There were a number of vendors vending their alimentations on the village green esplanade near a scherenschnitte class on the lawn.

Whilst cotton candy is delightful, it is a bit unpleasant when it gets stuck to one’s chest hair in the summer heat. Although it does make a festive merkin. Moving on from spun sugar cod pieces, there was a cornucopia of grilled and fried meats.

The corn dog. It is a frankfurter dipped in cornbread and fried … on a stick. You Yanks! Delightful. Thank goodness gracious there was an abundance of physical activities from badminton, croquet, water polo and ocean swimming to work off the calories, because we had no idea what delights the week would bring. No soggy fish and chips or tofu vindaloo.

There were foot long hot dogs, pigs in a blanket, French fries with malted vinegar, Mr. Softy soft conettes, Slurpees, Crackerjacks, snow cones, fish sticks without sticks, nachos, salsa and smoothies. Oh smoothies!

The only treat that baffled us was the salt water taffy. How can anyone chew that?