Might sound weird... Adult Adoption

Quandry? Lady of the Big Fat Old Mess doesn't roll off the tongue?

Been there, done that.

Pep (In a very up-market brothel; keeping the girls amused between tricks; the job also covered recruitment and quality control. )

I'm pretty sure that Jig is not a member of the Jackson family.

Pep (Well, maybe Gordon Jackson's.)

No, no, no, no... they must all title each other and that's that.

And I don't speculate upon whom everyone might be in That Other World. Save that I'm pretty sure none of them are Belle de Jour, now that she's outed herself.

Another of my alts busted, dammit.

Pep (had better start another generation.)

I'm sure my Jiggy was just doing her utmost to particpate in her noble guardian's charity work. She's a good girl at heart.

But does your power of veto out-veto mine? It's important to establish the protocol here.

/me thinks - I'd like to be a Dame - Dame Deira has such a nice ring to it.

Tread lightly or loafers won't be dropping, they'll be flying

I just added her today I forgot to comeback and check this post lol.

I'll take Baroness any day. I'm not proud (well, yes, I am but that's another story) No complaints from me. Actually I've been wanting that title since I was a "slip of a girl" as Foster-Mater put it.

Im so busy at the mo' I've gotta be slogging for next few days in REAL WORK which it appears you havent got a clue about.

In terms of being heir to teh Shang fortunes, I can tell you know that Ponce "Caliper-Eyes" Truman (Uncle Des's lawyer) wrote to me about being executor for our dear uncle when he finally rolls over and gives it all up. Our Mater is back in rehab (Scylla will please please stop pouring Mother's Ruin (Gin) down her throat; she's a dipsomaniac already. and NO I am not paying any more fees for imaginary uni classes for YOU. Go out and make an honest living for a change on Queen Street.

Also my computers really screwing up so I may be off sl for a few days while I work out what to do.
love and kisses
Jiggy

You have to do something to be a dame, Mama. Being Gin-sozzled on teh family estate in teh middle of nowehere with nothing but sheep and bunnies for companions just wont cut it with Honours List.
You have to be in teh entertainment industry liek me

*purchases an ancient, drafty Scot tower keep on the rainswept, rocky shores of the ridiculously remote Loch Midgebarren, isle of Rockall*

So ~ who wants to go on a little family vacation? I've ah... got to stay behind on business for... just a few days. I'll be right up! I promise!

Sure!!!

(As long as there's internet)

I will keep to my current arrangements, thank you, and await the details of my pending title. Bon Voyage.

can I bring my new bodyguard cum personal assistant cum massage therapist?

Oh are you coming too? I bags the Tower Suite. It's got a bath. Taurus will sleep at teh foot of the bed. He's the bodyguard.
I may need to dictate an email in the middle of the night to my husband.
(And NO, I didnt marry him for his money - I thought he was very, very clever).

HUSBAND? What is this? Hypothetical, I trust.

I don't think I received it - I'll check and send you one, Roberta

So long as there's a good supply of Scotch. (I'm off G&T now.)

Oh no! She can't have gone and married Pep!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

/me holds back of hand to brow and elegantly faints.

Right then. No internet at Loch Midgebarren, 'tis for the best now, no?


Personal assistants can stay in the Mews (provided they are above water).

Noooooooooooooooooooo!!!

I will NOT be attending family outings and holiday dinners if HE is accompanying Jig!!!

/me scrambles through Deira's luggage in search of her bottle of Scotch . . .

Is there a ruinous old attic apartment?

I've decided I want to be the madwoman in the attic.



(I may not have a choice, given the close physical proximity of a family like THIS.)

Hang on a second, back to this husband thing. I can only hope you mean Hal

Taurus? Is that Pep's nickname?

What about my granddaughter, will she be tagging along?

Clearly if Deira is off the wagon and the servants are drowning in the stables (I most certainly do not drink gin, I can't even tolerate the smell of it), I will be catching a ferry to make sure none of you end up having a Scottish luau of gull, bunny and sheep. Or each other, at this rate! Since we have stables, I can only pray that means the island is big enough to ride off periodically when I feel myself succumbing to the quarrels and gin fumes.

The only upshot of this whole new disaster is that at least *I* will still be going to Switzerland shortly. I warned all of you. If only you had listened. Scottish island indeed. Have any of you been in those castles in the winter? DO you not know how the wind blows? Good god, what have you done? Have you even checked to see if the windows are glazed?

It's just one of those Las Vegas things.

Naw! It's Hal, silly! You know, when I say "old age is getting on top of me" , I dont mean to say I've got creaky joints like Gramma or Uncle Dez. I mean its Hal. Tagging along about five paces behind with the Louis Vuiton totes and stuff. And no, I don't own a chiuauahaha - I ate the last one by accident.

Anyway, we have an open relationship. He loves to keep up with me. And what the eye doesnt see, the heart doesn grieve for, innit?

Taurus is my bodyguard. I mask his name in forum coz, well, coz he has his tasks to fulfil in sl when I'm not there. A quick IM and whoomph kersplunk, with glittery humpy landing he's there.

Anywho, I like a bit of a draft. And castle sound do-uppable so I may call for Cecil to take a gander for a spot of artistic decorator. You'll love it Scylla - all that bracing fresh air and tweeds You wont have to wory about not having a bf at your age. You can just get drunk all day on Malt and shag the gameskeeper. (After I've had a round or two with him)

Yeah, I'm a bit worried about Pep, but you know what they say? I can see him now, darkly muttering about the expense of the loaf of bread and being sanctimoniously pious in his kilt and codpiece. Methodist Presbyterian and Churchof Scotland rolled into one with an eye for the Heathers and Lassies. Misrable as always he will schlag around, up and down teh turret stairs grimping about us. A bit like Joseph in Wuthering Heights crossed with Uriah Heep, I reckon.

Now I am on the road again and am gonna be incommunicading for a few hours, so I wanna read about the arrangements when I get back. (wont be gone more tan a day)