P.G.W. how I love thee
“Alf Todd,” said Ukridge, soaring to an impressive burst of imagery, “has about as much chance as a one-armed blind man in a dark room trying to shove a pound of melted butter into a wild cat’s left ear with a red-hot needle.”
And this, ladies and gentlemen, is why I love P.G. Wodehouse to bits and pieces. And why I made this page into my new homepage:
(found via LiveJournal, in the comments for one of the LDS Sparkledammerung posts,
which are in itself a work of art and good for hours of belly laughs)
Wodehouse is my absolute favourite. Such gentle wit, which was obviously the result of very hard work. I once fell off a chair — literally — onto the floor, because I was laughing so much at one of his stories.
Only once? You’re good then. I have made a habit out of falling off of things (chairs, benches, you name it) when I read something funny and start laughing really hard. And sometimes even when I’m not.