Goveller’s Travels
September 3rd 1727
The superforecaster’s lair on fire; the author instrumental in extinguishing.
The reader may remember that when I signed the articles upon which I recovered my sovereignty, there were some I disliked upon account of their submitting me to
September 3rd 1727
The superforecaster’s lair on fire; the author instrumental in extinguishing.
The reader may remember that when I signed the articles upon which I recovered my sovereignty, there were some I disliked upon account of their submitting me to
these Tory imbeciles. Day to day offices such as lying to the public, journalists and myself were not beneath my dignity, but pumping out E45 with every P45 to keep the hands of the unemployed soft after each rejection handshake was. Happily, it was not long before I had an
opportunity of doing little emperor Dom Dom a most single service. I was alarmed at midnight with the cries of many hundreds at my door, entreating me to come immediately to the Tories Weapons And Tactics Superdome, a fusion of Daily Mail Iranian Embassy Siege cross section,
the control room in Apollo 13, and a teenage incel’s fantasy bedroom. A data-node in which Dom Dom employed the ideas of books he hadn’t understood and trawled the files of everyone who’d bullied him at school whilst wearing a hands-free headset of, it had caught fire by the
carelessness of a minuscule maid called James Cleverly who had fallen asleep in the Deliveroo order-tracking suite while reading the latest romance by Nadine Dorries. I got up in an instant and it being a moonshine night, made a shift to get to the palace without trampling many
people. They were well provided with buckets the size of large thimbles and supplied me with them as fast they could: but the flame was so violent they did little. The case seemed wholly desperate and deplorable; and the superforcaster’s lair would have infallibly been burnt
down to the ground, if, by a presence of mind unusual to me, I had not suddenly thought of an expedient. I had, the evening before, drunk plentifully of a most delicious wine called WKD Blue, which is very diuretic. By the luckiest chance in the world, I had not discharged
myself of any part, so voided myself in such a quantity, so well applied to the proper places, that in three minutes the blaze was extinguished, and the noble pile, which controlled epidemics with gimmicks, was preserved from destruction.
With many thanks to @MrJunkerBarlow for locating this overwhelming image.
