This is Auntie Carol and I am much concerned about two things. One, I thought my prince would come by now to sweep me off my feet. However, not with a broom. And secondly, is our society decaying in the moral sense. I say yes, to number two. I worry about Lady Lynda, in the particular, and young ladies, in general. Lady Lynda now worships that disastrous excuse for a human being, Seymour Toze, who plants his hand on her innocent derriere as they stroll down the boulevard. When she looks at him she has a lascivious, lustful look in her eyes like the late Marilyn Monroe. It is unseemly, and impure. Will she fall victim to that lewd Lothario? Will he drag her into the fiery bowels of Hell?
Then there's the overall decline in the moral fiber of today's young ladies and their gentlemen callers. Wearing those halter tops and tight, low cut blue jeans with open toed heels leaves nothing to the imagination. They look, dare I say it, like sluts. And what man wants a sex fiend and depraved whore to be the mother to his children? A lady must be proper at all times yet fetching and not give her favors cheeply. A lady must wear attire which suggests the splendor of her person without showing it ourtight, like a slab of raw meat on the butcher's block. I must save Lady Lynda from falling into the bowels of Hell!
You see, a man is basically a hunter. What fun would it be to shoot a captive deer in a cage? He wants to hunt in the wild for he can never be sure of the outcome. That peaks his interest and that, my dears, is the mystique of a woman. Otherwise, we all shall go to Hell in a hand basket!
Alors! and Heavens, No! Sacre Bleu!