David Thayer

Gastropod Alley: Indie filmmakers are in towne this week to evaluate Wellington Leg as Hollywood North according to sources close to the registration desk at the Hotel Faz. The arrival of the film people was heralded by several hundred professional mourners pressed into service as a cheerleading squad. “There was a lot of weeping at first,” reported VP of Development Wilfredo Tagesblatt. “Then they managed a Laker Girl Pyramid.”

The film is believed to be an adaptation of Cicero’s epic D’Amicitia set in modern times with the Spanish Civil War as back story. Parts of Wellington Leg will be painted to resemble the forum at ancient Rome while the backdrop hills will be canvassed to resemble ” a big bumpy down comforter.” Cicero will be played by eleven different actors some of them women as his days of struggle are rendered in a blistering drag racing scene.

It’s Okay to Think About Parking Here: to welcome the honored guests Wellington Leg’s draconian parking regulations will be suspended for the duration. Portions of the Historic Rotunda are open for special tours and the Roman camp at Carthago Nova will supply extras as needed. Wellington Catering is preparing a lavish radish themed lunch to celebrate the towne’s Bona Fortuna.

Hizzoner to preside: A freshly painted portrait of Hizzoner Refusing a Bribe will grace the marble foyer of Big Business Hall; a ribbon cutting ceremony will be followed by a ribbon repair ceremony outdoors, weather permitting. Legians are encouraged to duck work for the afternoon unless they are considered essential personnel. Flood control engineers at Great Wellington Bog will open all the taps promptly at five o’clock: a word to the wise.

Report filed by the Wellingtonienne.

From the files of the Wellingtonienne: I’m excited to be back after my hiatus. Blogging on Sunday when the newsroom is empty is the coolest. My roman a clef SHE SOLD HER SOUL is writing itself thanks to my horrible boss Concetta ( that’s not her real name. wink, wink.) Anyhoo, it turns out that C can’t find five million emails she wanted to use in her divorce proceedings…Mr. C is still in Cleveland because of the snow…double yuck.

I’m pretty sure I’ll hired by Gawker and then have a three book deal in time for Cinquo de Mayo. Yay! After like three weeks of trying I almost gave up being a writer! Stick with it you guys!

Well, I have to finish an article about the Satire Moratorium which between you and me is long overdue. Wait, I mean the moratorium, not the article. Aren’t these dangling modifiers just the bee’s knees? I think they are. Ciao.

PS: Wow, I just found two million emails in the refrigerator right here in the employee lounge. Thank goodness for Tupperware! TW.

Wellington Leg: From the files of the Wellingtonienne: Hi, it’s me, and wow we have a lot of ground to cover before deadline. I’m new to Wellington Leg and bought one of those condos at HRH J Mansfield Prison. I’m not sure the conversion is really finished cuz of all the barbed wire and stuff. Plus we all have to eat together in a big room that’s totally drafty and the food sucks. Anyhoo…

I’m profiling DCI Borchardt for WELLINGTON LEG CONFIDENTIAL the TV show. I asked to do a ride along, and he said yes! His police car is an AMC Pacer with a cop suspension; we put my name in the computer and accidentally sent the Flying Squad over to my place. Oops!

Then we went to the location shooting of THE EARL’S BEHEADING and talked to Wilfredo Tagesblatt, VP of Development. They dropped the guillotine on a bowling ball that was supposed to roll into a wicker basket the varsity football team made themselves ( so cool) but the bowling ball broke the basket and rolled down hill where it knocked over a cosmonaut. His name is Boris and I’m like, dude, you read Cosmo?

Uh oh, here comes Mr. Castinstone. I’m not supposed to blog at the office except on Sunday when the office is closed or late at night when those guys buff the floor. I might have to go to Belarus on an assignment. Wish me luck, WTN.

Wellington Leg: Mere days after announcing the arrival of the Wellingtonienne, we’re proud to say that the Agony Column is back by popular demand. The Druidical & Literary reminds everyone of our slogan, We Dish, They Wish. Much as we desired to provide serious news for serious readers ( our former slogan) the D&L and this blog will now feature “first person” and amped up prose more fitting to our new tabloid sensibility.  Gutsy, gritty, even greasy and grimy, lurid, florid, triffid, not very succinct but certainly hip, sexy, and now. We’re dropping golf coverage altogether. Irish lace competition? Not in this rag.

Regular readers remember the Agony Column when the earl answered letters from readers offering sound advice in an unsound manner. Quite frankly, and in all candor, some of those letters were written by paid staff and bitter interns. Much of the advice was directed at writers seeking information about publishing, agents, real time tips flowing from the oracle of Wellington Leg, the Earl of Watership Down. However since his literary debut VOLTAIRE’S MIASMA, mocked by Le Soir as “Unreadable!” the unfortunate affair of the corpseless head of a German tourist spiked on his gatepost, the earl feels that following his advice may be hazardous. With the Volvo in the shop and so many Commitments, along with his impending beheading at the Tower, he is passing the torch to the Wellingtonienne to guide you through the Labyrynth modern publishing has become.

From the Wellingtonienne: Word in the newsroom is I may be one of Victor Hugo’s descendants, to which I say, that’s totally cool. That guy could write a musical.

Special to the Druidical & Literary: Our correspondent, the Wellingtonienne, filed this report from embattled Los Angeles: A crackdown on texting has demoralized Roman soldiers stationed around Los Angeles. The commander of the Vicesima Claudia Legion has ordered an end to texting as his men prepare to leave Winter Quarters for Spring Training. Our own Wellingtonienne is on the scene.

“I’m all over this story,” she says. “I’m standing near the entrance to the Campus Martialis ( formerly Burbank) where the First Cohort of the Vecisima Claudia is going through stretching exercises, a little yoga, and aromatherapy in preparation for the campaign season. The legion commander announced a texting ban to take immediate effect not only for the First Cohort, but the others as well.”

How are the Romans adapting?

“Other than “Earltube” the troops have no access to modern technology. We gave them cell phones but one of the guys dropped his and then they all dropped theirs and pretty soon they were stomping on them probably in reaction to the opening bars of MY SHARONA programmed as the ring tone by either Boris or Natasha.”

How do they text?

“They have these sharp sticks and wax tablets and it takes like forever to write a message. I did one and by the time I finished I forgot what was going to say.”

Is Burbank chafing under Roman rule?

“Totally. I was ordering a soy latte when Jay Leno drove by and I’m like Oh My God and the Roman guy guarding the place carved the cash register in half thinking the barbarians were atacking or whatever. He almost killed a talent agent sitting by the window.”

Are you safe?

“Oh yeah, they know I’m like a citizen journalist and I have to wear this tennis headband that says SPQR which I guess is a Roman television station or something. The other today they played catch with the yoga teacher and I’m like Oh My God, dudes, that’s a monk you’re tossing back and forth!”

What are you immediate plans?

“Well, the Romans are kind of pissed about the LA Coliseum. I think we’re going over to Westwood and seize UCLA.”

Will that affect PAC 10 play?

“Wow, good question. I’ll see if I can get them to spare the gym.”

How do we know you’re the real Wellingtonienne and not a Roman spy? What’s the capitol of Ohio?

WKRP.

Geraldo here: be safe, okay?