My name is Lord William Daft. I come from a long line of philanderers which can be traced back to the Norman Conquest.
My forbears and I have loyally simpered at the feet of all the good Kings and Queens of England and for our trouble we have been rightfully ennobled.
I spend my time looking after a rather large country estate where I like nothing better than increasing the rents for my tenant farmers and patronising common folk.
I am an active member of the House of Lords although I can barely remember any of the debates as they are rather inconveniently timed to take place after a satisfyingly long liquid luncheon at The Club.
In short, without the nobility of the English aristocracy, this world would be a savage place.
Singing For Their Supper 4 days ago
On occasion I have been known to cast a friendly glance at our brethren who choose the simple life of a traveller.
Well, the other day these chaps, Ginger, Ed and Will trespassed onto my vast country estate singing ditties in the traditional English folk style. It is my wo...
The School Hymn, Land of Hope and Glory, Rule Britannia, God Save the King and anything by that thouroughly good chap Elgar.
Steak and Kidney Pudding, Roast Beef, Roast Lamb, Lancashire Hot Pot, Toad in the Hole, Pork Pie, Medium Rare Steak.
Treacle Sponge, Spotted Dick, Bakewell Pudding, Sticky Toffee Pudding, Bread and Butter Pudding, Trifle, Apple and Blackberry Crumble, Cherry Pie. All served with lashings of custard.
Going to The Club, puttting my tenants rents up, being Tory and preventing those dastardly Whigs from giving the vote to the bourgeoisie.
Sir Thumper Dung, Lord Piles Collarbone, Major Nicholas Steward, Austin, Dastardly Willy.