Keats

Me:  "Mes tres chers amis de mon coeur, or words to that effect, I have this message for The Tutor, 'You are nowt but an aged scapegrace'."

The Tutor:  "Scapegrace?  Well, let me just say this little Missy: I am sophisticated, soigné, sumptuously attired; rigorously cosmopolitan, regularly un peu distrait, relentlessly loaded, and I am above all things brutally heterosexual.  For instance when a lady calls for my ministrations, regardless of the cause, I rush to her loins.  A broken heart, a bouncing cheque or a circulatory system rife with Butyrophenone can all be eased by my warm and coddling embrace and a working knowledge of oral anti-psychotics.  What price the frightfully jolly old ‘season of mists and mellow fruitfulness’, eh, VD?
‘Tis the time now for new posts.  Innit?  I would oft-times settle down with a steaming pot of Darjeeling and 120 milligrams of Pyridostigmine Bromide(1), the better to enjoy the reports of your rustic, rural rambles.  Any chance of re-running at least your greatest works, with a dedication to our dear friend Griselda - The Fucking Scorpio?  It will remind us of happier times, before Blogger fell to the juggernaut of Facebook and bang went the neighbourhood."

A copse of Elder leaves about your Fascinator to keep the flies at bay.

(1)   Pyridostigmine to off-label treat POTS