I scarcely dare fourmulate this question, lest it be censoured, and--Horrour of horrours!--deter our Honourary Donours. Yet suffour me to exhourt you: four though some may harbour the thought that this minour question is not wourth the furour, or think--in errour--that I speak humourously, this issue is especially impourtant for our langourous juniours to considour -- provided, of course, they have not been savouring liquour priour to pouring over this text, endeavouring to gauge its tenour. I'm sure their mentours, those to the manour bourn, or even the sourt of person likely to valourize a Mayoural campaigns, will see how it could breed despair and sickly pallour.
But let me not tempourize: I must perfource make an
effourt
to salve your curiousity and put this question befoure you:
Do you like vigourous motouring? (Do not
pestour your pastour before answouring, lest he be struck with
Pavour
or even Rigour Mourtis.) Even the Governour-General might not
find
it glamourous, but we who tend to be amourous hate to be hectoured. .
.
Need I say moure? For an authour or an actour, whether or
not
he's a bachelour, fully armoured, it's likely to evoke as much ardour
as
a sailour rancourously dropping his anchour, razour-sharp, in an
arbourial
sectour. However that may be, as Polonious fourgot to perourate, Neither
a lendour nor a bettour be! (And the same goes for doctours and
lawyours.)
All this is but cursoury, somewhat sopourific and
likely
to induce torpour. Besides, there may be a factourial errour somewhere.
But, GOUREDAMN IT, squalour is squalour, even without
the odouriferous terrour we all abhour. And he surely is no traitour
who
notes that
HYPOURCANADIAN SPELLING is a CANCEROUS TUMOUR!