Dear Sirrah,
Still no appetite for thy heinous concoction doth my tongue construe to desire.
Neither hither nor yon would’st such tinted and perhaps tainted fare present itself less foully to my palate.
I dislike the notion of consuming such victuals even within mine own dwelling, whereas being attended by a rodent during the course of such a repast seems ill-bethought.
Likewise did the fox seem poorly put upon when I did but seek to inquire if he would care to join me in a supper of such surpassingly unusual colour. And as for my retiring to the confinement of a box of suitable size to permit, whilst I did find the quietude fortuitous to composing verse, methinks it did but little to render my dislike of the plate placed before me into a true liking.
Forsooth, I am far beyond the age where dining on a tree branch seems practicable.
I knoweth not of this ‘train’ of which thou spake, but I doth contend that verily, no such conveyance of the future would do more to commend such a dastardly meal to mine stomach than any of thine other recommendations, and as for supping in inclement weather, would’st thou indeed have me catch my death of consumption in such a manner?
Nor would’st consuming them upon the oaken deck of yon sturdy boat enhance the virtues of said ghastly repast. And whilst questioning thy advice to devour them in the presence of a barnyard animal, their taste would be to me no more appealing were said goat well nigh at hand.
In short, my good Sir Samuel, I still but belikest me little of thy offering of eggs and ham the colour of foliage. Nor does the prospect of swallowing any foodstuffs that do take on such hues as might be seen amongst the hills and vales of Ireland suite my fancy. Green, I bethink me, ’tis a far more becoming colour than it is a flavour.
Therefore I sadly restate my refusal to partake of thee thy kindly rendered invitation to sup with thee on this particular dish.
Though I take thee at thy word that the verdant overtones of this repast is due not to rot nor rancidness, still do I pray of thee, tempt me not further upon this course. I liketh me not this breaking of my fast with eggs and ham whose visage is thus despoiled.
your obedient servant, W. Shakespeare.
year of our Lord, 1602
Pouring My Art Out 
Having just read and pondered thy words of late, Lord Arthur, I am exceedingly grateful for thine warning against aforementioned green consumables should I wish to forego the ever so dastardly fate of death by consumption… I also do believeth that thou hath channeled Mr. William Shakespeare himself – and that thou most certainly and most grievously doth presently resideth in the wrongeth era of time. A factual observation of which I most humbly extend my sincerest condolences. Ha
We should all start speaking like that again.
You already do!
right
Wood eye per chance to stumble upon thine cave, this day of our Lord, whatever… Me doth think a treasure of the as a like fellow in comedic fashion! Wilt thou joinst me in slapstick commune?
Yea verily and forsooth will I perchance to venture forth hither and yon at thine beckoning…
Come hither then, and feast thine eye lids upon the refuse of Mandkind! Kind man? No matter! Enter! Eat fruit! Break wind! No smaking!
Slaking yes, smaking no.
LOL! That was a type O… I meant to say: ‘No smoking’ :O)
type o blood? that is very rare and valuable
LOL!
yup
Gee, I wish I’d have said that.
me too
I shared it on FB and already another friend shared it.
awww… and yay
Ha ha “and I did laugh sans intermission an hour by his dial”
dial soap
bleah!
I gave it a shot
indeed you did.
they can’t all be winners
If it makes me laugh then it’s a winner.
that is how I judge all my work
Reblogged this on galesmind and commented:
Forsooth he says the truth. Sam I am.
word
Seems you’ve been reading too much Shakespeare lately… I wonder who’s fault is that. 😉
Don’t worry April is almost over.
We should all start speaking like that again