Serving Fitzrovia since 1066
Sir, I am writing to express my outrage at the so-called Moustache Tax levied upon me during my brief and involuntary passage through Fitzrovia last Thursday. As a proud resident of Bloomsbury, I had no intention of stopping in your peculiar little borough, but alas, my usual route was blocked by a rogue troupe of…
To the Editor, I am writing to express my extreme dissatisfaction with your appallingly narrow-minded review of my film, Death in Fitzrovia. Your so-called “critic” (a term I use with reluctance) has entirely missed the point of my artistic vision, choosing instead to mock what is clearly a bold, groundbreaking exploration of revenge, mortality, and sponge-based trauma….
Our esteemed editor has taken time out of his busy day to reply to two worried readers. To the esteemed Mr. and Mrs. Handsome, Ah, but fear not, discerning duo! Your calendar may not whisper of National Cornichon Day, but fret not, for its existence is as crisp and undeniable as the bite of a…
Dearest Editor, My wife Jemima and I, two humble pickle pilgrims on the winding path of culinary calendar curiosity, write to you with a furrowed brow and a briny bewilderment. Our eyes, honed to the precision of sundials and attuned to the rhythms of annual feasts, scanned your recent article with a relish only reserved for the crispiest of gherkins. And…
To the Editor, With shaking hands and a rumbling stomach that still echoes the tremors of Bertie Blenkinsop’s “Bruiser,” I write to you today as a cautionary tale, a living, (barely) breathing testament to the culinary monstrosity that masquerades as a cocktail at “The Tipsy Toucan.” Oh, the hype! The allure of the forbidden, the Fitzrovia fizz that defied convention! Little…
To the Editor, Have you ever looked a jellyfish square in the face and thought, “Nah, this review stings way worse”? Let me tell you,dear editor, that’s exactly how I felt after reading your piece on “Swimming Around Britain,” my very own aquatic epic (or “incoherent animation,” as you so eloquently put it). I won’t deny, my journey wasn’t your…
To the Editor, I write to you today with a profound sense of disquiet, my quill dipped in both ink and indignation. The recent article detailing Professor Alistair “Tweety” Tweeble’s supposed avian translator has ruffled more than just feathers; it has ruffled my very soul. For you see, dear Editor, the technology Professor Tweeble so gleefully parades as his…
I recently came across the review suggesting that I’m not the next Michelangelo, and I must say, I wholeheartedly agree. I’ve been selling myself short! In reality, I am the next Leonardo da Vinci, with a sprinkle of Raphael tossed in for good measure. It’s a rather splendid concoction, don’t you think? Michelangelo, bless his…