Dear Boy,
I have become increasingly concerned for your welfare - those megalithic sites abound with esurient, sibylline entities and your silence is most unlike your usual dicacity and more akin to Sotty Wilkins, poor aglossal chap. Continuing, as you are, to be incommunicado for a surely morological duration, I have been considering alerting Les Soeurs Dépaysées, for only those canny ladies might contact you where others cannot go.
I am investing more then the usual fare to the Thrombatist so this message may travel by ultra-retrometer in all good haste.
I remain in a kedogenous attitude, until your response,
Wilbur
