Mitch Bond

Mitch Bond's avatar

Last Login: 06/28/2009 11:03 am

Registered: 05/04/2009

Gender: Male

Location: Bradford, Pennsylvania

Birthday: 04/03/1989

Occupation: Full-time Cripple

Personal Website

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Santino Corleone Says

Hey, whataya gonna do, nice college boy, eh? Didn't want to get mixed up in the Family business, huh? Now you wanna gun down a police captain. Why? Because he slapped ya in the face a little bit? Hah? What do you think this is the Army, where you shoot 'em a mile away? You've gotta get up close like this and bada-bing you blow their brains all over your nice Ivy League suit.

Pithy Proverbs

What distinguishes the elite from the masses is their insistence on quality. This implies a responsibility, to all, for all...

Ama me fideliter! Fidem meam noto: De corde totaliter Et ex mente tota, Sum presentialiter Absens in remota. (Carmina Burana)

Although golf was originally restricted to wealthy, overweight Protestants, today it's open to anybody who owns hideous clothing.

How to earn money the W.A.S.P. way: Work, sweat, scheme, grovel, cheat, lie, and betray to acquire the filthy lucre that you will then hemorrhage out in guilt filled acts of philanthropy.

Bric-a-Brac

Favorite Movies/Anime

Favorite TV Shows

Favorite Reads

Favorite Music/Bands

Hobbies/Interests

Badges

  • Peelunger Pounder[120]
  • Lawn Gnome Clipper[122]
  • Pink Flamingo Fighter[125]
  • Garlic Picker[134]
  • Laceback Bootsnake Skinner[140]
  • OMG That Hurt[143]
  • Taiko Drum Banger[152]
  • Kokeshi Doll Trickster[158]
  • Goof Course[221]
  • Gnoman's Land[222]
  • Close the Barn Door![223]
  • Durem Blockade[224]
  • Two Docks One Lake[226]
  • I Can Almost Touch the Stars[229]
  • Hallowed Ground[246]
  • Ranch Hand[250]
  • Barton 3[251]
  • Ninja Trials[252]
 

About the Esteemed Fellow and Cigar Connoisseur

Dear Readers:—Mitch Bond, that is, I, am an impetuous, pertinacious, and persnickety bloke who has tuppence to toss in every direction. In fact, I'm quite opinionated when it comes right down to it. I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth and the gavel of judgment in my hand. I could rightly be described as a pompously pedantic, overbearingly ostentatious, frustratingly formalistic, sorrowfully sermonic, exaggeratedly eccentric, infectiously idiosyncratic, foolishly flaky, obviously off-centre, cantankerously crotchety ol' fool.

My late father—Adam Mitchell Bernard Bond V, Esquire, D. Phil., Oxon.—was the executor of a forty three billion unit trust, the president of the joint-stock venture Gem Merchants of Durem, and a jolly good fellow on the golf course. On 5 May 2009 he was viciously murdered along with his wife of fifty-two years, Elizabeth. The death of my parents, the knowledge that the trust had been mysteriously drained without record, and a threatening note warning me of a looming fate led me to flee to Barton.

I began my penniless exile that very day and have unfortunately found that my time and energy has been distracted against meeting out justice for my parent's death with the mindless ballyhoo which is, 'The Animated' crisis, or crises, as it were.

God bless & keep you,
Yr. Most Humble & Obt. Svt.

Adam Mitchell Bernard Bond VI, Esq.

Read all about that fateful day in may at Foul Plots & Animated Lawn Gnomes.

I am also the founder of The Fraternal Association of New England Patricians, a clan formed for gentlemanly comraderie.

The Official Thread is posted here.

A Plea for Donations & Information from Mr Bond's Solicitor

Dear Readers:—Following the Bonds' unfortunate decline in fortune both monetary and in general, I am begging for some assistance from those more fortunate in terms of livelihood and wealth.

Would you leave a fellow starved for fine scotch whisky?

Will you allow his gin bottle to run dry?

His cigars to dry out and lose their vigor?!

Shall he forever shuffle betwixt three suits of clothing, no formal evening wear to grace those occasions which warrant such finery?

Shall he never know the halls of his family's colonial mansion?

His private offices with their English oak and floor-to-ceiling book shelves?

The boat house?

The stables?

Shall he never drive his Morgan roadster, again?

God forbid he not plaster his morning toast without Fortnum Mason jam and honey, but I go on too long.

It is an outrage that someone once so privileged should be left to fend for himself, when he is so firmly rooted in his entitlement! Help this poor—formerly rich—fool, he should starve for want of bread, having no skills, but the skill of being a wealthy, snobbish prat.

It may also be asked of those who live in or around Durem, or are in regular commute betwixt the two cities (illicitly or with a pass) that any information gathered about the deaths of his beloved parents be referred to him through the post. (Cf. Disclaimer)

Cordially Yours,
Alfred Francis Britten, J.D.

Bond Manor, 19 April 2009

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My parents, myself, Miss Lloyd, Michi (who insisted on wearing black, sheesh), Johnny Gambino, Gino Gambino, Meredith from Gambino Bank, Ian, Rufus, and — quite distantly — Edmund at an informal garden party that my mother hosted for some of our friends and relations.

Drawing Room, Bond Manor, 6 August 2007

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On this occasion my mother held a small party within Bond Manor, this scene depicts some of us while we mingled in the drawing room. Depicted here are Miss Lloyd and myself, Miss Michi — singing an aria —  Mr and Mrs Wainwright, my mother and father, and our maid, Nathalie. N.B., I am, apparently, always conspicuously shrouded in a cloud of smoke.

My Daily Journal

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Flutterquill's Musings

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Visit my website, if you don't mind strangely religious sentiments from an Anglo-Papist perspective, with a swarthy dash of cynicism tossed in for good measure.

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Comments

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Deaths Last Sweet Kiss Report | 06/06/2009 7:43 am
oh nose! be safe! ttyl!
Deaths Last Sweet Kiss Report | 05/28/2009 5:16 am
-poke-

I have talked to you in a while! so... whats up?
Deaths Last Sweet Kiss Report | 05/14/2009 5:53 am
lol, its cool. I may be out for a good chuck of today... I'm not sure... depending, it could be close to five when I get back, or closer to two. its hard to tell.
also, if I'm on reflection, feel free to poke me... I will switch! lol. hope you have a good day!
Deaths Last Sweet Kiss Report | 05/13/2009 9:57 am
thats awesome! I hope you had fun!

I'll prolly be on at 3ish... hope to play with you then!
Lardfaceee Report | 05/07/2009 11:17 pm
LOL, a yellow retro phone i think :S
AHAHAHAHS
Lardfaceee Report | 05/07/2009 10:43 pm
Hey, thanks for the purchase! (:
Deaths Last Sweet Kiss Report | 05/06/2009 10:09 am
I <3 you're profile! it looks great!

you really have some awesome writing skills!
Deaths Last Sweet Kiss Report | 05/06/2009 5:35 am
neh, don't worry about it! I totally understand... sleep is VERY good for you! <3

I shall strive to read it! night!
Deaths Last Sweet Kiss Report | 05/05/2009 2:54 pm
sorry I ditched you... my mother needed my help, and I had to go right away... sorry...
Deaths Last Sweet Kiss Report | 05/05/2009 10:29 am
hi! I'm going to add you to my friends k?
 

The Face Behind the Avatar

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In real life I'm not the sixth Adam Mitchell Bernard Bond, but the name's the same. It's long winded and eerily elitist.

My Facebook Profile
About Me
About My Site
Crazy Story About My Disability
My Controversial Political Views
Miscellaneous Coolness!

CHAPTERS

Supplemental Material

The Fraternity

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For clubmanship in the tradition of grand old gentlemen's clubs, join the Fraternal Association of New England Patricians. We haven't built our clubhouse yet, but we do have a cigar bar, where a walk in humidor is available and a complete line-up of good labels at the bar. Pour a snifter of cognac, grab a Monte Cristo, and commence libation and intellectual discussion. The cigar bar has a state-of-the-art ventilation system, so those asthmatics or naysayers who are afraid of second-hand smoke are quite safe. For teetotalers, we have an espresso bar, with a wide range of coffee, though our barista is instructed (as is our bartender) to limit the number of drinks for each person. We neither want hyperactive monkeys nor sozzled, idiotic drunks.

Get together with other chaps or chapettes, as it may be, and gossip, debate, bicker anacephalically, talk politics, religion, sex, or any combination of those three, and enjoy yourself well and thoroughly.

Plan for F.A.N.E.P. Club House

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The Note

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My Sartorial Cunning

Desired Trappings

Disclaimer

By the way, you needn't actually feel any pity on the filthy sot, but I'm sure he wouldn't mind some of the items on his wishlist.

But seriously, give me some whiskey money.

...


I will not tell you again, worms.

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