I find myself most discomfited and vexed by the dubious actions of our Mrs. Eleanor Roosevelt, wife to the honorable Franklin Delano Roosevelt. Mrs. Roosevelt has always been an upstanding young lass with only the finest and most judicious of reputations, but as of late, I find her actions with regard to her marriage to be highly suspect;
the chatter amongst the rabble is disproportionately aligned with the idea that Mrs. Roosevelt and Mr. Roosevelt actually possess separate living spaces, and that this arrangement comes at the behest of Mrs. Roosevelt. A married couple living in separate homes is scandalous and suspicious, but this particular brand of chinkydinkery is merely one of a series of highly irregular and inexplicable mysteries surrounding the First Couple. At Franklin’s inauguration, Eleanor was spotted wearing a sapphire ring rumored to have been presented to her as a gift by one miss Lorena Hickok, a journalist at the Milwaukee Sentinel, who has been described by Time magazine as “a rotund lady with a husky voice” and is widely rumored to have spent an unusual amount of time with Mrs. Roosevelt. These two harlots traipsing merrily about as Mrs. Roosevelt lives outside of the presence of her husband and master leads me to believe that something is amiss; someone has urinated, as the old Creole proverb goes, into my Blood Pudding, and I believe that someone is this offputtingly mannish Hickok woman. What business such a betrayingly masculine creature has with a woman of letters and distinguishment such as the First Lady escapes me, but one thing is certain: I do not trust it. Indeed, there is only one reasonable explanation for the mountainous barrage of suspicious activity coming from the First Lady and her ineffeminate compatriate: Conspiracy and Espionage on behalf of the Vile Ottomans!