What is your favorite April Fool’s prank, that you’ve done? Put it in comments, no matter how long the story!
My favorite thing was giving out prank phone messages at work. You remember those little pink phone message notes? I used to make up names (I used some venerable phone prank names, as well.) It was fun!
Now, you.
“‘My faculties have been exhausted by perpetual toil’ goes hard.”
By Evan Porter
A British teacher is showing how to speak in Victorian English, and people are loving it. – Photo credit: Abram Elenin/Facebook
It’s hard to believe now, but communicating via the written word used to be a gigantic deal. Long before texting, social media, quick emails, or even short postcards, one of the only ways people could communicate across space and time was by writing long letters.
The 18th century is considered by some to be the peak of the Golden Age of letter writing. It was a key element of education for people wealthy enough to receive one, and it was incredibly important: business was conducted via handwritten letters, love was declared, and new introductions were made.
It was crucial, then, to choose your words extremely carefully. This was especially true in and around the Victorian Era in England, roughly between 1820 and 1914.
An English teacher from the United Kingdom has been delighting followers with Victorian-era translations of everyday sayings.
Abram Elenin runs Berber English, where he says, “I help professionals master British English… and communicate more effectively.”
He also likes to have a little fun with his work as a linguistics expert and accent coach. In a wildly popular series of Instagram Reels, he performs “tiered” translations of common phrases, transforming them into increasingly formal variations. Victorian English is usually the final resting point and comedic punchline.
In one popular video, “I’m burnt out” becomes “I’m entirely depleted” in formal English, and “I have been worked to the very marrow” in gentlemanly English.
But Victorian English, the age of beautiful if long-winded novels like Great Expectations and Jane Eyre, takes the cake: “Where to begin, for my faculties have been exhausted by perpetual toil, and incessant application has so stripped me of vitality that I am scarcely able to summon the strength requisite for the smallest effort.”
(The Instagram post, below. You don’t have to log in to see/hear.)
In another Reel, “I’m poor” becomes “I find myself in a precarious financial position,” and finally:
“It is with no small measure of affliction that I acknowledge my fortunes to be sadly diminished, my purse exhausted, and my station reduced to one of grievous penury, such that I find myself abandoned to the stern tutelage of want, the harshest master to which mankind is ever subject.”
It just sounds so much better that way. Can’t you just hear Moira Rose from Schitt’s Creek saying that? (snip-a little MORE, with another little video)
Ann Telnaes Mar 30, 2026
Trump’s war cheerleader chows down breakfast at Chef Mickey’s.
Mason Whiteside of Carrollton poses for a photo in front of the Oak Lawn United Methodist Church, Tuesday, March 24, 2026, in Dallas. Chitose Suzuki / Staff Photographer
It was already dark when Mason Whiteside finished his workday at a Deep Ellum brewery. By the time he was done cleaning and closing up, it was nearing midnight, but there was another job to do.
Whiteside, 25, called a Waymo to take him to Oak Lawn, where he’d lugged a backpack full of chalk and spray paint: red, orange, yellow, green, blue and purple.
“Does anyone want to color with me?” Whiteside asked as people walked by.
No one stopped. He didn’t need them to.
Over the course of three and a half hours, Whiteside alone repainted more than a dozen crosswalks, what he considered a vibrant act of defiance less than 24 hours after the city began stripping the roads of their color. Dallas is among several Texas cities complying with a state directive to remove “political ideologies” from public roadways.
“I wasn’t hurting anybody,” Whiteside, who is queer, told The Dallas Morning News Tuesday. “I didn’t damage anything. I literally just put back the same things that had been there.” (snip-a bit MORE; click the title)
Off the coast of Sierra Leone, the actor and model are fighting against tourists traps with their own vision: a tropical “eco-city” of the future.
Sherbro Island, a tropical outpost of farmers and fishermen nestled in the crook of Sierra Leone’s arcing Atlantic coastline, is about the size of Chicago, but its population of 40,000 wouldn’t even fill Wrigley Field. Electrical power and wireless internet are scarce. Fishermen can’t refrigerate their catches long enough to sell them on the mainland, and farmers often lack the expertise and equipment to harvest much more than they need to survive. But Sherbro Island has some enviable resources, including miles of unblemished beaches and lagoons, as well as an abundance of replenishable fresh water.
One other invaluable asset: the support of Golden Globe–winning British actor Idris Elba and his wife, Canadian model Sabrina Elba. The couple see an opportunity there to marry ecological sustainability with economic growth in a way they hope can be a template for development projects across Africa—and perhaps help rewrite a whole continent’s narrative. Idris’s father is from Sierra Leone, Sabrina’s mother is from Somalia, and growing up, Sabrina says, “there were particular stigmas attached with being African.” She remembers seeing ads that seemed to show abject people waiting for a handout. “We wanted to see Africa represented the way that we knew it to be,” she says. “We wanted to change the storytelling.”
Her husband—known for the baritone potency he brings to prestige TV dramas like Luther and The Wire, along with films like last year’s critically acclaimed thriller A House of Dynamite—first heard about Sherbro Island years ago. A close family friend had tried to convince him it could become a world-class holiday destination. “At that juncture, I was just like, Oh, OK, that sounds interesting,” says Idris, 53, who co-owns a wine bar in London’s King’s Cross neighborhood. “Like, maybe I’ll build a nightclub, maybe build some tourism.” He made a mental note to visit someday.
He got the opportunity in 2019, while he and Sabrina, now 37, were in Sierra Leone touring small family farms as part of their ambassadorial roles with the International Fund for Agricultural Development (IFAD). It was during that trip, Idris says, that he had something of an epiphany. He’d been venturing into philanthropy as his celebrity grew: supporting childhood education and hunger-relief programs in Africa, as well as campaigning on behalf of at-risk youths in the United Kingdom (work for which he was recently knighted). But on that trip, the Elbas saw an opportunity to build something more enduring and meaningful than a fancy vacation spot—and “to reframe the conversation,” Sabrina says, “[from] one of aid to one of investment.” (snip-a little more on the page; click through on the title, please)
(Clay Jones writes commentary with his comics; click through on the title to read this one)
(My ophthalmologist referred me to this site one time, because I always have a dog. It’s a hoot most of the time on its own, but recalling that an ophthalmologist subscribes makes it kinda funnier!)
Gah-this one won’t embed, and it’s hilarious!! It’s about POTUS’s failed businesses. Do click; it’s great!
https://youtube.com/shorts/Kcol2OLmmko?si=jbo2a_Rarb8s-rsO
(Clay Jones publishes with his toons; his writing is always spot on. Click the title above to go to the page.)
Dear friend,
This week I’ve been struggling a little with the fact that I can’t do all of the things that I want to. My book comes out next week (you’re in it!) and I feel so excited and lucky but also terrified and filled with dread. I worry people won’t like it…that no one will show up to the book tour…that I’m failing my publisher because I can’t do some of the things that most authors would jump at because I just don’t have the energy or mental strength to say yes to everything without making myself sick. I even felt a little bad about drawing this week when I probably should be doing author stuff.
But then I reminded myself that I need this quiet drawing time (is it considered “quiet” when I’m doing it while binging Dexter? I say yes.) to keep myself sane and to replenish my energy and to remind myself that I am more than just my work, and that it’s okay to not work yourself to exhaustion even if it’s for something you love.
I suspect we all struggle with this. Perhaps as parents or partners or in our career…the urge to try to be more than our bodies and minds allow, but not being able to because you are…human. It’s so easy to put ourselves last when it’s for something else that you care about.
“There is a fine line between beautiful and suffocating. Don’t forget to leave room for yourself.”
So this is a reminder from me to you to make time for yourself if you can. To rest. To create. To refill your cup. There is so much beauty in what we do for others, for our work and for our passions…but there is also a necessary beauty in what we do for ourselves…a beauty we often forget.
Sending love (and quiet moments of calm repose even when watching serial killer shows)
~me
This morning I was in New York filming the Today Show where I managed to talk about explosive diarrhea, fears of my foot falling off, apologized for using my hands too much, sat on them, promptly pulled my hands back out bc I can’t talk without them and then made all the anchors put pencils in their mouths…all within about 4 minutes. By this afternoon I was in Amish country in Pennsylvania where I met some very nice “fancy Amish” people (this is a real thing) and did not pet a horse even though I really wanted to. Tomorrow afternoon I’ll be in Lancaster for my first tour stop and signing even though technically my book doesn’t officially come out until Tuesday. Then it’s back to NYC, and then a stop in New Hampshire for another reading and signing and then I get to go home for a week to rest for the next round. I’m feeling tired, happy, lucky, scared, excited, embarrassed…all of the things. Oh, and did I mention my first book got banned from a Texas high school after a senate bill deemed it obscene and profane? It’s been a busy week. I would link to everything but I can’t figure out how to do this with my phone
I should have written all this before I left but i was overwhelmed with packing all the wrong things and so instead I’m writing this tonight, on the eve of my first new book event in over half a decade, to distract myself from the fear and from the incredibly loud but very happy drunken wedding taking place two rooms down from mine. It feels like you’re here, in a weird way. I know that’s strange, but it’s comforting.
I’ve drawn in planes and cars and green rooms to keep my hands and mind busy but it’s a jerky mess so instead I’m sharing a drawing from my new book, because it seems fitting while I’m traveling so much in spite of the fact that I never know where I am. It’s an adventure, after all, if I look at it with the right kind of eyes.
I super crazy love you,
Jenny
(Clay Jones writes blog entries for his toons; click through on the title above.)
From my G+ friend Brian Arbenz:
Here’s how I repurposed my empty tissue box as a plastic grocery bag dispenser in a few easy steps:
https://www.peacebuttons.info/
(and stay safe!)
I understand about the pastry boxes; they are pretty stupid. Lewis Black expresses someone’s feelings as Lewis Black does.
Have a fun dog video!
Oh, yeah! Another email buried but that I wanted to post here last week. My accomplished niece is a writer, and this is her webpage for her fiction books, Swaimwrites.com . She’s got one about to be released called “Reven,” which is, as her site says, “A steampunk retelling of Peter Pan about the lengths we’ll go to escape the past.” I’m excited to read it, not only because I’m her auntie, but because it looks like it’ll be perfect for these times!📖📚
Scottie's Playtime 