Deggulp

Take a gander at uberwensch.com, the web attic of a colleague whose naturally flowing prose, political astuteness and emotional lexicon shame my staccato bursts of the humdrum. What's more, she may actually have something to say.

It's a dusty term "wench" and not oft uttered - unironically - away from the "D&D" table, where it tends to hang out in seedy taverns by the docks. Whenever I do come across it, though, I'm reminded of the first time I set foot in the union building at uni. Examining a noticeboard, my innocent eye was drawn to a scrap of paper bearing a handwritten plea: "Come back, wench! All is forgiven." "WTF?" I asked myself, or would have if only that acronym had existed in the Third Year Of The Pheasant during the reign of King Galfrax.