Today I will be mostly taking potshots.

Just spent four hours on the end of Lord B’s bed, watching him sleep after ( Read more... )

It's so sunny. I'm too hot. The birds are all singing and giving me a headache. Must remember rifle for weekend. Everybody so bloody cheerful. Bastards.

HATE.

Fell asleep after bath. Hair not in curlers. Now frizzy mess. Distinctly horrid. Look like Percy. He hasn't put comb through his hair in six months - suits him. Not so much me.

Sorry, briefly usurping the poet monopoly to announce that the lovely vampiredreams has set deadpoetdiaries up with our very own CafePress Shop! We shall be adding more products soon. You know you all want consumption-spotted hankies and Isn't she/he/it Byronic babywear for your future children! And it will help to pay Byron's rent, too. Poor chap doesn't want to sell ( Read more... )

I had a dream last night ( Read more... )

New bonnet fugly. Might pawn it for some decent wine - far more beneficial.

p.s. horny.

Meredith poured heart out at dinner table tonight reading ‘Modern Love’. He
is such a girl. Everyone prefers Bowie’s version.

Swinburne seemingly fixated with sodomy. Note to self: lock door.
Note to self II: Keep him around. Is shorter than self.

On an unrelated note, how awesome are blue smarties? I can stay high on
those E-numbers for weeks! ( Read more... )

Ironed for twelve hours today, how liberating. A few people died. Writing my journal at 8.23 in the evening.

There's an old Australian cockney, lying, dying,
and he gets himself up on one elbow,
and he turns to his mates,
who are gathered 'round him and he says:

*cough* shitWatch me nightingales sing mate ( Read more... )