Snoozing and Boozing...

Spent most of today lying low.Acoording to Walter, my Man, the rowdy dandy in the boozer last night was the Earl of Winchester's nephew. I do so detest these Minor Royals. If they're not lounging in the Debter's Jail, which I might add is like a lock-in at the Hellfire Club. They're trying to act as proletarian a possible in order to pick up birds.

Walters face is clearing up. I suppose you only get a short time with these girls and its nice to have somthing to remember them by, in this case it looks like Herpes.

Barrington popped round at around lunchtime completely arseholed. Whilst raiding my meatsafe and helping himself to a bottle of French wine I had foolishly left unhidden, he told me of this fantastic little place by the docks he had patronised last night. Apparantly in exchange for the right words to the doorman and a couple of Guineas in the proprieters sweaty palm one can sample the mysteries of the Orient first hand. This comment was accompanied with much winking and eyebrow waggling. I presume Barrington was trying to say he has visited a top notch brothel, with foreign birds and and exotic drugs. I may accompany him down tonight although I feel I may emerge in a week with no money, a massive hangover and an interesting gait. We shall see...

Poetry in Commotion...

Got into a spot of bother at the Alehouse last night. Some arse claiming to be a poet of some description, claimed I has spilt his flaggon. I plainly saw the man finish his drink, wipe his mouth and then stride over to confront me In the most vulger of tones.

Hav'ing consumed the best part of four bottles of port i was in no mind to be poncing about with a foil outside in the cold. I waited for him to go to relieve himself in the privy and then gave the bookish rogue a thorough drubbing with the business end of my swagger stick. I had the Landlord chuck the cheeky whelp into the street and his name put firmly on the 'Innewatch Lyste, Bann'd From One Bann'd From Alle'.

My Manservent is looking less like a leper today having been bled. I only hope he will not frequent houses of quite such ill repute in the future.

A Rude Awakening...

I woke this morning to be confronted with a sight of the most worrying nature.

My Manservant was completely cover'd in unsightly boils. It appears as if my Man has been wandering the locality in the dead of night in search of strumpet. If this is how he chooses to spend his wages then this is entirely up to him. Obviously my yearly yule gift to him of a subscription to 'Brazen Wenches' Journal is not enough and he seeks pleasures of a more substantial nature.

I Have given the wretch the afternoon off to be bled by the barber. I'm damn'd if i'm to be put off my breakfast egg by his foul countenance dripping all over the place. So it seems this evening i shall be taking my chances with the cook at my local Alehouse, the Seven Stars...